You know, one of the toughest things about my profession is being a mother at the same time. Sometimes combining the two seems almost impossible to do, and most days, frustration hangs above my head like a stubborn migraine. That alone, I won't conceal.
If you ask me what sort of things I have to deal with, I think I can tell you a million and one stories that have made me kicked and screamed inside. Tears are very often involved, and there were even times when I found myself in a downward spiral. Exhaustion is always the biggest issue. And you know how badly things can go when you are sleep deprived. Add in the all the bickering, the shouting and a ton of house chores to do, then you end up with a sour and cranky mommy artist. Think of my poor, poor husband. :)
This particular drawing, for example, has a story of its own. Like many of my stories, it started with a lovely day and I was all excited to start working on a new idea that popped into my head the night before. As I worked happily, music blasting away, ignorant of my surroundings, I got up and turned away from the table for a couple of minutes. And when I turned back, my two year old son was already on my chair, a sharp pencil in his hand and a huge smile on his face. He had left scratches here and there on my drawing and I remember feeling the blood drained away from my body as I saw it. Two hours work, ruined. Just like that. I wanted to tear my hair out and on the verge of throwing away the drawing. I had big plans and by then I couldn't even look at it. So I took a deep breath, let it out and walked out of the studio.
Half an hour later, I came back, ready to face the catastrophe. I grabbed my "tools" and started Operation Detour. It was time for a change of plan. I spent the next couple of hours drawing, shading, smudging and scratching like never before. Everything I imagined about this drawing was gone and I was surprised to see how it was shaping into. Something new, something very different.
In the end, I must say, I found great satisfaction and utter peace as I looked at my drawing. I pushed myself far enough to do something out of my comfort zone and I owe it all to my little boy. I suppose circumstances took control that day and I'm glad I didn't completely lost my head and threw away the drawing. It's something I'm still training myself to do, with three growing children, I'm sure it's going to be a long process.
So the moral of the story? Always remember to keep check with your surroundings when working, never underestimate a curious two year old with super fast hands, and above all, stay calm in every studio-child related disaster. Remember all that, and I think we'll survive. :)
PS: No child was harmed during the making of this drawing. Only a little stunned when his mommy let out a scream after seeing his "masterpiece'. The drawing was sold a few days later, so it was a happy ending after all. :)