Seasons

I found this picture of me in my studio the other day. When I first started painting professionally, I had four kids under the age of four. My life was a paintbrush in one hand and a baby in the other. I remember the mantra “embrace the 15 minutes” being the phrase I lived by. It was impossible to ever disappear into my art for hours, but I found that if I broke things into smaller pieces I could actually make progress and get things done. It felt like those years—those toddlers clinging to my legs, the crying tantrums on my studio floor, the endless needs and interruptions—would never end. But here we are, and that baby from the photo is a busy six year old who just started his own laundry and then ran outside to play baseball. If I could go hug that frazzled mother in the studio (or pep talk my current tired, pandemic instant-full-time-elementary-school-teacher self), I would say have hope. Everything is a season, and seasons pass. (And keeping taking photos of those adorable smiles that also change so much with time) 💕 We’ve got this 👊🏻👊🏻