Creative Parents
When schools announced that they were extending March break in response to the COVID-19 pandemic, it felt manageable—a longer vacation. As dates were pushed back, closures swept through and cancellations rolled in, parents braced themselves for a more extensive disruption to their lives and routines.
My pandemic experience has been dictated by my five-year-old daughter’s experience. As a creative, who works part-time and often from home, my live/work/make/play/eat space looks and feels very different now. Our routines are shifting and changing, and as the weeks pass by, I now know that this shift will certainly reshape my family’s future.
Creative parents have to work to reconcile the gap between having children and having a creative practice. During a pandemic, though, this gap feels more like a gorge. For this Communiqué, I reached out to my community of parent-artists and designers to listen and find comfort. Some of them were prevented from writing because of tragedies and challenges that have affected their lives. I’m grateful for those who were able to participate, and I was moved by their stories.
Steve Tippin, glass artist, Tippin Glass
I am a glass artist with both an MFA and an MBA. These days I’m in love with marketing, specifically search engine optimization and increasing traffic to websites. I was laid off, and so now I’m looking after my two daughters, aged four and eight. Some days, it’s a blessing, others, it’s more of a challenge.
I have experienced a huge hole in connecting to creativity.
One way that I survive this is by coming up with kid-friendly activities that allow me to get my creative demons out. For Mother’s Day, my daughters and I made a necklace for Mommy. Another day, we made monsters out of toilet paper rolls and markers—my creative kids enhanced the monster with a tab that flips from a happy to an angry face!
It’s not all fun and games, though. Some days, they play well but sometimes they fight, bicker and try to annoy each other. Other days, finding time to work out or even shower is a challenge.
The worst part of this period is that I worry that skills and knowledge are leaving my body—I feel very insecure and underprepared to return to the post-quarantine world.
I really love being able to spend time and bond with my children daily. I will never have this chance again— I know that I’m lucky . . . gotta go, they’re fighting again. —May 28
Nick Chase, illustrator and t-shirt printer, Blackhare Apparel
I'll be honest, thinking about getting back to work full time is probably where most of my anxiety lies these days. With two little ones under four, it'll be a real juggling act to fit in regular work hours with 24/7 parenting and no daycare.
Nick’s son playing in the dirt. Representing the Blackhare family business.
My wife and I both have jobs—she's working from home and I'll be back to it after my parental leave ends in early summer. We run our side business, Blackhare, out of our basement studio. Our house is very small, with no real office space and a vent that shoots noise right from our loud studio into the baby's room. We have to be very strategic in terms of who works on what and when, like so many people these days! Making sure we're both staying on top of things while also being attentive to our kids is the toughest part about all this. So, busy is good, but finding the time to handle it is tough. Not unlike times before, just in a new sort of way. But we're also very lucky in the sense that we love hanging out together and are appreciative of the extra time we get to spend with our kids, who are three years old and seven months old. Our yard has never looked better, we go on bike rides and even managed to start some new hobbies. In terms of our print business, we've had a real outpouring of support, and have actually been busier than usual. It seems that people are really making a concerted effort to support local business, craftspeople and entrepreneurs. I think, generally, the looming threat of getting back to it is making us reevaluate what we want our lives to be on the other side, in a lot of different ways. —June 4.
Margaret’s boys decorate summertime cookies.
Margaret Lim, artist and jeweller, Margaret Lim
Most of my energy these days has gone to my kids. My eldest being at home has turned me into his new kindergarten teacher. The trick was finding a way to also include my three-year-old son, who feels left out because he had no school work. A lot of energy has been spent on trying to help my kids learn how to read and write and finding creative ways not to lose my mind.
I don’t want to look back at this time and feel like I squandered it. Kids spend so little time with their parents once they go to school, so being able to spend so much time with them is pretty great. Although I do often tell them: “Mommy needs alone time, do NOT knock on my door.”
For now, my studio time is used to work on commissions. But when I dream about the future and start to picture what my studio practice will look like after restrictions are removed, it is impossible for me to imagine, with everything our world is currently experiencing. I don’t know that I would want to return to business as usual.—June 5.
Janet Macpherson, ceramic artist, Janet Macpherson
I am a ceramic artist living and working in Hamilton, Ont. I have a four-year-old daughter named Frances. I am used to working from the studio in my basement, so being at home a lot is not that strange for me. But being at home all day everyday with a four-year-old is exhausting, often tedious, emotionally charged, hilarious and absurd. Frances started junior kindergarten last autumn, and my husband and I had happily embraced the daily six-hour window of time in which to work on our art projects, answer emails, prepare curriculum for our part-time teaching jobs and all the other things that self-employed artists do in a day.
Now, our days have blended into a morass of making meals, eating, screentime, arguing about screentime, attempting to cajole Frances to do any kind of schoolwork and playing in the backyard. We all suffer a little bit from inertia during these times, so it often takes hours to finally get Frances dressed in the morning, convince her to come outside and ride her bike, or read some books with us, or anything else she doesn’t feel like doing. We hang out—a lot. I know we are very, very, lucky, we have a house with a backyard. And we have each other. We share child care equally, and we will hopefully stay healthy and safe.
I also have to take breaks from social media, where many people are using this time to be very productive. It isn’t that for me right now. I still work in my studio a little bit, but I’m not all that motivated; I’m just not sure who I’m making work for, or for what. Who will buy my work? How will I make money? It could be constructive to spend a few uninterrupted days in there, reacquainting myself with my art practice and see if the joy of making returns.
Janet and Frances sculpting in the basement ceramics studio.
I’m not sure what my career will look like when we emerge from this pandemic. I don’t have an answer. This is probably naïve. I should set up an online store. I should think about what happens after the CERB.
I will get to it soon.
I am trying to keep my anxiety and anger levels down, but I know my daughter understands that something is not right. Frances calls the pandemic “the sickness,” and so many of her sentences begin with “when the sickness is over can we…?” I hope we can in the near future, but the future is so unknown.—June 5.
Krystal Speck, ceramic artist, Krystal Speck
When my son was almost one, I started clay work again. I had recently moved back to Muskoka where we renovated our home garage into my studio. Working creatively again felt forced, but good. I had show deadlines and managed to fill some orders, getting studio time first on my partner’s days off, and then during nap time and nights. My son has been on a waitlist for daycare in Muskoka for one and a half years, and to be very frank, my potter’s wage doesn’t even come close to paying for that childcare, so it might just be a fantasy.
Krystal’s son helping with production work in her garage studio.
About a month before the pandemic, I reached a point in my parenting/art journey where I was feeling so split between my two roles and of the self-imposed guilt I was feeling for not excelling in either of them, that I knew I might have to take a hiatus. Admitting this was freeing, but again came the cycles of guilt. Then COVID-19 hit and I was forced to hit pause anyway. All of my shows/projects set for this year were cancelled or postponed until 2021.
So where am I right now with all of this? Kind of where I've been for the past two years. Here comes that word again...on hiatus , but finally coming to terms with it. I’m pouring all my creative energy into my kid. Seeing him grow and change on a daily basis, and being present to witness that is an incredible privilege. Our house is a mess, but our hearts are full.
I'm starting to learn how to give myself the grace I offer to other parents and self-employed artists. That we don't have to move mountains right now. We can pick up again when we’re ready. A good day could just mean making sure you’re all eating your vegetables and doing some deep learning about bees and pollination, digging in the dirt, and repeatedly finding answers to the question, "What that?!"—June 6.
Brad Turner, glass artist and designer, Brad Turner
I’m experiencing the peak of the “terrible twos” right now, as my daughter tests every boundary she can find. It can be a little frustrating at times, but frustration is likely a cruise when a pandemic, an economic meltdown and racial tensions are running a tight race. Those realities aside, what is further frustrating and exhausting is watching my creative career evaporate right in front of my bleary eyes. I had already moved across the country and put my career on hold to become my daughter’s primary caregiver. Parenting has its own rewards, but I can’t help but feel pieces of myself being lost in the process.
I was really optimistic that this was the year I would be able to get some of those pieces back. Right before the pandemic began, some of the best opportunities of my career came into light, and things were really beginning to align. I really thought I’d be able to build my career back up. Those opportunities haven’t left, but with no childcare and no time, I don’t know how I’m going to take advantage of them. I worry that I’m going to be left with a lot of regret, or worse, animosity. There’s respiratory issues in our family too, so it’s a pretty big gamble to go back to work without a vaccine. Being a maker is already enough of a gamble.—July 9.
