Creative / Parent

Ruth Asawa

noreply@blogger.com (Carren) — Mon, 29 Jan 2018 21:13:00 +0000

Less than five years after graduating from Black Mountain College, in North Carolina, Ruth Asawa's industrial-wire sculptures were getting notice in the national press, though invariably her pieces were dismissed as women's craft work, as opposed to art. These are "domestic sculptures in a feminine, handiwork mode," ArtNews said in 1956. Such critiques masked her relentless subversiveness. Such critiques masked her relentless subversiveness....

One of her favorite photos was taken by Imogen Cunningham, a photographer and a friend: Asawa's naked 1-year-old drinks from a bottle, an older sibling draws, Asawa crochets wire and her giant sculptures envelop all. "It was always just a part of our life to just see her always working," her daughter Aiko recalled recently. "And if we really wanted to talk to her, we got one of the dowels, and we'd start coiling wire for her, so that we'd be helping her and having a conversation with her." The distinction between domestic and nondomestic art would have made no sense to Asawa. "Art is doing," she wrote. "Art deals directly with life."

New York Times

Ruth Asawa was a wonderful artist, who created beautiful sculptures out of wire. I never realized that her family life was an integral part of her life. While reading about her, I found that her domestic face was something that was taken against her, that somehow her work was less profound because of it. I hope times have changed that this portrayal as a mother does not deter one's legitimacy as an artist.

Amy Krouse Rosenthal

noreply@blogger.com (Carren) — Mon, 20 Mar 2017 21:53:00 +0000

“Amy ran at life full speed and heart first,” Maria Modugno, her editor at Random House, said in a phone interview. “Her writing was who she was.”

She started writing ad copy after graduating from Tufts University in 1987. After nine years at Foote, Cone & Belding (now FCB), Ms. Rosenthal was on maternity leave with her two toddler sons and infant daughter at McDonald’s when she experienced what she called a “McEpiphany,” deciding to become an author.

What she described as her plastic fork in the road led to countless dead ends, however, until she published “Little Pea,” about a pod denied his favorite dessert (spinach) until he finished all his candy (which he detested). The book received favorable reviews, and her course was set. Her other books included “Spoon,” “Duck! Rabbit!” and “Little Oink.”

New York Times

I've only recently come across Rosenthal and her work, ironically, because of her passing. From the sampling I've read, she's one that spreads inspiration, even with three children in tow. Based on her obituary, even after her diagnosis, she still managed to produce seven more books.

Her favorite line from literature was in Thornton Wilder's "Our Town," when Emily bids the world goodbye. She says, “Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?”

Lisa Belkin

noreply@blogger.com (Carren) — Wed, 05 Mar 2014 04:38:00 +0000

Fact is, we can't be fully at home and fully at work at the same time -- not if work is in a distant office tower and not even if work is in the next room. Work and life don't overlap so much as they collide or intersect, leaving us to sit in our ergonomically correct swivel chairs and pivot between the two. And each time we turn toward one, we are, in that moment, turning away from the other.

Lisa Belkin, New York Times

Belkin can often be found writing about the challenges of parenthood while juggling work. I found this one article to be a helpful metaphor when thinking about parenthood at home. In it, Belkin talks about working from home not really being the rosy solution it is usually imagined to be. Despite the proximity to one's children, one still has to set boundaries because of work. That's a tough one to manage, especially when your kids can see you physically present, but perhaps mentally absent while with them.

Francine Prose

noreply@blogger.com (Carren) — Wed, 05 Mar 2014 01:58:00 +0000

Back in the day, when my kids were little and I lived in the country and I was an unknown novelist, I had a schedule so regular that it was practically Pavlovian, and I loved it. The school bus came, I started to write. The school bus returned, I stopped.

Francine Prose, Daily Rituals: How Artists Work

One notes that Prose's strategy works with children that are old enough to go to school. I wonder how she dealt with the earlier stages in their lives.

Toni Morrison

noreply@blogger.com (Carren) — Sat, 01 Mar 2014 01:51:00 +0000

...the important thing is that I don't do anything else. I avoid the social life normally associated with publishing. I don't go to the cocktail parties, I don't give or go to dinner parties. I need that time int he evening because I can do a tremendous amount of work then. And I can concentrate. When I sit down to write, I never brood. I have so many other things to do, with my children and teaching, that I can't afford it.

Toni Morrison, Daily Rituals: How Artists Work

Nobel Prize- and Pulitzer Prize-winning American novelist, Toni Morrison has an impressive body of work, but she was equally amazing when it comes to managing her time. She was an editor at Random House, a teacher of literature, and raised her two sons single-handedly. She did it by writing every chance she got and even sacrificing her social life. Morrison's example points to the stark simplicity and focus needed to juggle both parenthood and a constant creative output.

Alma Mahler

noreply@blogger.com (Carren) — Tue, 25 Feb 2014 01:36:00 +0000

There's such a struggle going on in me! And a miserable longing for someone who thinks OF ME, who helps me to find MYSELF! I've sunk the level of a housekeeper!

Alma Mahler, Daily Rituals

Gustav Mahler is a well-known composer and conductor. His work is performed by orchestras around the world and his wife helped make that possible. Alma made sure no sound would disturb Mahler in his working hours. She would stop playing the piano. She shushed up neighbors with promises of opera tickets, so they would keep their dogs indoors. She would accompany the composer on long walks by the shore. Before marrying Mahler, however, Alma was a composer in her own right.

According to Currey, Mahler made her give up composition because "there could only be one composer in the family." This is no model for creative partnership at all, but I write it down to show that situations like this happen and I'm sure we'd all rather avoid it.

Frances Trollope

noreply@blogger.com (Carren) — Thu, 20 Feb 2014 17:00:00 +0000

She did not begin writing until the age of fifty-three, and then only because she desperately needed money to support her six children and ailing husband. In order to squeeze the necessary writing time out of the day while still acting as the primary caregiver to her family, Mrs. Trollope sat down at her desk each day at 4:00 a.m. and completed her writing in time to serve breakfast.

Mason Currey, Daily Rituals: How Artists Work

Though Frances Trollope didn't start writing until late in life, by the time she passed away at aged 84, she had 40 books under her belt. With a work ethic like this, it is no wonder. If one needs to get work done, one finds the time is the lesson Trollope imparts. Other duties aren't excuses.

Trollope's example was followed by her son, Anthony, who penned 47 novels and 16 other books using the same practice. Anthony woke up at 5:30 am every morning and worked for three hours straight. Until he had to start his duties at the General Post Office. He writes in his Autobiography, "...three hours a day will produce as much as a man out to write. But then, he should have trained himself that he shall be able to work continuously during those three hours,--do have tutored his mind that it shall not be necessary for him to sit nibbling his pen, and gazing at the wall before him." Would the same logic work on new parents spending time with their children, I wonder?

Amy Richards

noreply@blogger.com (Carren) — Mon, 17 Feb 2014 17:00:00 +0000

In my household we do come pretty close to equally shared parenting. Peter does 80 % of the laundry and all of the grocery shopping. He makes Webber's lunch for school at least 50% of the time and takes care of all our car parking responsibilities...Of the twenty or so doctor's appointments, he has missed about two, and I've missed none. He does most of the dishes..I do most of the cooking and cleaning. On the latter, I do occasionally ask for help with vacuuming or scrubbing the tub...I pay for most of the child-related expenses (pre-school, health insurance, babysitters) and keep track of our needs for diapers, new clothes or toys. We each end up having one night a week out by ourselves..We usually get a sitter one night a week so we can go out together. We share the task of bill paying and responsibilities related to Webber's school. We walk Webber to and from school as a family...I must say I have less alone time. Peter's much better at playing with kids for concentrated amounts of time. I'm distracted and always trying to combine activities...In my defense, I must say that I have less alone time. I'm more likely to take the kids out for the day--combining my library visits with theirs and running errands with a thirty-minute stop at the playground. For Peter and me, sharing the chores of parenting pretty much works: if we were keeping score, which I occasionally do, it would come out sixty-forty, with me on the sixty side.

Amy Richards, Opting In: Having a Child Without Losing Yourself

Amy Richards is a writer, feminist and activist. Her recounting of her work-life balance is a comforting thing to read. It proves that, in some cases, it is possible to parent while being professionally productive. She does note though that her situation differs from most. She is the main breadwinner in her household. Her husband, Peter, has flexible working hours since he sells wine and teaches music. They also don't have a lot of disposable income, which is a good thing. "We find creative ways to make everything that we want to do possible: work, exercise, family time, and alone time," writes Richards.

It does sound like a perfect arrangement, where both parents have the flexibility and the psychological temperament to prioritize happiness over keeping up with the Joneses. There is a consequence, Richard writes, "The biggest compromise Peter and I make in exchange for our shared parenting is long-term financial security. We both could work a bit harder at our jobs or make more compromises in our professional lives, yet we're stuck in the bind of wanting both to be present parents and also to support our family financially. I'm still recovering from a decade of working to build the Third Wave Foundation, and now that I'm a mother, it's not realistic for me to pull consecutive all-nighters. I've proved that I can work hard at my profession, and I know I want to do that again. But for now, I'm content 'working' but not in overdrive."

Brene Brown

noreply@blogger.com (Carren) — Wed, 12 Feb 2014 17:00:00 +0000

Somewhere buried deep inside our hopes and fears for our children is the terrifying truth that there is no such thing as perfect parenting and there are no guarantees. From debates about attachment parenting and how much better they parent in Europe to disparagement of "tiger moms" and helicopter parents, the heated discussions that occupy much of the national parenting conversation conveniently distract us from this important and difficult truth: Who we are and how we engage with the world are much stronger predictors of how our children will do than what we know about parenting.

Brené Brown, Daring Greatly

There is so much to learn, do, and understand when contemplating becoming a parent. Brown points out that all these pale in comparison to be actually being there and modeling what you want your children to become in the future. It's both a relief (that one doesn't have to know everything) but also a burden (since how good a parent you are is actually predicated on how good a person you are or try to be).

Lakshmi Chaudry

noreply@blogger.com (Carren) — Mon, 10 Feb 2014 17:30:00 +0000

...after spending years waiting for my green card, I am moving back home...For the first time since contemplating motherhood, I feel relaxed and confident. I won't be alone when I have my baby. Of course, I now have a whole new set of fears. I worry that the communal culture in India, which makes it such a wonderful place to raise a family, might feel stifling. I worry about finding a job there that I will like. And I worry that when I return to San Francisco in a few years, the friendships and the career I worked so hard to build will be gone.

- Lakshmi Chaudry, Maybe Baby

Out of all the essays in this book, it was Chaudry's that really caught my eye. Like me, she has roots in a communal culture, where child-rearing is made infinitely easier with a strong network of family and help.

Unlike the US, parenting in India seemed free of the plaguing guilt or need to compete with other parents. She writes, "The women I grew up with in India....were career women who had chosen motherhood without losing themselves. They didn't spend time wrestling with guilt when at work or out with friends, not when they knew that their kids were safe in the care of a close member of the extended family...Their lives did not shrink into a daily ritual of baby-tending activities, but instead grew richer and more complex, as motherhood added new layers to their identity."

Her own fears of balancing work and life are those I am experiencing now. In her essay she says, "I knew there must be women in America who had figured out how to balance the demands of motherhood and their own needs for a fulfilling life, but I hadn't met them. Willingly or otherwise, each mother I knew had sacrificed something--career, a social life, and, in some cases, a happy marriage--at the altar of maternity."

Based on her writing and my own observations, I'm coming to realize that child-rearing shouldn't really be a solo or even tandem sport. It's something that's undertaken by a community and I suppose, given the United States' individualistic culture, that's difficult to accomplish.

Lionel Shriver

noreply@blogger.com (Carren) — Thu, 06 Feb 2014 22:20:00 +0000

I begrudge my phantom children the time they would require (and deserve); I would rather write more books. I love spending time with my husband, and when we go somewhere, I emphatically do not want anyone else along...My income as a writer varies wildly and is perpetually insecure; it's hard enough for me to spring for a new bicycle, and my desire to instead save all my pennies to send someone else to an overpriced college is immeasurably wee.

- Lionel Shriver, Maybe Baby

You can tell Lionel is a no nonsense woman. She lays out her thoughts on motherhood clearly and logically. I appreciate her candor and the fact the she can write without worry, "Small children bore me speechless," further on in the paragraph. You can read more of her thoughts on motherhood in this Guardian article.

Michelle Goldberg

noreply@blogger.com (Carren) — Mon, 03 Feb 2014 17:00:00 +0000

I can sort of see that it might be nice to have children, but there are a thousand things I'd rather spend my time doing than raise them. The daily grind of motherhood seems like a prison sentence to me. Though I have nothing but respect for the work of raising children, I don't like being around them. At least, I don't like being around most of them most of the time. Some people say I'll feel different about my own, but I'm not sure I want to take the risk.

Michelle Goldberg, Maybe Baby adapted from Salon

I envy the certainty people like Michelle have when it comes to becoming a parent. With the question of breeding out of the way, she can better focus her energies elsewhere. Since she's written the essay from which this was quoted, Michelle has written about women's issues and women's rights. She's traveled to far-flung places like Jordan, India and Argentina. She also has two books under her belt.

In this essay, Michelle advocates for choice. She notes that in more than one hundred interviews Madelyn Cain, author of The Childless Revolution: What It Means to Be Childless Today, has found that it was "choice, not motherhood, [that was] the key to happiness." Michelle wraps it up with inputs from Rick Hanson, a California clinical psychologist, who says, "The happy people are the ones who wanted kids and had them or didn't want kids and didn't have them."

Anne Lamott

noreply@blogger.com (Carren) — Fri, 31 Jan 2014 02:36:00 +0000

...not one part of me thinks you need to have children in order to be whole, or that there are parts of yourself that cannot be revealed in any other way. Some people with children like to believe this. Having a child legitimizes them somehow, completes them, validates their psychic parking tickets. They tell pregnant women and couples and one another that those who have chosen not to breed can never know what real love is, what selflessness really means. They like to say that having a child taught them about authenticity.

This is total crock. Many of the most shut-down, narcissistic, selfish frauds on earth have children. Many of the most evolved--the richest in spirit, and the most giving--choose not to. For parents to imply a deeper realm of living is pure arrogance.

Anne Lamott, Maybe Baby

Novelist Anne Lamott wrote what is perhaps one of my favorite books on writing, Bird by Bird. She had her child at 34, with no partner to help her and a couple of abortions behind her. She says in her foreword that the reason she became a parent was first of all, her body said, Do It.

Was she worried that she couldn't hack it? Maybe, but she writes further on, "My faith told me that my child and I would be covered, that God's love as expressed in the love of my friends and family and chosen family, would provide for us, and this turned out to be true.