Reclaiming art in my life

"All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up." - Pablo Picasso

When I was pregnant for the first time, I spent a summer at our house in DC without much to do. I had decided against teaching summer school due to the school's lack of an air conditioner and my growing need for one and Evie wasn't due until September. During that time, I kept thinking about how all I wanted to do was paint. I was itching to drive off somewhere with a canvas and some oil paints and spend a day lost in a painting. I knew, however, that my pregnant belly and I would have to stay away from the toxic materials required for oil painting and I consoled myself with the thought that soon enough I'd have a perfect subject to paint.
Little did I know that seven years later I still wouldn't have picked up a brush. Or a sketching pencil. Or a pastel stick. Or pretty much anything art-related that wasn't wrapped in paper with "Crayola" written down the side.

Last year, in an attempt to help me get some art back in my life, Toby gave me a coupon for a photography class for Christmas. Due to his work schedule, a new baby, moving and now the girls' basketball schedule, the class has yet to happen. However, I'm determined that this is the year that I will reclaim art in my life. I've thought about it every year, especially around this time of year, but even this year I left it off my New Year's Resolution List (see "2009" entry) because I felt it would be too big of a challenge to try to fit it in. Then this week it hit me that the time will never be right unless I make it a priority. And just as quickly as that decision was made, it's suddenly falling into place.

I still can't take the class, but with a little creativity, I'll still be improving my photography skills this year. I ordered a book on digital photography this week. Two friends and I are starting a photography "club", where we'll meet once a month to compare photos we've taken based on that month's "assignment".

And then today, Sarah and I took the girls and Ethan to the LACMA to expose all of us to some works of art. When we went to the Getty a few months ago, Evie declared that she "liked everything but the art" so I had low expectations for the day. In an attempt to combat their restlessness in the museum, I bought the girls all blank notebooks and brought them to the museum with the assignment of sketching their favorite work from each exhibit. To my surprise, they loved it. I had to drag them out of each room (since Noni wasn't quite as engaged) and they came home with notebooks filled with their own sketches. That won't be our last trip to the LACMA this year.

I've also decided that once every two weeks, while Noni is napping, I will pick up a paintbrush (seven years rusty!) and paint. It sounds like a modest goal, but truthfully, it won't be easy. It's hard to walk by crumbs on the floor and a dangerously teetering pile of laundry during the one hour of a day that I have free to clean.

Stinky laundry or not, I'm determined to meet my goal. If I don't do it now, when will I? I've always pictured art as something that would constantly enrich my life, not something to be left for my retirement. And, as I've learned to do with exercise, I need to realize that the time that I take for myself to do art is actually time that I'm giving to my family. Evie and Lucy spend hours each day drawing, painting, and making sculptures out of anything they can find. What better way to show them that time is important than to jump back into it myself?