I Am My Mother's Daughter: She Paints Through Her Life. I Write Through Mine

Title: Horizons, Artist: Zarmine Aghazarian

When I was young, my mother would take me to the art classes she attended at a community college. I’d sit at the easel next to hers and draw while she worked layer by layer to bring her work to life. Back then, I felt so special and grown up. Now I realize that me accompanying her was much more than a making of a special memory. I was learning how to incorporate art into my life.

What does this have to do with writing? So much. Each moment my mother took time to paint, she was showing me that it was okay to take time for herself. My mother didn’t separate me from her art. My mother didn’t wait to paint around her life, she painted through her life. There was no one to watch me? That’s okay, I went with her.

When my mother asked my thoughts about her work, I felt important. I wasn’t an expert at giving critiques by any means, and I hadn’t yet learned how to give feedback in a helpful, kind way. But my mother didn’t make me feel like a little kid when I gave my opinions. She took everything I said in stride. The experience informed the way I take and give critique, which did me well through my high school art classes, and now as a writer getting feedback from colleagues. (Disclaimer: this is still a work in progress. It takes constant practice).

As a mother I’ve learned that my children inspire my work both quietly and overtly. I hope that my commitment to writing will inspire them. My children see me write. They see me tapping away while making their breakfast. They hear the conversations between my colleagues and I during an amazing coaching class I attend twice a month. Often they listen to the webinars and summits– mostly in passing, though there have been times when one would cuddle next to me. My children aren’t fans of writing… yet, but I still ask them for their thoughts. They ask questions about the world I am writing, and are genuinely interested in my story. I will never not talk to them about my writings.

The lesson I keep most dear because it helps me through the difficult times is a conversation between my mother and I that took place every so often through the years, and it went something like this:

Me: How’s the painting?

Mom: Not good. I ruined it.

Me: I’m sure you didn’t ruin it.

Mom: Yes, I did! That’s it, I’m done. I’m not painting anymore.

Me: You always say that.

Mom: But this time I mean it.

Me: Mom, you always say it, and the next day you paint something amazing.

The conversation would go on, but at its end my mother believed she was done painting and that her life as an artist was over. Inevitably after a day or two, I’d get a phone call from her. “Oh! I started a new style, and I really like it!”

These conversations marked my mother’s artistry growing. Growth can be clunky and hard. It isn’t always an Aha! moment where pieces click into place with ease. Sometimes you resist the change. Or maybe you don’t realize that you’ve outgrown your current work and you are ready to ‘level-up’ or get ‘over-powered’ (gaining points and powers to become a stronger player) as my kids say.

That happens to me again and again. I’m happily writing along when I get hit with the I-have-no-more-ideas-I-should-quit thoughts. Then I remember the conversations with my mother and how they always preceded the Aha! moment for her. Instead of spiraling into negative thoughts I tell myself, I am adapting. My ideas are marinating. I will give myself grace and space. When I am ready I will come back to writing precisely because it challenges me.

That is what my mother did. She went back to painting again and again. She might be painting as I write this. The way my mother approached her art has informed the way I approach mine. I hope my children see me write the way I once watched my mother paint, and carry the memories and lessons with them always. I hope as my children see my struggles and my successes, as they observe the joy I receive through writing, the love of words will embed in their subconscious the way my mother’s love for art has left its mark on me.

In case you are interested:

For a few years now I have been attending Rebecca Pickens’ Self-Editing Essentials, a group coaching class that has sharpened my writing. It has also connected me to an engaging community of writers who motivate and inspire me. I am grateful for both.

https://rebeccapickens.com/