In a recent Instagram post, I soft-launched a plan that has been percolating for quite some time. I’ve been trying to articulate my thoughts with the right words or medium for the past year, but I haven’t been able to find them. I feel both lost and hopeful. It’s like I’m swimming through a dark lake, unable to see ahead of me, and floating at the top to get my bearings. Looking back, looking ahead, and giving myself pep talks as I search for land, take a breath, and keep forward momentum.
I do recognize that this existential crisis in my work has coincided with a deep sense of loss as an empty-nester. Motherhood and creativity both have such blurry lines; one easily blends into the other. They ebb and flow together. As female artists who are also mothers, most of us don’t have the luxury of leaving our parenting responsibilities behind and going to the studio for 8 or 10 hours. The problem-solving, the caretaking, the emotional weight… that is the work. We have to fit our creative lives around all of that, and bake it in. If we are lucky.
On the heels of an empty home, a new addition to my daily routine in the past 6 months has been visiting my 87-year-old mother, who now needs around-the-clock care. We live 8 minutes from each other, and we’ve devised a break in the afternoons where she has no help for about four hours. This time gives her that old feeling of independence – like she is still in charge of her life. I visit during this time to help with bathroom breaks, chat about her day, look in her fridge and make sure she has food, show her photos on my phone of her grandkids, and make her feel like she’s still a part of our world.
They call this season of life that I’m in something like a sandwich – in between caring for both your children and your parents. It’s a transition you can’t prepare for, and although I do feel the highs and lows deeply, I can only exist in this middle place with a profound gratitude for having so many people in my life to love. Even when it feels draining and sad.
As transitions go, once the ball is rolling, you start to look ahead more than you look back, and so here I am in a new phase that I am finally ready to acknowledge.
I have been writing my blog here for 14 years and have accumulated over 500 posts that are free for anyone to read, learn from, and be inspired by. This blog has allowed me to write two books, meet new friends from all over the world, and create a community of parents, teachers, and makers that I would never have dreamed of finding “in real life” in my small, conservative town.
I love documenting and sharing my creative life both here and on Instagram, but there is a new reality. My friends, generative AI is stealing my work, and I cannot ignore this. Not just my work, but everyone’s work. Every artist, writer, musician, and maker is feeding AI whenever they put their content on the internet. It is the Wild West right now, and there are no rules or laws to protect us.
This preamble is leading me to my main message, and it is breaking my heart, to be perfectly honest.
I have decided to write and share all new content on Patreon moving forward. I am devastated to have to put a paywall between you and me, but I need to protect my work. It’s just that simple. Right now I don’t even feel motivated to share my creative life, and I need my mojo back, especially during this weird sandwich phase when making and sharing things is the very best therapy.
I will still post here on my blog once a month, or maybe more. I plan to create some much-needed “best of” posts, revising old blog content, and offering sneak peeks of all my new Patreon work. I will still send my Art Bar newsletter and still share ideas for free. I will always be here in this community.
This is not a goodbye, because I hate those and have a hard time even writing the words. I’m just transitioning to something new, and I’m inviting you to join me. On Patreon, I will share my work and my creative life twice per month. One post will be typical for Art Bar, where I’ll share process art, DIY, or new projects for tweens and teens. On Patreon, though, I will also offer these posts as printable guides so you can start an analog collection of Art Bar ideas. The other monthly post will focus on my development as an artist. I’ll share my journals, my materials, my travel, and any bits of inspiration along the way. You will hold me accountable and will be my patrons on the journey to my first art show (eeeek, so scary!). The dream has always been to be a working artist by age 60. I have three years to get there, and I can only do it with you by my side.
I hope some of you will join me!
Much love and gratitude to you all.
xx Bar
Leave a Reply