***Painting in the good light, 35 weeks pregnant***

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I LOVE a fresh start. Clean slates, blank canvases, Mondays, defrosted freezer, and, of course, a New Year. For fun, here is a list of life changes I’ve attempted each January 1 over the course of my life:

Veganism (ate eggs the whole time and on day 15, ate foie gras)
Sober January (lasted two days)
Start painting again (would take YEARS to achieve)
10 minutes of yoga every morning (so boring)
Keep my car clean for one whole year (just, no)
Save $5000 in one year (literally not possible)
Lose 50 lbs (cringe. I am truly sorry, little Samantha)

To be clear, this was actually incredibly unfun. Constantly not being able to achieve what the world deemed “good” and “responsible” damaged my sense of worth and value in nearly irreversible ways. It worked like this…

Because I thought my body was too big, I didn’t think I had earned the right to be happy, to thrive, to succeed. I never made enough money, so I thought nothing I offered the world was worth very much. My car was messy, so I was messy. And because I thought my body, my mind, my choices, MY LIFE weren’t in line, I didn’t think I had earned the right to make art or do anything joyful for myself. I was meant to struggle because that’s what I deserved. I even felt bad about myself for changing a song halfway through because that’s what impatient, indecisive people do and those people are weak. Every single action was scrutinized.

It was exhausting.

What changed for me wasn’t making the most of a clean slate under perfection conditions, but a series of very serendipitous events served to me on the messiest, most chaotic plate imaginable. Had I not been pregnant during the pandemic, I probably would have spiraled into dangerous alcoholism and depression. Had I not been let go from my job, I probably wouldn’t have realized how terrible that workplace was for me. While pregnant during the early pandemic, I sat in so much overt unpredictability, internalized fear, and excruciating boredom that I had no choice but come face to face with the core of who I was as a human being. As a mother. And ultimately, as an artist.

***Studio space in the early days, 28 weeks pregnant***

This year, I want to share more of what steered me in the Mother Art direction. There were thoughtful, life changing events and decisions, as well as micro shifts that changed my everyday habits and routines. I’ve talked to far too many mothers, those who stay at home and those in a formally compensated work environment, that are ready for stories of “more”. They’re ready to be weird and creative and brave and engage in something that gives them life. They’re ready to give up systems, standards, and expectations that don’t serve them anymore.

They’re ready to Mother outside the lines. And I bet if you’re reading this, you are too. So, let’s go…

SC