The constant stRuggle

It’s nothing new. But as a parent, the hardest part is trying to soak it all in. You’re always aware of how fleeting time is, how fast it passes, and you admonish yourself for ever wishing that it might go more quickly, even for a moment. But in most of the moments, you beg for time to slow down, hell even to pause, so that you might remember every sparkle of sunshine that reflects from their faces and every little way they move or chuckle or sigh. And, right when they push you to the edge with their insane toddler logic or relentless waking, they pull you back in with some perfectly adorable sticky hug or nuzzle against your neck.

I don’t have as much time to make art these days as I have in the past. It’s ok; it’s temporary, and I still make enough to get by. But sometimes I wish I had a whole day to spend in the studio, uninterrupted, just building on all the ideas I’ve got floating in my brain. And I try not to let that frustrate me, because I look around and I see these beautiful creatures (that I made! How’s that for artistic creation!) and I take a breath, and I remember that the studio will be there, unchanged, the next morning, but these little faces will have grown just a little bit older.