How Motherhood Changed My Studio Practice as a Professional Artist
There is a version of this story where everything goes perfectly. My hair is smooth, my daughter sleeps through the night, and I arrive composed for my magazine cover shoot. That is not this story.
I am a professional artist. That identity did not arrive quietly. It came through years of late nights, paint-stained hands, and a drive to create that never asked for permission. I used to paint until 1am, wake late, and return to the studio again. The work lived in those quiet hours.
Then motherhood arrived. It didn't take that away. It changed the structure around it.
Now my alarm goes off at 5:30am. The house is still dark. I make coffee, step into the studio, and begin. The light is different. The focus is sharper. There is no drifting into the work anymore. I arrive with intention because I have to.
That shift shows up in the paintings. The lines are more deliberate. The compositions more resolved, like in By The Dock, where overlapping forms create tension and balance at the same time. There is less excess, more clarity. Time is tighter, so every decision matters. If you want to go deeper into how that tension shapes the work itself, Beyond Shape: Creating Life and Tension in Geometric Abstract Painting is a good place to start.
The Day of the Shoot
The night before my magazine cover shoot for Three Sixty Five Collective, my 1.5-year-old had other plans. By morning, she was attached to my hip, and dropping her off at Mimi's felt like pulling away from something essential.
Then came the wind. Not a breeze. Full force, no regard for timing.
I caught a glimpse of myself and made a quick decision: hair down was not happening. I looked like I had grabbed a Van de Graaff generator and held on for dear life.
But here's what I know now: you show up. Not polished. Not perfectly prepared. But present.
That is motherhood. That is also what it means to be a working artist.
The Stories I Never Shared
I've stood next to my work in juried exhibitions and museum shows, with my children wrapped around my legs mid-photo. I never shared those images. At the time, they felt like interruptions.
Now I see them differently. They are part of the work.
The discipline. The compression of time. The constant return to the studio, even when it would be easier not to. It all feeds the practice. That same commitment carried through to Hidden Depth at Bryant Street Gallery, a solo exhibition that felt like a full exhale after a long hold.
Being a woman, a mother, and a professional artist is its own kind of statement. That intersection has shown up in my work in ways I did not always plan, including in a women's rights art exhibition where the personal and the political met on the wall.
This is not a quiet, controlled path. It is structured, demanding, and deeply lived.
And the work is better for it.
Explore the Work
The paintings carry the same energy as this story: deliberate, layered, and made with intention. Each piece is an original, built from the same early mornings and hard-won focus described here.
Browse the current collection and find a piece that belongs in your space.
