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Kyran of Notes to Self wrote me recently to make me aware of a post she wrote regarding the challenges of raising children while tending to her writing and poetry. Her creative time is prepared carefully with snacks, a captivating television show and while taking a picture of her kids and finding her oldest uncooperative, threats of:
"Do it," I said, darkly, "or no more television for the rest of your life."
I know Kyran's feeling all too well. There are times when I'm designing that the art comes easy, flowing, and suddenly I have a toddler on my lap, which is not condusive to delicate pixel art or html coding. As Kyran writes:
I refuse to buy into the tortured artist cliche, but there is no getting around the truth that making art is a process of delving deep, and there is a certain amount of compression that happens, depending on how long and to what depths you dive. It is jarring to have to resurface suddenly. I get the bends. I need a controlled, contained environment in which to gradually re-enter life.
Though I am sure Kyran loves her children with all her heart, I completely understand the need to go deep into one's creative soul and not be inturrupted, jarred back to reality by sibling squabbles or screaming for snacks. As I wrote this post, I was inturrupted at least 356 times. She, like me, needs a wife. Heh.
Kyran has a great sense of humour regarding the issue, saying:
At least they will not lack for material should any of them go into the family business.
Amen to that, Kyran. You said it.
Contributing Editor Karen Rani also blogs at Troll Baby, Motherless, and owns Troll Baby Graphics.
