“she tapped her finger & nothing happened & she thought she had lost her
magic, but it had only changed & it took her awhile to figure it out.”
well, my friends, it has been three years since we first gathered here on PaintCutPaste. now, on my three year blogiversary, the time as come for this chapter to close and another to open.
as is the very title of this blog: we paint (create, form, adorn) we cut (break apart, destroy, change,) we paste together (reform, recycle, rebirth.) this is the natural cycle of the seasons and of life.
here together, we’ve dreamt into what we might invite our children to create and what our children inspire us to become. i began this blog when my daughter was just two years old. at the time, she was just beginning to awaken to the possibilities of art. i delighted in introducing her to each new type of paint and clay and pencil — she was making friends with new tools that would help her to communicate. i had the honor of witnessing this visual language develop alongside her verbal language, with equal importance in expressing her viewpoint and her spirit.
making marks at 1 year 4 months old
now, at nearly 5.5 years old, she is off and running, manifesting her own artistic visions each day with paper and mud and washi tape. these visions will continue to grow and change with her throughout her entire life. in recent months, i’ve quietly pursued her independent art process with my trusty iphone camera, like a stealthy art-huntress, in an effort to whip the photos up into something to share with you all, something “blog-worthy.” much of the art gets made in her kindergarten classroom, and much of her exploring at home is so spontaneous and in-the-moment that it’s quite elusive, even to the seasoned art-huntress momma. it felt forced, so i had to pause and listen. in paying close attention, i learned that this art bloggy way of being –one that used to be organic to my role as a mom, to the rhythm of my home, and to my daughter– has shifted.
an art therapist mentor of mine once said to me once that individuation between parent and child (who are in a securely attached relationship) is a parallel process. meaning that when a child is ready to gain another smidge of independence, a parent is also ready to reclaim a bit more space for her/himself. a beautiful phenomenon. we all do this dance with our children, don’t we? even the best dancers miss a beat sometimes — there are moments when the child becomes more clingy than we might prefer. sometimes the child is off and running across the schoolyard before we’ve had a chance to give a big warm hug, and we get that all too familiar lump in the throat.
the time does come, slowly and in bits, allowing space for parent and child to each radiate our own, true SELF. let’s not underestimate that the task of finding oneself can be just as much of an identity crisis for a new parent, reorganizing and reforming and restructuring a way of being in the world, as it can be for a child who is finding her way for the first time.
in my first blog entry of 2012, i let you all know i would be changing focus of this blog to include more of momma art. i was feeling the tide (um, and pinterest!) pulling me into my own creative projects that i really wanted to share with each of you. our mornings have been a time when N has been involved in her busy job as a kindergartener while i’ve acquired head-space to become more involved in my career as an art therapist. i am so excited to share with you all the direction of this path – which is very much about artfully and spiritually supporting women in the early stages of mothering… from pregnancy to birth to the lifelong role of parenting.
so this is not goodbye, it’s growth. PaintCutPaste’s healthy archive of creative projects for children from infancy into kindergarten will still be here, hopefully soon to be organized into a very accessible format so we can all draw on it as a resource. the blog will also begin to feature new inspirational pieces for parents who are creating our lives anew, as our hearts have grown to include these huge spirits housed in the cute little bodies of our children.
it is with deep, sincere GRATITUDE that i write this to you, dear readers. you have inspired me endlessly with your words, images, ideas, and feedback. a blog that began in 2009 as a “hey grandma, look what we made today!” endeavor became part of a supportive, rich, and creative blogging community i had no idea existed before, and a community that has grown exponentially in the three years i’ve been blogging in this little niche. i’m excited for the next chapter to emerge –organically and authentically in line with who i am and the shape my family takes– and for you all to come with us on the journey. you’ll see me back here soon.
with many artful blessings, gratitude, and love -
“the creative adult is the child who has survived.”
- ursula k. leGuin
the way wings should
what will our children do in the morning? will they wake with their hearts wanting to play, the way wings should?
will they have dreamed the needed flights and gathered the strength from the planets that all men and women need to balance the wonderful charms of the earth
so that her power and beauty does not make us forget our own?
i know all about the ways of the heart – how it wants to be alive.
love so needs to love that it will endure almost anything, even abuse, just to flicker for a moment. but the sky’s mouth is kind, its song will never hurt you, for i sing those words.
what will our children do in the morning if they do not see us fly?