Commissioning Art from the Inside

A while back my friend Maria said something that immediately glommed onto my psyche and has come to be an integral part of my belief as a mother. She was talking about the expectations we place on our children to "become" something. That as a child she felt pressure to "become" that which her parents expected of her: the good student, a college grad, a journalist, etc. She said that in her own mothering, she was taking a new stance: that she acknowledges who her children ARE; right where they're standing. Instead of telling her son that he's going to be a great scientist someday because of the way he hypothesizes, she acknowledges that he IS a great scientist. He embodies this gift right now, in the present.

I love this. Our children are who they are and although it's our responsibility as parents to nudge our kids and expose them and teach them and all, we can't ignore the gifts that are inherently theirs.

That said, my daughter is an artist. I've been longing to have the art of Margaret Kilgallen on my walls and this past weekend, I reminded myself that I live with an artist. She's nine and she's incredible. So, I showed her some of Kilgallen's art and she obliged me with some paintings. I've got my art. I've got my artist.