I go to work, come home, and take care of my family before I pick up a single paintbrush. There’s nothing really whimsical or astonishing about it from my perspective. It’s part of my life, sort of like a calling I’ve managed to aligning myself with. I belive all women are born to create.
Our bodies are literally cocoons to grow life. Vessels that house and cultivate a seed. Lessons teach us how it’s biologically possible. I always think of the spiritual aspect of creation and how takes us to worlds and realities beyond what we are allowed to see. Child birth is like calling a spirit and bringing it into our world. But that’s essoterical thinking, comical and not to be taken seriously if you prefer to think so.
Lately, I’ve been thinking how domestic labor is an act of creative performance. The energy you carry into your cave after a long day outside, matters to those who share the same roof and yourself. I adore my family, so the performance is easy. Prancing and dancing through my worries so my child won’t carry my visible stress into her era of adulthood.
Cooking isn’t my strongest creative talent, but like any other act of creation, it can be learned and mastered with time. I’m so tired of serving the usual spaghetti, tacos, grilled chicken and fast food at my dinner table.
Artistry and crafting isn’t just for women alone. Men craft too. It just that I don’t have time to point out their majestic creative contributions to the world. There’s plenty of information on the web to fall into.
But I’m just rambling. It’s my day off. I’m not touching my manga until I return back to work.
Go make something today. Make a new dish, make a card and pour your feelings into it. Make a stranger happy by telling them a strange joke (act upon your own advisory 🤣🤣).
Here’s a gallery of just stuff that fed my gaze.
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