Monday, 2 April 2012
My creative space
I had big plans for this year when it started. It was the year I was going to start writing again, the year I reclaimed my creative space and set time aside each day to practice my craft. And I have. That is the reason behind this blog. But I still shuffle through the hours each day searching for the minutes to gift to myself away from my boys, big and small, and all their needs and desires.
One term into the school year and we have had weeks lost to illness, and a less than enthusiastic response from my four year old to the start of his formal schooling. An attempt at trading babysitting mornings with a good friend foundered when separation anxiety struck both our babes. And my big dreams of whole mornings spent writing and a resurrection of my freelance journalism career fell in a hole. I had a brief glimpse of another life before the horizon closed in ahead of me again.
But the mornings spent nurturing Darcy's days at kindergarten have been worthwhile. He now parts from me happily each morning. He still needs to come home at lunchtime for an afternoon nap, and it is that hour or two each day that I rely on to sit in silence and gather my thoughts. To write, to sketch out ideas, to knit or sew. To fulfill myself in ways other than mothering and all its attendant tasks.
Only four days remain now until the holidays return my husband to me and we share the parenting load for a little while. I will be shouldering on my pack and heading out into the wilderness for one night completely alone. We will be celebrating Easter with friends and heading to the city to visit family and loved ones. And when we return I will be working for the local newspaper from home. Just one or two stories a week, as much as I can handle while also caring for three little boys, but it is a start.
Before I became a mother I was a reporter for a big daily newspaper, cutting my teeth on one of the company's regional mastheads. I always swore that I would never return to working for a provincial newspaper, but I am quite excited about returning to reporting within the context of this beautiful small town community.
I still don't have a dedicated workspace, so will be writing from the dining table or the craft bench I share with my three creative boys. Lewis has kindly drawn a line in black crayon through the slab of rough hewn karri to delineate our work zones - where Pitman shorthand meets polystyrene and pipecleaner boats in the happiest of unions.