Mothering Your Art Matters!
3 Ways To Nurture Your Practice
Let’s be real. Mother’s Day could never fully capture the depth, complexity, and constant labor of mothering. Whether it’s the physical demands, emotional work, or the essential acts of care, mothering is a full-time, year-round experience. And while we often celebrate biological motherhood on this day, it's also a perfect moment to reflect on the broader idea of mothering as a form of care, creation, and deep responsibility, especially when it comes to art.
Centuries ago, mothering was a communal practice. People who gave birth could count on a network of support as they risked their lives to bring new lives into being. Nowadays, caregivers are increasingly isolated, tasked with going at it alone and pressured to provide in more ways than one. And still, the labor must be done.
We also can’t forget those who may be triggered by this day because, either they’ve lost their mother or they never felt a deep connection to a mother-figure?
When I was younger, people routinely asked me if and when I wanted kids. It was as if society taught adults to view kids as objects, property, something to keep us company. Now that I’m older and child-free by choice, I’ve come to see that the instincts we often associate with motherhood (nurturing, protecting, guiding) are just as vital in other areas of life (and not every woman has mothering instincts, which is ok).
I’d add that I see artist-parents in my community as allies in the struggle to support future generations of visionaries—a job that we all should take on because our creative practice depends on it. Being an artist-parent is a radical act, especially living under an oppressive government that promises to punish people who are already in poverty while defunding life-changing arts programming.
Think of it this way, to embark on mothering as a practice is potentially remarkable.
In fact, you should mother your art. Here are three reasons why:
1. Your Art Is Born From You—Treat It Like It Matters
Your artistic ideas begin inside of your psyche. For a long time, there's little separation between you and your creation, it’s an extension of your thoughts, your emotions, your identity. You must carry it, feed it, build it quietly before anyone even knows it exists.
And just like you wouldn’t hand a precious infant to just anyone, you shouldn’t share your art carelessly. Your new work deserves to be held by people who will respect it, honor it, and truly see it. Mothering your art means protecting it in its most vulnerable stages and being thoughtful about how and when you release it into the world.
2. Letting Go Is Part of the Process
One of the hardest parts of mothering is allowing space for a child to grow. That moment when a young person—or your most cherished idea—needs to leave the nest. You’ve shaped it, poured yourself into it, but now it needs air.
This doesn’t mean you stop loving what you’ve created. It means you respect its growth. You understand that, to become what it’s meant to be, your art has to breathe, evolve, and be seen outside of your personal lens. Mothering your art means knowing when to step back and let it stand on its own.
3. Your Creation Has Its Own Life—Honor That
Eventually, what you’ve made will have a life beyond you. Just as a grown child walks into the world with their own ideas and choices, your art will be interpreted, critiqued, celebrated—or maybe misunderstood—by others. That’s part of the deal.
Mothering your art means accepting that it’s no longer just yours. And that’s a beautiful thing. It means it’s alive. It means it’s doing what it was meant to do: move people, make them think, challenge them, or simply offer a moment of truth.
Not everyone who creates is a mother in the traditional sense, but mothering is a verb, a way of being in relationship with what we care about. When we approach our creativity with intention, patience, and deep respect, we’re practicing a kind of mothering that the world deeply needs.
So this Mother’s Day, take a moment to honor the ways you mother your art. It’s not just about what you make, but how you care for it along the way.
