Good thing you’ve lost the ability to give any and all fucks before having a kid, because life has dropped an anvil on you and your functioning in this world with a child would have otherwise been completely impossible.
So how do you go about making art, the only catharsis you’ve even had?
When I was younger and less aware that other people in the world besides myself existed, and my brain started going haywire, I used to lock myself away in the dark and fly through my music collection until I found what spoke to (or for) me the most. Then I would listen to it on repeat until my ears were on the verge of bleeding. I would do this for weeks on end until I could paint about the situation or forget about it.
As a single mother living with family, I really have no way of doing this. So, as a functioning adult, I make-do when life gets me down. Currently “Easily” is on repeat in the car, blowing out speakers at home when my family is out, blasting from my phone during my pre-opening and post-closing work duties, and when I’m out Ingressing I sing that shit over and over again to myself in the backseat of someone else’s car.
Whenever I need time to myself is the best time to actually include my child in the making of the art. For example, yesterday I came home with a nice 5′ x 5′ piece of cardboard from a work delivery and dropped it down in front of him with a fresh box of crayons as I fired up my soldering iron to try and wood-burn the fuck out of a wolf.
I realized that a few people in particular may mistake the nature of my most recent piece as about them (which is understandable because I do shit like that). So I laid off of the complete A-Z, but normally one would see every. god. dammned. step of this shit until completion. Both for the sake of accountability and for feedback.
Often times a sketch pad or a woodboard or freaking-the-fuck-out isn’t someone you can do. So, get out some paper and journal. Free-flow your thoughts onto paper, make flow charts. Do it at dinner, on work breaks, while having discussions with your mother about where you’re going to get the money for a new car. My mini-sketch book is full of non-sensical gibberish that only myself could understand. Mostly quotes from “Easily”, though.
“Throw me to the wolves because there’s order in the pack, throw me to the sky because I know I’m coming back.”
“The story of a woman on the morning of a war, remind me, if you will, exactly what we’re fighting for.”
“Calling, calling for something in the air. Calling, calling I know you must be there.”