The other day I asked members of the MakeBigArt Community the following question:
Were your parents/caregivers artists or creatives or makers? Did you grow up creating along side either of them? Do you have a favorite memory making with them?
It’s taken me quite some time to answer because I managed to hurt my hand and typing became a bit impossible.
In the meantime I enjoyed reading their responses and memories. And the more I thought- the more memories that came flooding back.
So now that I can finally type again – my answer got fairly long. And so I am also sharing my answer here. For you to enjoy – and the reflect upon your own creative heritage (if you had one – if not – you are not alone.)
My Mom
She was forever making something and trying something new. She worked full time as a nurse and did the 60-70’s raise the family female thing – and still she found time to hand make things every year for christmas presents for the whole family. For years it was decoupage – she’d cut out images from magazines or cards and glue them to things (like jewelry boxes or just boards) and then varnish them. Layers and layers of varnish.
It took months to go through the whole process. In between coats the pieces would sit inside a closet in the hallway to our bedrooms. It was a ritual to carry the items out of the closet and into the kitchen.
She was dedicated as she never had a space of her own for this projects and always had to set up and take down after each session. It definitely inspired me to always carve out a space for my work as a priority for any home I’ve lived in since I graduated from university.
My mom didn’t just make – she also encouraged her kids to join in. And I know I was frequently by her side working on my own project – macrame, embroidery, candle and making, some sewing (although I resisted this until she moved away when I was in 10th grade).
She was the kind of mom that let us just make whatever we wanted. I don’t ever remember her saying it wasn’t the “right way” to do something. (although I do remember arguing with her about sewing – there were definitely a lot of rules about using a sewing machine and following patterns to make clothes – and I was not a fan.)
One of my memories is making our valentine cards. I grew up back in the day where every kid was supposed to come to school with a valentine for each kid in the class. My mom would pile heaps of art supplies on the table and we would then be required to glue and cut and decorate each and every one. It became a chore and I recall the joy the years we were allowed to use the store bought ones. So much faster. Although today I can really appreciate the effort and patience my mom displayed in giving us this opportunity.
When my kids were young we had a craft period during the playgroup I participated in with a group of mom friends. On holidays – we would bring in a bunch of construction paper and decorations and let the kids make things. For gifts or house decorations, etc. These thing usually followed a format where we would pre-cut the basic shapes like hearts or reindeer and then the kids would decorate.
I still have my favorite decoration from those days – a big reindeer my son made from the scraps. He completely ignored all the pre-made things. I’ve always viewed that as a sign of one of the things I did right as a mom.
My kids were allowed to make tremendous messes in our unfinished basements. I gave them a heap of craft supplies and just let them go to town unsupervised. One of their favorite projects was putting paint on things and throwing them cross the room. The people that bought that house probably wondered why the basement floor and walls were covered in colorful random paint splotches.
Later in life my mom took up crafting more seriously and made and sold items at craft fairs. She started doing a bit of water color and finally finally – I got her into quilting sometime in the 90s. We did a couple of traditional quilts together.
My Dad
He was an engineer by day – and a maker of pretty much anything else on his own time. He had a woodshop in the garage and was forever in the middle of some sort of home improvement project. I was less enamored with the big loud saws so I didn’t spend as much time making with him and I did my mom. But we built a treehouse up at our cabin with our dad. And I know I hand sawed and hammered together all sorts of rather useless objects under his guidance.
I remember a childhood friend having a hair eating drill experience with her father. And maybe that is why I was never too excited to go near the power tools.
One of my favorite memories of my dad creating was him rebuilding the player piano that my grandparents owned. While not so much a creative project (a piano was a piano) – it was a huge year long project with him rebuilding each and every bellow one at a time. The piano only played if we peddle it – no electric component. It is the piano I learned to play one. And the one my son learned to play on. It was completely out of tune, which worked fine for me as I couldn’t care a tune if I tried.
My dad built a greenhouse on his house (and then tore it down because it made the house too hot) after he had the house to himself. Very frequently his projects had a bit of a scientific component to them. Always the engineer.
My Grandparents
Both of my grandmothers quilted. My dad’s mother made dolls – well into her 90s. The final quilt that my mom’s mother made was one she made with me. I showed up at her house with my 4 year old daughter, a pile of triangles I’d cut out and my sewing machine. She did the design and I did the sewing. My daughter had a tea party.
Both of my grandfathers were farmers. I don’t recall any creativity or making type activities from my dad’s father (who died before I graduated from high school) but my mom’s father loved his ponies. He had a couple of Shetland ponies and he would hitch them to his wagon and drive them in the local parades. They spend the afternoon giving kids rides around town. He was well known around the area for his love of those ponies. And as a result he ended up on stage with them in a local theater production – walking the horses across the stage.
I feel quite blessed to have grown up in an environment that not only encouraged, but also modeled, pursuing creative passions above and beyond the requirements of ones occupation.
PS – if you answer this question in your own blog, I’d love to read the answer. Please email me and send me the link! Remember back in the day when we had conversations via our blogs? I miss those days.