An open letter to the creative mothers //
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Hello to the mother who has worlds inside of her
The mother
The mystic
The maker
The motherland that holds art for the world.
In all its forms. From a pen to the page,
Or a painted display,
Though, the mother maker doesn’t just exist within the traditional creative forms.
The modern mother maker is also the entrepreneurial mother who crafts carefully, the courses she makes, the journeys for her clients, cultivating experiences for others is a fine art.
It’s the home maker mother- who is creative in her rhythm, the way she moves with her children, the way she exists within the vortex of her home and spins it into a holding place for thriving.
The mother maker is for the photographers, the dancers, the podcasters, the poets, the writers,
the magic makers and spirit shakers.
The intuitives, the feelers, the jewellery crafters,
music channellers
and joy masters.
Mother maker is simply the epithet for the mother whose life reflects the creative nature of her heart. Where she moves from head… to art.
Through her perspectives, and the way she pours herself into this world.
It’s for the mother who’s dancing her own rhythm between her children and her creative processes.
This, is for you.
Dear Mother Maker.
I see you.
I really do.
I know all too well the ache in our bodies when the stagnancy creeps in. The tension. The often unwelcomed twin sister to creativity.
I know that the pregnant pause that can come, When a child is at our feet, asking for their mum.
I see you in the bubbling frustration laced in guilt because you can taste but not quite grasp the time you need away from your children- to make what you want to make.
Or when you do, the energy and focus doesn’t arrive with you.
I see you, In your creative death cycles. The creative death AND rebirth cycles.
I see you when it feels like your spark wont come back, and I see you when it feels like theres too much spark to hold and seed evenly through your life.
I see you attempting to create with your children. You know the value of a creative life, you want to lead by example and show them that mama has her passions too. That you can do them together.
Though we know all too well, that it’s just not the same as the meditative state, tension release and big breathe out you arrive at when it’s just you- just you, and your art.
I see you, wondering when the clarity will come.
Between a blurry mind, and sleep that needs catching up on, and a shower to be had. The shower. That’s it. That’s where the ideas come clean. Though before they can be written down, you’re making dinner for tiny feet and reading a million stories other than your own.
I see you up, late at night, holding tenderly in your hands those quiet hours. Just for you. But the motherload whispers.
These hours…Just for you… And your lover…. And your home that needs a reset.
Those quiet hours… for you… and the children that may wake…and for a meal that needs cooking.
The quiet hours, for you…and not just one project of creativity calling for your presence, but two, or three, and which one to do first?
I understand the lack of trust in the capacity for consistency.
The “which project am I both excited about, AND have the energy to see through? Which one fits into this season of my life?”
I see you, grieving your pre-motherhood self.
I see you, negotiating with your creative process.
Tell me- where should I put my energy? My time? My resources? What will reward my heart the most?
I see you, negotiating with your children.
Tell me- when can mama have a moment? Not for the home, or work, or love. Just for my heart? Just for relieving this tension inside? When do we play? When do I mother? When do I create?
I see you in the whiplash that comes from walking into motherhood from a creative metal space or walking into the creative space from the motherland.
The fatigue of the dance can weigh heavy.
The fatigue of caring so much, about so many aspects of our lives.
The fatigue of not wanting to settle for a single facet of our multifaceted selves.
I see the worlds and visions swirling within you, and the fear that maybe, they’ll only ever circulate the inner ethers of your mind rather than be called into reality.
I see you grieving Ideas now lost, in times that passed by without any extra space.
I see you, grieving little hands becoming bigger, and wondering - how can I take this all in, AND make what I want to make? Can I do both? Both well?
I see you, under a baby, noticing where the other makers, the other mothers, are in a creative happenings.
Do I sooth the baby in sacrifice of soothing my soul? Am I really “here”… if my mind is elsewhere
I see you in the “how the fuck do THEY do it”. When you forget to honour your seasons of slow and your seasons of pace. When you forget the seed will inevitably become the flower in the first place. Maybe you’re underground gestating. Maybe in full bloom.
I see you, tapping away in the notes of your phone as the blue lights up your face, and your thumbs have their dance. Doing your best to make a safe place for these ideas to land and hold them close for a better time.
I see you… wondering if it’s childplay to pursue the arts… or if it’s a valid way to spend time. Is it worth it. Do my family understand? That it’s just as important as eating…
I see you, wondering how you’ll find the resources, to make the things you TRULY want to make. If time and money were no limit to your creative heart. If only.
I see you, finding your harmony between making for arts sake, making in the name of self healing or exploring your creative process. Making. Just for you.
Then the calling of making, with a fair exchange of resources. Learning to value the role art plays in society, and that it’s a worthy gift of exchange too. Combating the starving artist.
Pay me.
The starving mother.
Pay me.
Can business and art co-exist? Do they cancel each other out?
Does business suck the authenticity out of our craft?
Or enhance it?
How do we exist in a capitalist culture- with heart.
Learn the rules, play the game, refine the rules & change the game.
I see you, parenting your littles, and reparenting yourself through your creative process. You are enough. You are patient. Honest. You remind yourself to stay gentle, you are mothering, and loving and crafting.
It’s a lot.
Maybe you’r holding space for others, clients, family, friends. Holding space for your self to bloom privately, or publicly…
Pace gently. Stay present.
Mother Maker I see your genius mind. The way you pull together timelines down through other dimensions into reality.
I see the way you love your children fiercely. I see how you do this, for both you, and for them.
Mother Maker, Harmony can exist here.
The separation
Of Mother
Then Maker
Doesn’t have to be your story too.
I promise you They can exist and pulse as one. They can feed each other Not take from each other.
For the mother waiting for the spark to return. I promise you, it will. Honour the season.
For the mother in full creative flow - follow the season.
The nature of creativity is wildness.
Structure may hold it, but it never becomes it. So Let it be wild, and held, just gently. Notice all the ways you attempt to tame the surges.
Notice the ways we attempt to control.
I’m ready for an idea. Now.
I’m ready to mother. Now.
I’m ready to have career success. Now.
I’m ready to be seen. Now.
I want my best idea yet. Now.
Notice we don’t exist on societies timeline
when we are a creative.
We have to learn to dance.
Out of the head, Back into the body. Back into play, back to love.
What’s meant for us won’t miss us, and that needs to be our breath out as mothers. More often than not, our children, our family and home will need us more than we need ourselves.
Though we hold our grip tight, and sometimes wish it was a little different… That our baby was a little more independent. That we had someone to clean the home so we had more space to make. That the idea didn’t hijack our 3am breastfeed and now we need a coffee to get through the day… It’s in the letting go,
The honest surrender
We can trust our slowness here.
We can trust our inner pulse. The contraction. The expansion. The space between breaths.
We can trust our subtleties here.
Back into the life existing in front of our eyes and not just behind them.
THAT acts as a muse.
It’s our children that fill a place within us that is only for them to fill. Moments of ecstasy at dance behind our eyes are the squeals and joys of theirs from our day.
So though we so need the pause between breaths. We need the breath itself to breathe life into our art as mothers.
Mother and maker can coexist.
It’s up to us To craft a new story. That’s what we do? Right? We craft new realities from nothing.
We create humans from scratch with their own consciousness and birth them into the world like bubbles.
We tell stories.
It’s what we do.
So why not craft a story where we thrive as mother creatives.
A story where our children fuel us and we drop into presence with them easily.
Our creative pursuits are ones that nourish the ecosystem of our families.
Our ideas understand the importance of harmony. They want that for us. We can request and receive it.
We welcome art for arts sake, and happily enjoy the experience of making. We allow our creations to move us.
Then If it’s right, We welcome resources in exchange for our art.
We make new worlds with our creations,
So why not let them make a new world for us.
A world of ease
Clarity
Romance
Gentleness
weaving itself through mothering and our art,
Many threads create the tapestry.
What if
These realities could only embrace you
When you honour the path of merging the archetypes of the mother,
the mystic and,
the maker.
Mother maker I see you
We need your art
And your mother heart.
Thank you For finding your balance
For every stumble
Trip
Or fall
The world is more colourful
For us all.
We are all are in it together
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This community here is building. Thousands of Mother Makers are joining this holding space for creative expression and connection to others on the same journey.
MOTHER MAKER CAULDRON
Every alternating Sunday, the cauldron is released. A free mashup of celebrating mother makers - and their offerings to the community. A community service so to speak. Offering a window into a beautiful tapestry of women. I’ll share who I’m enjoying and what they make, and how you can be involved with their creations AND I’ll share some of the writers I’m enjoying here on substack too.
The Mother Maker Cauldron is available for FREE for all subscribers to the Kat River newsletter.
SUNDAYS ARE FOR MOTHERS
Every second SUNDAY the interview series “Sundays are for mothers” is released. These are wholesome real conversations about the behind the scenes of various mother makers in the community. From authors to musicians, photographers, business women, home makers. We explore how they make and mother - in real life.
Sundays are for mothers is exclusive to the Paid Mother Maker community here on Kat River.
MOTHER MAKER WORKSHOPS
Moving forward, the vision is for *monthly online workshops or events - Hosted by zoom.
These will cover a range of topics from intuitive creativity, Storytelling workshops, spoken word workshops, Social media workshops, online watercolour workshops, private performances from mother musicians, business conversations and online spoken word poetry nights.
These will be available for EVERYONE both free community members and paid subsribers members however those who are paid subscribers for Kat River will have access to heavily discounted ticketed events, and specific VIP perks.
*Events are TBA with a pinned calendar schedule on
*Coming Soon*Those apart of the paid subscriber community here also receive 1x Essay from Kat each week in their inbox, and a Guest Post monthly.
Every word. Every drop. Drinking it all in and with such sweet relief that I’m seen. Thank you xxxx
What a nourishing read. Some super healthy and heart-hugging reminders for me in there xx