I decided to do a month-long online artists residency. It went as well as could be expected – here are my thoughts on the final day!
‘Working-class, Artist, Mother’ – Feels quite impossible.
‘Artist’ is a hard thing to do anyway, I won’t elaborate on that. It’s also well documented that the numbers of working-class people are decreasing in the arts.
You can argue the different reasons for this, but personally, I feel like it’s something to do with having no monetary safety net, combined with lack of network,
and reduced opportunities. The same (well, similar) things can be said for artists who are mothers. Time, money, network, accidental discrimination, and
sometimes just genuine discrimination.

Amazingly, some working-class artist mothers do exist, and WAM (Working-class Artist Mothers) is a group of them. I joined WAM as it started, the usual way I join most things, online. WAM as a collective is mostly an online group, as the artists are spread out across the UK – There’s a good amount of ‘whatsapping’ and ‘google meets’. At the moment, at least for now, WAM feels very much like a support group of artists whose goal is getting to know it’s members and the challenges they face.
Many of the members (not all) have older children, and I don’t think that’s a coincidence. I have a toddler, and there’s very little headspace to be had when you’re dealing with someone who would live inside your skin, if they possibly could. She doesn’t understand the word ‘no’, (or at least she pretends she doesn’t). She’s stolen my paints, she’s eaten my charcoal, and she’s harshly critiqued my drawing of a bird. I cannot work under these conditions.

I’m glad I joined WAM, if only for the confirmation that other people are similarly frustrated. In general, I’d pretty much given up on art, as I could not see a
way forward while my baby is young, but, impulsively, I did decide to take part in WAM’s current group spring/summer project: The Online Residency.

WAM offered the opportunity this spring to do an ‘online residency’, and what that seems to mean is taking over the group’s fledgling Instagram account for a
month, thinking up your own project, and posting whatever I felt like. I agreed to the month of May, which seemed ages away, surely, I’d have myself together enough by then to really make something interesting?
There are two group crits during the residency (via zoom call, naturally), and two artists per month are allowed to contribute two posts per week, and
unlimited Instagram stories.

Today, my residency is nearly over, and in some ways, it has been a disaster. In other ways it has forced me to reflect on what is actually possible in my current situation. And what I want to do with my practice, if anything.
What I’ve learnt:
1 – On reflection – I should probably give up my painting studio. There has been heavy implication from studio management that children shouldn’t be brought into the building, so I can’t take her in with me. That’s fair enough really, the studio I rent does not have facilities for children, it’s not family friendly and there’s no incentive for them to make it family friendly. Even though I’ve seen many artists there (parents and grandparents) sneaking children in so they can watch them while they work (don’t ask me who, I’m no snitch).
I can’t afford to pay for childcare just so I can go and paint something that may or may not make any money so… I think for the time being I need to scale back.

2 – Usually with a residency, you’d be residing somewhere else, the clue is in the name.
But I’m just still at home, I’m still in the same space, and I have to run a project simultaneously alongside my work/parent life.
In my experience, you get to the end of the day, you finish cleaning up whatever your toddler has pissed on today (the floor usually) and then you think: “oh
my fucking god, I have to do some art. I’m not doing anything big, I can’t be arsed, I like frogs, I’m going to draw a frog”.
This could charitably be called the ‘lean method’ towards artistic practice, really focussing on what you find interesting, or what you want to say. I should really write this up for LinkedIn – ‘What can you be arsed doing’ methodology.

3 – The visually imagery of my life has changed, so obviously my work will change. I feel like I’ve been in limbo since I had the baby – just sort of drifting fromone bizarre scenario to the next. The things I see everyday are not the same things I used to see. I’m bombarded with bright colours, annoying characters, dinosaurs, etc.
I’ve seen every kid’s film that has ever been made, and also, somehow ‘The Secret Life of Pets ’ fifty-six times.
My work is being drawn more towards the narrative, the story, the colourful.
My world is smaller now, so I’m more introspective. I wonder how my baby sees the world; I wonder how my baby sees me.
I draw a frog, the baby sees it, and she is delighted.

4 – I’m not ready to do this right now, and that’s fine. It’s all about timing, and I don’t have time today. Or tomorrow. Or this year.
I’ve been traumatised, the birth was difficult and I was hurt significantly. I know I’m traumatised, because if you ask me about it, then I’ll cry. That’s how I know.
I realise I don’t have to dedicate all my time to a big project, just coasting along and staying creative while I get through the current period of my life is fine. I don’t need an outcome, just a few pages in a sketchbook are a good outcome. I need to work on small projects that make me happy. Maybe I can use art to work through that trauma I mentioned.

5 – Finally, I need to be more organised. Oh, wow that’s an easy thing to say, lets see how we follow up on that.
I need to carve out space and time for myself to do creative things, which make me feel good, as a form of rest and play. If the house is a mess (it is) I don’t need to clean it before I can do some drawing – unless the drawing materials are under a pile of clothes, then yes, I need to move that.
I need to be stricter on reducing ‘dead time’ periods, like when I’m scrolling on my phone for an hour for no reason – I’m pretty sure this is a form of avoidance, an anaesthetic for
the feelings of being overwhelmed and stressed. It’s not helping though.
In conclusion: I didn’t make that many posts on the WAM Instagram. I did work on my project. I did enjoy some of the images I made. I did get to share how I make art. I did enjoy my group crit, where I talked a lot about what I’m doing and why I’m doing it. I do feel solidarity with other artist mothers more, having listened to other peoples group crits.
So was it worth doing an online residency? Yes, I think so. At least I have a lot of frog drawings now.





























