Womankind – August 2019

100100

WOMANKIND’S

Art Challenge

Womankind readers embarked on a challenge to practise art

for five minutes a day. Here is what happened.

WOMANKIND’S ART CHALLENGE

by 8am, teach eight to nine classes,

come home to my cello studio, and

teach three to four lessons. Before

my mum passed away, she said, “Al-

ice, you can’t keep this up. You’re

burning the candle at both ends.”

That was over ten years ago, and I

still hear her echoing in my mind,

“Alice, slow down. Find balance.”

I understand, but I’m also trying to

survive and make a living. So, I burn

the candle at both ends to make sure

I have a roof over my head and food

in my belly. Every morning before

school I look at the note I wrote to

myself on the wall and I tell myself,

“Just wait until the weekend, you’ll

have time.” And, I never do. So,

here we go. Five minutes a day. Put

paintbrush to canvas, pen to paper,

bow to string. But, mostly, paint-

brush to canvas.

Day two: As I sit down at the

kitchen table and mentally prepare

myself for a limited time with my

art, my eyes focus on a photograph

that is propped up against a jar of

paintbrushes. It’s an old black and

white photo of my mum, standing

in a garden, posing with one of her

dogs. I start to think of the legacies

mothers leave their daughters in

terms of habits and thought process-

es, both positive and negative. I saw

her daily struggle to carve out time

for her writing. When I was little,

the soundscape to my childhood was

her electric typewriter humming and

clacking away, melting into the dai-

ly rhythms of our lives. Later, when

I was a teenager, the typewriter was

unplugged, dustcover patiently col-

lecting dust. And years later it dis-

appeared as her life gave way to sur-

viving the daily realities of having a

family and a career. What inherited

thought processes do I want to nour-

ish? The thoughts my mum had when

she was young and hopeful of becom-

ing a writer, or the thoughts she had

when life had worn her down and

she was just trying to survive? What

would she say now if she were sitting

at this table with me? I take one last

glance at her photo and begin to pull

dusty paints from the shelves.

Alice Badgley

Day one: At the beginning of

the school year I wrote on the wall

above my kitchen table, “Put paint-

brush to canvas, pen to paper, bow

to string.” This was meant to be a re-

minder to spend time doing what re-

plenishes me. I’m an elementary mu-

sic teacher and, I’m not going to lie,

these past few years have knocked

me sideways. I’ve been teaching

since 2004, and the job has become

more emotionally demanding and

time consuming. So, I started off this

school year promising myself to focus

on self-care through playing my cel-

lo, painting, and writing. My daily

schedule looks like this: be at school

100 Womankind Community

WOMANKIND’S

Art Challenge

Womankindreadersembarkedon a challengeto practise art

for fiveminutesa day.Hereis whathappened.

WOMANKIND’S ART CHALLENGE

by 8am, teach eight to nine classes,

come home to my cello studio, and

teach three to four lessons. Before

my mum passed away, she said, “Al-

ice, you can’t keep this up. You’re

burning the candle at both ends.”

That was over ten years ago, and I

still hear her echoing in my mind,

“Alice, slow down. Find balance.”

I understand, but I’m also trying to

survive and make a living. So, I burn

the candle at both ends to make sure

I have a roof over my head and food

in my belly. Every morning before

school I look at the note I wrote to

myself on the wall and I tell myself,

“Just wait until the weekend, you’ll

have time.” And, I never do. So,

here we go. Five minutes a day. Put

paintbrush to canvas, pen to paper,

bow to string. But, mostly, paint-

brush to canvas.

Day two: As I sit down at the

kitchen table and mentally prepare

myself for a limited time with my

art, my eyes focus on a photograph

that is propped up against a jar of

paintbrushes. It’s an old black and

white photo of my mum, standing

in a garden, posing with one of her

dogs. I start to think of the legacies

mothers leave their daughters in

terms of habits and thought process-

es, both positive and negative. I saw

her daily struggle to carve out time

for her writing. When I was little,

the soundscape to my childhood was

her electric typewriter humming and

clacking away, melting into the dai-

ly rhythms of our lives. Later, when

I was a teenager, the typewriter was

unplugged, dustcover patiently col-

lecting dust. And years later it dis-

appeared as her life gave way to sur-

viving the daily realities of having a

family and a career. What inherited

thought processes do I want to nour-

ish? The thoughts my mum had when

she was young and hopeful of becom-

ing a writer, or the thoughts she had

when life had worn her down and

she was just trying to survive? What

would she say now if she were sitting

at this table with me? I take one last

glance at her photo and begin to pull

dusty paints from the shelves.

Alice Badgley

Day one: At the beginning of
the school year I wrote on the wall
above my kitchen table, “Put paint-
brush to canvas, pen to paper, bow
to string.” This was meant to be a re-
minder to spend time doing what re-
plenishes me. I’m an elementary mu-
sic teacher and, I’m not going to lie,
these past few years have knocked
me sideways. I’ve been teaching
since 2004, and the job has become
more emotionally demanding and
time consuming. So, I started off this
school year promising myself to focus
on self-care through playing my cel-
lo, painting, and writing. My daily
schedule looks like this: be at school

Womankind Community