If you’re like me, you’re tottering on your kitten heels in the run-up to Christmas. In addition to being an artist and teacher, I’m a wife, mother and grandmother. I wouldn’t have it any other way, but there are times when the daily grind wears me out.
I haven’t painted this little since 2000, when I had my first cancer. These things are cyclical, and it happens to be one of those years. I’m not alone, of course. Modern women juggle family, work, holidays, logistics and expectations, often beautifully and frequently invisibly. I asked a student recently if she’s been painting. “No,” she said, and then rattled off a list of responsibilities that would daunt anyone.
If you’re like me, you need strategies, not someone nattering at you to paint.
Reframe painting as self-care, not as a luxury
Women are conditioned to see creativity as optional, something we earn after everything else is done. That’s why so many women can’t paint until their housework is finished. But painting isn’t indulgence; it’s mental health care and self-definition. Making that shift in thinking helps more than any number of planning apps.
Steal moments
When I don’t have time to paint, I can still draw. That’s why I carry a sketchbook with me. I may only have fifteen or twenty minutes while waiting for an appointment, but I can still think visually. Some ideas:
- Sketch during kids’ naps, homework, or sports;
- Do color studies while dinner simmers;
- Leave a small gouache or watercolor kit open on the table.
Establish some protected time
Caregivers are always on call. But you can establish some protected time without feeling guilty about it. Whether that’s thirty minutes after supper or before you leave for work in the morning, everyone deserves some time to themselves. Remember to communicate that, so that everyone knows you’re serious.
Create workflow systems that reduce friction
The easier it is to start, the more you’ll paint. Some ideas:
- A permanent workspace, even if it’s a corner of a table. I painted in a corner of my kitchen when my kids were little;
- A travel box with everything ready to go;
- Watercolor or gouache instead of oils or pastels. The set-up and cleanup is faster.
Involve the people you care for
My kids not only spent lots of time at the kitchen table drawing, they were free to comment on my work. Today they (and my husband) are among my most trusted critics.
Make sketching part of family outings. I painted and drew with my father when I was very young. I not only learned to paint, I learned to respect the process of art.
Be willing to outsource tasks
The German artist Käthe Kollwitz defied the norms of her time by insisting on domestic help so she could work as a full-time artist, before she agreed to marry and have children. Like many women, I resisted hiring help when my kids were young. I regret that. A few years ago, I hired a cleaner. It’s the best value for money in my budget.
Say yes to workshops, because they create space you can’t at home
A workshop isn’t just instruction; it’s sanctioned art time. Students tell me workshops reset their creative lives because they:
- Give permission to focus;
- Provide uninterrupted hours to work;
- Rekindle identity;
- Build community.
It’s the ‘paint first, responsibilities later’ experience many women never get at home.
Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot:
- Canyon Color for the Painter | Sedona, AZ, March 9-13, 2026
- Advanced Plein Air Painting | Rockport, ME, July 13-17, 2026
- Sea & Sky | Acadia National Park, ME, August 2–7, 2026
- Find your Authentic Voice in Plein Air | Berkshires, MA, August 10-14, 2026
- New! Color Clinic 2026 | Rockport, ME, October 3-4, 2026
- New! Composition Week 2026 | Rockport, ME, October 5-9, 2026
Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:
Thanks Carol for this post. I may not be flying around balancing a career or raising small children now but my husband and I are in crisis with one of our children. We are on our early 70s. Its a very scary, emotionally and financially draining family upset we are navigating. I’m sorry to sound so mysterious but it’s too much to explain and devastating to keep recounting. But to get to the matter of why I am writing- I am frozen creatively. I’m depressed and feel somewhat mentally paralyzed. My mind is just consumed with the life we are forced to live right now. Every time I think of painting I find reasons not to whether conscience or not and I know how I feel about myself in general always feels more calm and centered if I paint and create. I am having a heck of a time so I hope this post applies to someone like me. Seems to but differently. I want you to know I so enjoyed meeting you and learning more with my pastels in Saranac Lake at the Vic three years ago in August. Since then I have gone back to watercolor and gouache more than pastels. Those are more to my liking. But at this point I wish I would enjoy doing anything artistically. I can’t seem to get out of this funk. Ugh~
Thanks so much Carol and Merry Christmas Carol to you and your family 🎄🦌💕
I so relate to what you’re going through.
I am so very sorry to hear this.
If you can tuck a sketchbook in your purse and just doodle, you may find that frees you up. Give yourself permission to take baby steps until you get back on track, personally and artistically. Meanwhile, I’m praying that your situation resolves itself soon.
This year I’m dealing with the imposition of too many responsibilities and the stress of having no control over them. A chunk of it, of course, is my own doing, but altogether too much has to do with other people’s issues affecting my time, energy and ability to get things done. It has me seriously considering how to go forward. My most productive painting period was during the pandemic shutdown. And while I obviously don’t want to go back to that, I need to find a way to divest myself of some of the stress-producers and time-wasters so I can devote more energy to my painting.
My friend, that is a woman’s lot in life, isn’t it? I hate to be cynical, but it’s how society rolls, and it hasn’t changed for eons.
Doug told me that after I had cancer I never did anything I didn’t want to do. That’s not entirely true; I still pay the bills and do our taxes, for example, but it’s true of a lot of things. Realizing that your time is finite means that you stop letting people impose their make-work on you. For me, that meant curing myself of the volunteering habit. I’ve done my time.
I am thinking very seriously of dropping one volunteer job altogether, and I have already taken a stand to not expand my responsibilities at a second volunteer job.
I pray for peace for all of you. Life is hard and doesn’t seem to get easier no matter how old you are.
Dear Elizabeth, my heart goes out to you. I can relate to the fact that reality can be different from what you expected. And, group, coming off two days and nights and…of stewarding grandkids, you will understand my frustration every time I pass two little oils (partly done and now dry) that I thought would be done by today.
I totally agree with the “little steps” approach. Over the last year or so, I have adopted a small goals approach when pressed for time—prep that board so it’s dry when I want to do the grisaille, put in the moon on that nocturne, get the angle of the shoulder right on that figure in the chair, add highlights on the vegetation… I often have a list of several for a session. Sometimes I look at the clock and decide I can do just one. Even one always leaves me with a small sense of accomplishment.
Life!
Wonderful post! Thank you! For so many of us, particularly women, this conundrum rings true. Particularly the part about a house cleaner. As you know, my husband is going through chemo, we need to move because the altitude is too high for him, and I’d be lying if I said taking over the doing of everything was working, let alone working fine.
One thing I’d add: put your artwork up, very visible, all over the house…have your artistic soul speak back to you, even simply as you move about the house. Gave me a real jolt, refocused me.
The other thing is to forgive yourself if you’re stumbling right now.
Again, thank you for naming and exposing the elephant in the room.
Gwen, in the face of awful adversity, you have some good suggestions there. Thank you.
This post inspired me to pick up my H2O brush and tiny palette. I just moved my hands in a painterly motion to see what colors would do. It was fun, inspiring and put me in a better place–lack of guilt for not painting more often!
I am an emotional caretaker to a senior and I am learning to find space to create in her company instead of my isolated basement office/studio. My plein air tools are meant to travel, even within my home!
Balance is tough, but if sought, possible. Not perfectly, but progressively. Can’t wait for workshops to start again in Jan!
I’m so glad it helped, Linda. And I too can’t wait to start classes again!