The World Needs Art Now More Than Ever

Especially from mothers

Nov 08, 2024

I’m still spinning from the election. You too? I’m confused, hurt, scared, and deeply tired. Here’s what I do know:

The world needs more art—especially from mothers.

Art is so much more than the pretty pictures we stroll by in museums. It’s in times of crisis that we turn to poetry, song, and dance to express the unspeakable. (I promise this improvised choir will give you goosebumps.) In its most powerful form, art can connect and provoke us. It can reveal layers under a silent exterior. It can spark social movements and inspire revolutions that unfold quietly or breathtakingly quickly. Thirty years ago, when the AIDS Memorial Quilt was displayed in Washington D.C. it raised awareness and prompted real change in public policy. People continue to add panels to it today. In 2021, Alexandria Ocasia Cortez wore a gown with “Tax the Rich” scrawled on the back to The Met Gala. The dress prompted conversations about class and wealth in the most public of settings. Here on Substack,

Beth Spencer

led an anti-AI movement by encouraging the artists in her community to draw a “Created with Human Intelligence” badge in their own style. The images they created made it clear that humans bring something unique and important to the art they make.

Protest art is designed to prompt viewers to take action in a clear direct way. But all art, whether intentionally or not, reflects the values of the artist who made it. Even the most entertaining movies can have stories of resilience and pride tucked inside. In children’s books, this can look like The Spiffiest Giant in Town being so kind that he gives away all his clothes. Does he look foolish? Of course. But at the end of the story, he’s surrounded by the friends he made along the way. Even Julia Donaldson’s silliest books are about community and kindness. As Jessica Love, the author of Julián Is a Mermaid says, “It’s important to have stories that are a portal into the world as we wish it to be.”

Creativity is a joyful act of resistance.

While we want our work to reflect our values, and those may include responsibility, truth, and justice, they also include joy, light, and imagination. Furthermore, we don’t just want to share our joy. We need to protect our joy, for it is joy that sustains our activism. We must find ways to laugh. If we want to make a difference, we must celebrate and welcome pleasure into our lives. It makes us alive to this world and helps us keep going when darkness descends.

Artists talk of finding their voices, as though they’ve been lost. Some mothers do too, because becoming a mother isn’t just about learning how to hold a child. It’s about figuring out how to be a family, learning what our children need, and finding who we want to be in the hours we’re not with our kids. We must tap into our imagination to see what’s possible and listen to our inner wisdom to know what’s needed. Then we can share that vision with the world.

The creativity we use in parenting zaps our energy and inspires new work. Having children is intensely draining and deeply enriching. It adds texture, emotion, and new landscapes to our daily life. Anything that helps us grow wiser, must enrich our work. How can that not include motherhood? My creativity was born long before my son, but my imagination, point of view, voice, and vision feel sharper and stronger since I became a mother. Honoring my vision feels urgent now. More than ever, I find myself thinking “I have something to say!” And I hope you do too.

Some days it can feel like there’s a ceiling, wide and heavy, saying “Shh. No more for you.” Making art is a way to build our own ladders and climb onto the roof. It lets us set the agenda. It lets us whisper and shout, “The domestic is essential. Our economy runs on care. There is nothing more important than being with each other. Beauty matters, seasons change, small wins are important, loss is real, and we are here to witness it.” Mothers know how much it hurts to love. They understand loss on a visceral level. They care for ghosts who never landed on Earth, free spirits who sleep upside down, and wild monkeys who can’t be trusted with a banana in the living room. We make something out of nothing, and it’s essential we share the wisdom that comes with that work.

Our wisdom is meant to be shared.

I want to hear from the mothers who struggle and the ones who laugh easily, the mothers with weird passions and the ones who lead their children down a more peaceful path than the last generation. I want their stories, their poems, their masterpieces. I want to see their imaginations wrangle new ideas. Whatever stage you’re at in life, I hope you’ll share your wisdom.

Thank you for being here!

In the 1970s, Mierle Laderman Ukeles developed what she called maintenance art. She made the labor she did as a mother and as a woman visible. She treated it like it was important, cataloging, experimenting, and sharing. Through those efforts she transformed the mundane undervalued work that we all do into something beautiful. She elevated caretaking to the same level as art making, whether the care is done by a mother tending to a child, a human repairing damage done to the earth, or a citizen working at the sanitation department.

I truly believe the way you care for the people you love is art. The way you show up every day believing we can do better is art. The way you share your stories with friends and strangers is art. The way you protect your values is art. The way you tend to your own heart, even when it’s broken, is art.

Knowing you are somewhere out there, living true to your values and sharing your vision with your community makes me feel more hopeful. Making art can be therapeutic for us and the world. Please don’t stop. I’m deep in it with you, muddling through, resolving to stay hopeful, and making art with my son, for myself, and for you whenever I can.

Let’s get loud.

Let’s invite in new voices.

Let’s be colorful.

Let’s take up space.

Let’s dance in the streets.

Let’s write stories for our children.

Let’s cheer each other on.

Let’s make art.

I would love to hear what art is bringing you comfort and joy right now. Please sure in the comments so we can savor it together.

Heidi

Nebula Notebook is a place to meet kindred spirits, get inspired, and learn how to find ease and joy in the creative process—even when life is bananas. 🍌🍌🍌

✏️ PS—The fastest way to grow as a writer is to book a manuscript critique or a creative coaching session with an expert. My clients get agents, sell books, and win awards. They also learn how to enjoy the creative process, so they can keep going when life gets hard. 👏