This is the last ‘little window’ in this summer series. Back in the humid days of July I gathered together a collection of objects and ideas that provided little glimpses into other lives, other places, other ideas - things that take me further into and/or beyond where I currently find myself.
In truth, these posts were the only tangible ‘creative’ activity I found time and space for throughout the summer.
But that’s not quite the truth of it.
There is nothing as creative or as agile as a tired care-giver who needs to find a new way to engage/ distract/ comfort/ entertain small children. Everything we’ve done together in the last six weeks is testament to my creativity, tenacity and imagination, right down to the last, overtired bath and bedtime. And in all that time, I’ve been composting new ideas that will hopefully take shape in the autumn.
And though it feels too soon to close the chapter on summer, I’m currently wearing thick wool socks with my shorts and a pot of hot chili is on the hob. Autumn is making itself known and the evening chill is forcing me to reflect on what I might harvest from the previous seasons and what will sustain me through the winter.
The Chinese calendar acknowledges this period of not-quite summer, not-yet autumn: Long or Late Summer. It’s a fifth season which encompasses the weeks between mid-August and the late September Equinox. Associated with the Earth, it is a time of grounding and re-rooting oneself in the last gasp of sun and warmth.
As I was thinking about art works that might illustrate this season, I remembered the artist Chen Shu, who I was introduced to by a student whose dissertation I supervised some years ago.
Chen Shu was born in 1660 into a liberal elite family and was encouraged in her artistic education. She went onto to become one of the few women in premodern China to become a well-known artist.
Famous in her own right, she was also the mother of Qing statesman and poet Qian Chenqun., who she raised her son alone, after the early death of her husband.
I think about how Chen Shu painted flowers and animals from life, about how her landscapes were referenced from works by male painters, given that she - as a woman - was unable to travel to herself. I think of her nurturing her creativity alongside nurturing her son. I think if how her paintings invite us to notice, to telescope in on the details.
When her son - who excelled in his education - joined the the court of the Qianlong Emperor, he introduced the emperor to his mother’s paintings. And so, Chen Shu’s works joined the Imperial Collection.
Qian Chenqun also wrote his mother’s biography after her death. The text focuses on her skills as a mother and a teacher - skills society at the time deemed superior to a woman’s intellectual or creative pursuits. But we also know her creative work too.
That we know her name is, therefore, due to both her art and her motherhood entwined.
Entwined: Art and Motherhood
Becoming a parent changed my own approach to creativity. I was surprised by just how my brain fizzed with ideas in the immediate postpartum weeks. Even though I lacked the time and space to commit to anything, it definitely felt like I’d been rewired somehow. I was also less afraid and more willing to take risks.
And I’m not alone.
The idea of an anthology exploring art and motherhood started to form when Sarah Shotts was 7 months postpartum. She writes about the process of producing several publications on the topic in this post.
The result is Entwined - an anthology that weaves together stories of creativity and motherhood - and Ember, an art journal full of prompts (writing, observation, ideating, dreaming, and making) curated to help mothers to kindle their creative sparks.
I was delighted when my own piece on my postpartum journey into writing was accepted and I join contributors from over 50 other (m)others incuding Autumn Fox, Hayley J. Dunlop, Genevieve Beech and Lucy Beckley.
Every mother has their own creative ecosystem. By sharing our stories we hope to inspire you to entwine creativity and motherhood in your own way.
You can support the project by preordering a copy, donating a copy, and/or sharing on social media.
💚💚💚
So beautiful Joanna. We are in that fifth season as well. It’s a relief after the intense summer heat, but it’s not autumn yet.
There are so many lovely rabbit holes here to explore. I’ll definitely be looking into Chinese seasons and Chen Shu’s work and life.