Creative Mothers -
On running businesses and raising children
Awards:
Finalist of the AOP Open Awards 2024
The British Journal of Photography Portrait of Humanity shortlist Vol.6
Finalist of the AOP Open Awards 2023
Shortlisted in the Portraits & People category of
The Photography Foundation Awards 2023 sponsored by Leica
Press:
Creative Boom | Darklight | AOP
Women photographed:
Alice Byrom, Alice Vincent, Amy Friend, Amy Gardner, Amy Ward (Bug), Aviya Wyse, Charlotte Jansen, Gala Botero, Lakwena, Laura von Behr, Lauren Wood, Laxmi Hussain, Liv Purvis, Maya Njie, Naomi Raybould, Ola O. Smit, Yemi Awosile, Zoe Chan
I had my daughter in June 2020. Everything has changed overnight: my body, my mind, my perception of time and my priorities. This project is about hearing and sharing stories and creating a community of like-minded women, uniting us Creative Mothers for all that we have in common - the unconditional love towards our children as well as our profession.
See the images below and read a few excerpts.
It seems like we only celebrate the over night success stories as if that is the only way; the correct way for women to succeed. For a lot of people it takes a continuous amount of hard work, graft. A resilience like no other and huge amounts of sacrifice especially if you are a mother. A quote I always come back to is "just because it is taking time, doesn't mean it is not happening" I am happier and kinder to myself knowing I am on my own path. Learning to slow down and be ok with that. – Alice Byrom
People often tell me "I don't know how you do it" but I feel like I have it so easy compared to so many parents. Working for myself in a creative environment, I feel I am surrounded (for the most part) by people who are open-minded, want to break the system, and who respect and appreciate motherhood and don't see it as an obstacle or an interruption - because it isn't.
The obvious challenges of being a parent to three young children in London - the lack of space, the financial worries, the constant noise and motion, captured so well by Dunja - are balanced with the flexibility my work allows me. Of course, time is the one thing I really lack that can't be changed and has become a precious resource. At the same time, it all goes by so quickly, I feel committed to my profession for the longrun -- there will be a time when my kids don't need me to do all the things I can't do now. As for the other sacrifices, like missing events and all that stuff, to be honest, I'm in an era when kids are a good excuse to not have to deal with people I don't want to! Kids have made me more conscious of protecting my space, my time, and well-being. – Charlotte Jansen
Something I find quite interesting is that in traditional cultures I think women are raised from birth to think about their future role as mothers. That's not how we are raised in this culture, so most of my life has been spent thinking about myself as an individual, with my plans, my hopes etc. and then you have kids and suddenly that is completely shaken up. But it seems to me that it has to be in order to be a mother. and that change is really difficult to deal with. And I find I can get carried away with my work and then feel frustrated at my low capacity (because of the kids) and I have to kind of remind myself that I'm in a completely different season now and to really take the pressure off myself. to accept my limitations. and most importantly, try not to compare myself to other people - those with kids and those without kids.
– Lakwena
While work and mothering has looked like this, it’s also looked like the new desk you built when the baby was tiny that was a promise to yourself.
It’s looked like replying to a bursting inbox via WhatsApp voicenotes because there’s no other way to deal with the deluge.
It’s looked like thanking people for their patience, rather than apologising for replying late.
It’s looked like worrying about book deadlines during 4am feeds, and worrying that you’re not doing mothering right when you’re filing copy.
It’s looked like recording podcasts with a baby curled on your shoulder.
It’s looked like standing on a stage, cradling your son’s head in an elbow and a mic in your palm, because you have no other options.
It’s looked like writing during nap time, and leaving the house in a state.
It’s looked like only rarely getting the balance right.
It’s looked like calling in the grandparents and typing while the baby rolls at your feet and telling friends to bear with you, perhaps for a few months yet.
It’s looked like wondering if you’ll regret spending this time making other things when you’re already making two new people.
It’s looked like holding onto who you were before as you change into something you don’t recognise yet.
It’s looked like guilt, and raw edges, and knowing that you can parent better if you’re creatively satisfied, too.
– Alice Vincent