What if your art was a living, breathing thing—like a child you were raising?

It's not a one-and-done job. It's not sitting down one day and finishing in an hour.

This is not a time-boxed endeavor. It's ongoing.

Art isn’t a task—it’s a relationship.

We have moments that are bound by time. An activity here, a lesson there. Take your child to school, bring them to a friend's for a playdate.

But these are markers in the larger experience of raising a child—they do not complete the experience. While certain responsibilities of parenting end when the child has become an adult, the relationship goes on for a lifetime.

We can look at our craft through a similar lens.

Art isn’t an activity, or a discrete moment, or a to-do to check off—it’s a presence that stays with us.

Our art needs daily tending—guidance, patience, and care.

A child dies when it does not receive love and attention. So too does our art.

Like all parents, we’ll make mistakes—and through them, learn how to better care for our craft.

When we give art this regular tending, it will eventually grow into its own entity. It will begin to move with a life of its own. While it doesn’t become a fully independent being like a child, it grows into something beyond us—something with its own presence in the world.

And one day our role as parents will come to an end. At a certain point, it no longer needs to be reared. It needs to go out into the world and play.

We’re not just making art—we’re raising it.