Artisthood | Paintings by Jamie Plummer

As a child, I always felt I was able to express myself through art. Words were never my friend. Reading was never as enjoyable as it was to others, math and most sciences were tolerated, and French and physics classes were suffering. The only time I felt like I was intelligent, confident and truly myself was when I was creating something. Over the years I have done a little bit of everything. I took up beading in high school and even sold my jewelry in some craft fairs. I studied and practiced photography during my undergrad and ventured into wedding photography. Theatre design allowed me to explore a large cross section of skills, technical drafting, model making, costume rendering, sculpting with form and even light. During the pandemic I sold paint poured coasters with a good friend. But all of these practices eventually turned into a chore. I enjoyed the process of creating and expression, and still do. They truly brought me joy. But the product of my work was for others. The jewelry was made for others to wear. The photos were taken to celebrate others special days, the set and costume designs were for others to act on and to wear, the coasters were sold as a means during the pandemic. And that was enough, for a while at least.

When I became a mother, that changed. Motherhood is hard. Motherhood during a global pandemic is even harder. I returned to work after 9 months of maternity leave with my first son. Four months later my father died. One month after that the world shut down and I was cut off from my creative outlet, my job. Needless to say, my mental health suffered. I didn’t realize how much I needed a creative outlet. It was during that time that I first picked up a pallet knife. I had always been intimidated by it, thinking it was beyond my skill set. But as I spread the paint across a canvas for the first time, it felt right. It felt like me. It is easy to lose yourself in motherhood and I definitely did for a while. Taking care of small humans consumes your identity and your time. In the rare instances when you do find time for yourself, you are exhausted. When I take the time to paint, I am taking back a piece of myself, remembering who I am as an individual, feeling at home, enjoying something I am good at. It is meditative, it brings me joy, it brings me peace, it brings me confidence. It is just for me.