A Patchwork Life

Back when I first had my girls, I read a great essay in Mamaphonic: Balancing Motherhood and Other Creative Acts on the honor roll of mother-artists that each of us keeps in our head, the inspirational ones we think of who juggled the crib, the pram in the hallway, the crying child and the shouting poem, or painting, or unwritten song. We need to repeat those names, to chant them to ourselves in the hours when it all seems impossible.

Now that I’m more sure of myself, as mother, writer and poet, I’m not as obsessive about the honor roll anymore. But today, I added Jorie Graham to the list. I’d admired her work before when I read Dream Of The Unified Field, but today I watched an amazing interview with her on parenthood and poetry. I’ve always been more of a Whitman lover than an Emily fan-girl, but the image of a heavily pregnant Graham at Dickinson’s doorstep, wanting to save both her child and her work, really struck me, like a rung bell.

If you have the same honor roll in your head, I think you’d really like it too.