Mothers on social media, and how the internet has changed family dynamics

Boise, Idaho, motherhood, Posts tagged as "artists" from the blog, technology, writing

This is something I’ve been thinking/reading about lately. Mostly reactions to this article about a freshly minted 14 year old on social media who was shocked about the content posted about her by family without her knowledge.

We have a generation of babies right now that will likely emerge as adults in a world with internet.

Babies with videos and images of themselves being assaulted by cheese, learning how to speak and walk. Babies growing up, throwing tantrums and asking questions all documented- sometimes in its entirety- on the internet.

I feel the compulsion interesting and understandable. It has only become very recently that families were able to do more than simply pull photos out from your wallet or purse. Now that we are able to share online, we will overshare. This leaves each person vulnerable. Imagine what this data is doing for machine learning.

We are watching the first generation of people with internet raising their children.

Right now, teenagers exist in the United States that have been entirely denied a private childhood, and I think that’s a problem.

Blogging around your children robs them of something that was afforded to you: the right to have some of their most intimate and vulnerable moments as humans exposed to the internet without consent.

I don’t think that posting a photo is a bad thing, but the volumes of data provided to huge platforms as Facebook and similar is a very scary thought. I would imagine the learning would become so successful that predictions can be made on virtually anything about a person if for example Facebook had data on them from birth to adulthood.

While it would be best to not post photos at all on the internet, I already posted my son’s newborn photo on this website. I’m excited for him to be a part of the rest of my life, and I don’t regret it. I am making a promise to him and to myself that it would be the last one. It’s hard, because he is extremely beautiful to me but this feels like the right way to go.

When he is able to understand what the internet is and tells me he wants to explore it, then we can catch back up. So far, there’s a lot of evidence to back up claims that too much internet access can cause or exacerbate depression.

I want to keep him informed about the opportunities that the internet can provide, as well as the dangers of it.

I want to teach him how to use the internet effectively.

This will be an interesting conversation as his father is not an “internet” person outside of youtube. I work online in the social media and advertising space. We both have vastly different and useful opinions on the internet to share. We also agree that the more time he spends in nature, the better off if will be.

I don’t make art enough these days to update the gallery, but I’m thinking about it. Life is tiring right now because little one is nearly 4 months old. I’ll draft something next weekend.

I hope you’ve noticed the work uploading more art on to this web page. I have a huge variety of work from photography to illustrations with pen to large scale mixed media/ acrylic paintings.

They span over a decade at least, so I’ve been entertaining the idea of respecting myself as an artist.

Not just as a slug of a woman.

With love,

It’s too easy…

photos, Posts tagged as "artists" from the blog

To drink cup after cup of tea. Especially when its cold out, when I’m listening to this song. When it heats up outside, I will take slices of mango and freeze them in the ice cube tray and put them in my cups of tea to cool them down.

Drinking tea has always been something I loved. At age 12, I wrote about the ceremonies in Japan and the different types of tea and meanings of each. I don’t remember if it was accurate information.

Way back then, I used a website for children that was intended to connect them with similar aged kids to become penpals from all around the world. I wrote back and forth to a girl named Laura who lived in New Zealand and always talked about how pretty it was until one day she stopped writing back.

I had some penpals from Japan for a short period of time as well. Despite never learning to speak fluent Japanese, I loved discovering more Japanese art online and writing more than anything else.

I loved the internet, and thought it was incredible.

That I happened to exist at a time where I could just find a person in New Zealand . That this person would want to talk to me on aim or through letters that traveled thousands of miles to get to them.

I hope my son will take on a penpal when he’s that age.

It’s almost Spring times. I call it spring, despite the snow on the mountains. Boise is getting warmer, my legs are walking longer and the sun is bright more often than not.

I was playing with light while the boys were asleep. Putting dishes in the dishwasher, opening the blinds. I’m still doing good. The plan is to do some art this weekend, and some writing, and more google analytics lessons. Pray for the world and feel grateful for life.

Experimenting with light / my face

Art Vs Artist

Boise, Idaho, writing

Am I an artist anymore? This is where my mind is at. It’s March 2nd, 2019. I’ve been pushing myself to prioritize making art, for my own mental health.

To come to terms with the rapid evolution of my life into a married mother. Trying to find out where Camille sits after all of these changes were and continue to be a challenge. I am doing well and should be proud of myself. This painting is actually fairly large and is painted over something I did back in July.

A car dealer came over to our apartment to look at some art to buy, a fast talking and real slick looking guy. I had listed several paintings on the app “LetGo“. He wanted to buy 4 paintings but only left with 2 because the works I physically have of are mostly quite small with 2 exceptions. He hated this one, I hated it and I painted over it. It has a devil, and I don’t much like the devil.

I guess when my husband said it, it really clicked. When you have a lot of money, you have big walls and want big art. I immediately took it off the wall, onto my easel and went over it with paint. Several layers of paint.

We’re going to be staying in Boise as a family for another 6 months, and the plan is to move back to Tampa Bay in late September so we don’t have to spend another winter in Idaho. I am going to keep this momentum of constant art creation on a much larger scale that my usual while we’re still out here in Boise. Every day I hold this boy and he’s so beautiful and sleeps and I make time for art. I’m married to the best guy I’ve ever met and life it truly awesome.

Sitting and clinging to my artistic identity

Posts tagged as "artists" from the blog
My latest artwork, at 4 different stages of growth. Taken over the course of 48 hours.

Time looks so different for everyone. I’ve noticed lately that it looks like sitting for me.

Sitting on a couch, and then a recliner, and then in bed. My bambino in my arms everywhere. Sitting on my ass, like a modern day human.

I know how bad sitting is for human beings and I think about it a lot, while I’m sitting down. This is just how life is in 2019. Everyone everywhere: sitting down.

I’ve allowed my mind to go to the wind. When I know there’s so much to do, but I want nothing more than to rest and stare at my baby.

I want to talk to him, hold him and let my eyes glaze over. To become a slave to his growth and well being.

It’s a very strange and intense feeling and I’ve bent to force myself into self care and making art and doing the bare minimum mentally.

I’m just focusing on rest and rejuvenation.

I want this year to be bursting. I ‘m now married, committed to my family as they are permanent fixtures in my life.

A life I never felt had permanent fixtures. It’s a good feeling knowing every day I will have them. It’s a huge responsibility and a huge comfort.

I feel swollen with desire to be a better person now.

Feeling like I’m in the calm before a storm of growth.

Thinking to myself, “This is a great time for a nap”. In one week, when my maternity leave is over I will return to my computer. Feeling reenergized.

Instead of sitting, I will be walking. I will be breathing and maybe driving or hiking or laying in the sun. It up straight, type with good posture, drink my water, clear my throat on mute, read books at night again, and I am going to thrive.

On weekends, I will be painting and spending time with my family.

I’m ready for life. Ready for my new normal life.

Plastic Dolls from 1967

quick snapshots as a busy no longer pregnant/ artist

Posts tagged as "artists" from the blog

My pregnant mind. A perfect pile on the counter left there intentionally. Plastic doll, some lace, some, ideas floating around. It serves as a gift, a little reminder. Of all the small, beautiful things that have been and that are to come.

My maternity leave is almost over. The last few weeks of my pregnancy were extremely draining of my mind and energy. Then, I gave birth and have been getting to know that tiny person I grew. I still have a lot of “meeting” to do, and that’s fascinating of itself. He’s ever evolving for the entire rest of my life.

I don’t know how I’ll manage having to direct my attention to work and away from him. Coming to terms with my privilege to be able to spend so much time with baby while on my leave. Since November 30th without stressing out about bills and finances.

I feel extremely sad that many mothers don’t get to have any time with their little babies without feeling the financial burdens of taking that time off without pay.

This event feels so life changing, I don’t truly even feel like the same person anymore and cannot relate to who I was 3 months ago.

Before the gravity of my permanent exhaustion settles in.

I’m going to do it anyway, I’ll report back to you soon to let you know how it goes. The way the situation is unraveling, he will have a lot of time to bond with his father. That’s a beautiful thing to me. They look a lot alike. I don’t know if the baby eyes will always be this blue, but watching them blend together with the passing of time will be something of a treat for me to see.

When I look back at my older artwork, my thoughts and personality I no longer identify with. Early to mid twenties, unhinged, creative and perverted. I’ve evolved. I’ve become more dynamic.

I’m a mother now, a parent, a wife. I have other duties that will define me, I’m not just an artist. How I am going to reflect these changes artistically, I still don’t know. I’m quite curious to find out. My uterus isn’t pregnant anymore but my mind feels like it will always be. Bursting will renewed life over and over again until I

To check out the latest art, check out the new “Mothers Milk” gallery.

Making art but only in between Nourishment & Pleasure

Posts tagged as "artists" from the blog

I have been trying to make art every weekend. It is not so easy. Staying up late, waking up early and being 100% focused on the safety and comfort of a brand new person is exhausting stuff, not to my surprise.

My body does not make art, it is merely a vessel to provide nourishment and pleasure.

The little bambino is so beautiful. Perfect, handsome and healthy. All of my energy is focused on being there for the baby. I am so tired. Turning 30 in 2019 and I feel it. New art has been added to the gallery. Acrylic paintings are all for sale,  so please contact me with interest!

Paypal accepted.

Tiny hands, Big love

motherhood, pregnancy

His tiny body wriggles, coos and cries in his rocker. When I picked him up a few hours ago, his crying mouth closed and he fell promptly asleep once his head hit my chest. His little hands clung to the top of my t-shirt. I started to cry because I don’t think I’ve ever loved anything or anyone as much as I love this tiny little baby I created.

🌈

He is so small and entirely reliant on us. Every whimper and cry is a secret code we are left to decipher. Other parents tell me, he will teach you so much about the world and about life. I have loved many things and many people intensely but never as much as this baby boy.

The birth was about a week ago, the same date as my own fathers birthday. A sweet homage- November 30th. I’ve never been in so much pain before, between the pregnancy itself and the end of it. 30 ounces of blood lost, 5 hours of active labor, 4 nights in the hospital, and a vaginal tear later and we are home with our beautiful little human. His eyes dart around, he often is looking around with an air of disapproval. A grumpy little thing. Still so beautiful.

My greatest work of art. I spend a lot of time staring at him. I hope to take this big love and use it to fuel a new generation of creativity, between the lack of sleep, and inspiration in how brand new he is, and the responsibility of molding him into a full grown human.

woman immediately after giving birth
5:40 pm November 30th 2018 ; holding baby

I haven’t been painting anything, and I hope the reasons why have been obvious. I am going to be slowly increases updates after I return from my maternity leave to work and the internet. Feel free to check out the gallery for the latest works up until now!

3 Weeks, 5 Days left with this body in my body.

pregnancy

It’s not that I really consider the estimated due date an exact science or even remotely infallible. I just want my body back.

This is all that I have in my mind to consider his arrival date. This is the gift I have been given since week 12 of my pregnancy. It’s all I have to look forward to.

I can’t sleep, my hands , fingers and wrists are so swollen. My belly contains the universe for one little human, waiting for validity and the greetings of the earth.

Within my body is another body, another rib cage, another set up legs, a heart beating blood and massive nets of skin.

Eyes, a nose, two fists, two arms, a mouth.

To say that I am scared is an understatement. I’ve lost my nerves, I am trying to remain calm but the changes in my life will be unparalleled. The other part of this is excitement, to have my autonomy back and my body back, just mine.

I’ll share it occasionally, but not 24/7 for nine entire months as I have been. I’m not inclined to to lie, I am extremely scared of the challenge involved in this.  Longing for the constant partnership it will take to do this together. I don’t know if I can do it alone. I don’t want to be challenged to find out.

I’ve been unable to sleep, and it’s out of my control so I guess I’ll continue to not sleep.

Everything is waiting for you, Axle. My Christmas gift this year will be your beautiful little fresh born face. In the meantime, I’ll try to negotiate with the pains that are associated with your in utero growth. This pregnancy is killing me and I’m waiting on you to give me new life.

In the meantime, talk soon. Check out the gallery while I’m busy growing a person.

ciao.

Stripping away my identity, one day at a time

pregnancy, writing

That’s what the past 6 months have felt like. My identity will replaced to the slavery of child rearing. My life will soon no longer revolve around me, only my own whims and desires. Soon, a brand new child will come into the world. 

As a self-proclaimed wild-card, this is a bit much to accept. I’m 29 years old this year and still feel like a child myself, stumbling around life.

This could be me at 24, tripping in the woods and dipping my toes in the springs. I’m paying close attention to the ripples that start from my toes and end nowhere, around the planet, everywhere. 

I’d like to think the ripples extended themselves all the way to the point in my life where I met my partner in Eugene.

To the point when he impregnated me during a cold night in Boise, and to the moment right now where I’m typing with my laptop propped up against my very large belly.

Our son could kick the laptop off my lap in a violent kick of his tiny legs if he really wanted to, and the fact that he hasn’t says something. 

I am scared I won’t be myself anymore, I’ll just become a mother. It should be fine to have a reduction from an individual woman to a mother.  But in my stomach, it does not feel fine. My obligations are daunting. I should feel that If thats what it takes then I’ll do it. I will disintegrate. 

But for me, growing up, it was never like that. 

Something about my childhood is that we always knew our place. We knew that 

My parents had passions beyond raising us.

For my father, music was his passion.

He loved playing guitar more than anything in the world, more than spending time with us, more than anything. He shared his gift and passion with us and with the world and it is beautiful to me. We all knew our dad, Billy Bongster. 

Dad loved to play music, & smoke pot and that was fine and it inspired us to find our own passions in life. For me, that was always art. She loved to have fun, and she is truly a free spirit. Always dancing, going on adventures, immersing herself in self love and exploration.

I want to raise my child in the same way, to know that mommy loves to paint and daddy loves to skate and we love him to the ends of the earth.

It’s important to me that he develops a passion for something in life. He should know we’re here to help him find his way. I get lost thinking about this tiny fetus that will eventually grow into an adult. An adult who will be around long after I am gone from this planet. 

Based on current data projections, his life expectancy is 76 years old. Having been born in the year 2018, he will lie through the year 2094. I can only hope.  Born to me is a child of the future. How much has life changed for us born in the late 80s and early 90s? Everything I am experiencing is already obsolete. 

Life changed a lot for our parents and our grandparents. It’s a massive duty to raise a human to love and protect our earth and to understand intimately how our actions drive both positive and negative change.

Unsure how well we will do as parents or how well the planet will fare, I’m riddled with anxiety. This isn’t based on just our influence, but influence of everyone carrying new life right now. Those that have birthed in recent years and will in the near future.  “Is it even a good idea to give birth right now?,” our Senator Alexandria Ocasio~Cortez asks recently.  I think the same things and it makes me feel guilty. 

All that I can do is promise him, myself, my partner and the universe this: I will do my best. and will continue to be myself and project my energies into the world. My hopes for a positive change are forever unwavering. 

A son, shining in the hot summer sky

pregnancy, writing

My son.

It’s a nice finishing touch of a thought I’ve had since I found out. What else is there to discover? I have just about 4 months to go before I meet my son. What a nervous feeling this is. I wonder if you’ll identify with that, assigned gender, and I wonder if you’ll be healthy.  I wonder what color eyes you’ll have, and if you’ll be as enamored with music and art as I am.

July 24th, it was a Tuesday. Thats when I went for an anatomical scan with Shane.  To further add more traits to the child growing in my womb. “Oh wow. He has quite large testicles, it’s definitely a boy”, the nurse exclaimed. My fiance smirked and said something funny.

It’s strange and fascinating to me that while growing in my womb, tumbling and kicking and roaming about in the limited expanse of his universe, I am out here on earth struggling to sleep, too.

I wonder if you’ll share my father’s birthdate, or if you’ll have a sense of humor like your own father.

A sense of athleticism.

I wonder all kinds of things, with each stroke of the paint brush. I’m trying to keep busy inside, at least. Check out the new art in the meantime. I’ve been quite productive with a commission by my good friend Frank Wood.