Sidewalk Chalk Talk: Erica Midkiff
Did you think of yourself as a creative kid? What does creativity look like for your these days?
So I have a memory-within-a-memory to share here. I can recall being a kid and, as that kid self, remembering this time from when I was even younger and I was lying on the floor in our living room, coloring a picture of a queen, humming to myself, just being lost in that creative flow. Totally in the moment, totally in that drawing. And as the older version of my kid self, I tried to create the moment again. I got on the floor in the same way and in the same spot. I drew a queen. I hummed.
And…I noticed that it wasn’t the same.
But you know what? I felt a little sad in the moment, but I didn’t stop wanting to feel that way. And as I write this, I’m realizing I’ve had so many of those moments since then, in so many areas of my life. How beautiful to have such an early memory of deep creative flow! I’d love to find that drawing one day and frame it for myself. Or maybe I’ll lie down on my living room floor, hum to myself, and make a new one. Creative magic!
How much time do you get to work on creative projects?
This is an interesting question! I’m in a place where I very much want to believe that more things in my life could have the feel of being a creative project, where I feel in flow and I enjoy the process of doing the thing. Even if that’s…doing the dishes or folding laundry (two of my most dreaded tasks). I’m not there yet with the dishes or the laundry, just so we’re clear. But there’s a part of me that believes that, at least sometimes, those can also feel like flow.
I also suppose this brings up what I’d consider to be a creative project. My interests move fast, and I often will start something, stop, and then pick it up much later. (I’ve been working on a cross-stitch of a bee for a couple of years now. A small bee, mind you.) I like to be able to move between projects, doing whatever catches my attention at the moment.
I love doing all kinds of things with my hands—cross-stitching, knitting, ceramics, painting, drawing, coloring. Things I can pick up and put back down again—whether the thing (like that sweet bee, so close to being done!) or the practice (like doing ceramics). This is one kind of creative project for me.
I also love spending time in reflection, considering the connections and patterns among lots of different ideas and information I’ve taken in from various places, and then bringing them all together into these visual maps that help me bring those reflections and ideas into my life. These also feel like creative projects.
And I want much of my work to be about creative projects, making things that will support the people I so dearly love working and connecting with.
There are also “someday projects” inside of me—grow a garden, write a novel, knit some socks (!), learn to figure skate…all of these feel like creative projects to me as well.
I guess I have a pretty broad definition of creative projects, and it feels really good to write this out! So it feels a little hard to pin down how much time I spend working on them, because I really do move from thing to thing, and I’m trying to make more of my life feel like it’s in this sort of flow feeling.
How did motherhood change your creative practice?
Motherhood has taught me so much about time, presence, and attention. In all sorts of ways! I’m not sure I can pin it down any more specifically than that, at least not in this moment, perhaps partly because I’m deep into integration of some of this right now, and so it feels a bit jumbled up in my mind and heart at the moment. But I do more creative things (and allow myself to follow more creative impulses) now than I did before having a child. And that’s pretty interesting to consider!
When do you feel most creative?
I feel most creative when I feel free to explore, try something new, make mistakes, experiment, get it wrong. When I don’t feel the pressure of time (even when that pressure does exist). When I allow myself to follow what feels good without placing judgment or stories on any of it.
This goes for time I spend on my own, as well as time I spend being creative with my four-year-old (soon to be five!). I notice the places where I stem or restrict my own creativity more when we are together, because I don’t want to model that. It’s an interesting opportunity for reflection, allowing, loving myself, and conscious decision-making.
What helps you make time and space for being creative? How do you avoid burn out?
Time and space have been wildly up in the air for me lately, in a way that feels good and like it’s moving me toward a much deeper, richer, and more grounded-feeling relationship with them both. I’ve learned how to tell when my body and my mind need rest (they are different kinds of rest!), and to allow that rest whenever possible. It often only takes a few minutes at a time here and there during the day, but when I can offer that to myself with as much kindness and as little judgment as I can muster up (the levels I’m able to muster up vary from day to day), I feel much better and more creative, brave, present, curious—all the things I love to be!
How can we support and encourage each other more?
Remembering that the very small moments matter. Sending that text saying, “You’ve got this!” Writing a reminder on your calendar to encourage a friend who’s starting something new, doing something hard, waiting for big news. Sending a smile, even if it’s just from your heart as you sprint across the kitchen to pop up the toast before it gets too dark (just me?). Sharing a friend’s project with someone who you know would enjoy it.
I can tell you, as someone who’s been on the receiving end of these kinds of gestures, they really do make a difference. And they add up!
Erica Midkiff is a mirror for creative humxns and business owners. She reflects back to them the deep wisdom and gifts they hold, the connections inherent among all their ideas, and the path they’re already on (but usually can’t see). She lives in Birmingham, Alabama, and she co-parents one amazing child with her former wife. He’s four years old (possibly five by the time you read this, and yes, she has all the feelings about this!).
Connect with her at ericamidkiff.com and on Instagram @ericatmidkiff.
The Sidewalk Chalk Talks are inspiring interviews with mothers who are making space for creativity and finding ease and joy in the process. The women I admire are bright, visionary creatures who love their work and their families. The different dimensions of their lives enrich each other and the world we share. I hope these conversations will inspire you and your work!