Picasso mommy

...have found several very old friends from school days who are blossoming in their artistic talents--edgy, raw, gaspingly artistic people. I admit it is making me feel fairly boring. My boys need the structure and stability of a clean house, family dinners, hugs and snuggles, a happy Mommy. And I love giving that to them and relating to other moms in the same stage of life. Being their mommy and feeling their warm little arms around my neck and their sweet breath on my cheek is indescribably beautiful, and I embrace it with my whole self. But what do I do with my artist that is sprawling parched in the dust right now? I worry about her sometimes--that she'll expire before I have a chance to feed her; that I'll be so old by the time I get to her that she won't recognize me anymore. And I feel all stirred up inside when I see the blogs and portfolios of my friends...as if I not only have something to say, but something to prove. I often feel like a Picasso with the cognitive dissonance of "soccer mom," "raw artist," and "Christ follower" all sprawling in one distorted view with all their angles rubbing each other raw...and yet when you step back and see the whole, it makes sense.