Chaotic. Tired. Full of love. Excited.
That’s this season, in four words.
My daughter is napping but probably wakes up as soon as I start typing. Sleep has been a whole thing. Evenings are unpredictable, she might wake up once or 3 times. Some nights stretch long and some days disappear completely, and somewhere in the middle of all of it, there’s this quiet voice that keeps coming back:
I want to create again.
Becoming a mother shifted something in me I didn’t fully expect.
Not just time and energy... though yes, both of those. But something quieter. The way I relate to my work changed. Before, I could disappear into a painting for hours. Now it feels like everything needs to happen quickly, in stolen moments, in the small spaces that open up after she’s finally asleep.
And sometimes when I do sit down to paint, I don’t even know what I want to make.
I feel out of practice. A little disconnected from something that used to come naturally. So I’ve been going back to small things. Tiny abstracts, pieces that can exist within an hour. Not because that’s all I want forever, but because that’s what fits right now. And I’m slowly learning to let that be enough.
In case this is the first thing your read from me. Hi, I’m Marijke, an abstract and figurative artist from the Netherlands.
I make paintings that sit somewhere between feeling and form, loose abstracts in all sizes. And sometimes figurative work too, women mostly, painted the way I see them: soft, strong, layered, a little complex. My work is about emotion more than precision. About creating something you want to actually live with, hang above your sofa, catch your eye on an ordinary Tuesday.
I’ve been building this slowly, alongside a full life. And now, alongside motherhood too.
Which brings me back to where I am right now.
There’s a layer to this I don’t talk about much.
The part of me that wonders if I’ll ever make this sustainable. Whether I’ll find the people who truly connect with my work. Whether I’m doing enough, or pushing too hard, or somewhere in between.
I go back and forth between wanting more structure and wanting more softness. Between I should be painting every evening and maybe I just need to trust the pace of my life right now. I genuinely don’t always know which one is right.
And then there’s Instagram.... which I both understand (I think) and find exhausting. I know how it works. I know content, consistency, visibility. But I’ve noticed something uncomfortable in myself lately: the way every thought starts to feel like potential material. Every moment a possible post.
I don’t want to live like that. I don’t want my life to become content.
But I also want to build something real. I want my work to reach people. I want this to grow.
So I’m trying to find a way that actually feels like me and I don’t have that fully figured out yet.
That’s really why I’m starting this.
Not as a strategy. Not as another thing I should be doing. But because I miss connection, real conversation, spaces that don’t have to be fast or perfect. I want somewhere that feels more like a circle than a feed.
If you’re building something alongside motherhood and a full life, if you’re navigating creativity and doubt and the question of whether you’re doing it right? you’re not alone in that. I’m right here in it too.
And in between all the chaos, there are these quiet moments that feel enormous. Watching my daughter sit completely absorbed with the tiniest thing. The simplicity of it. It keeps reminding me of what I want to come back to in my work as well.
Less pressure. More presence. More play.
Maybe that’s the whole direction.
I don’t have a clear plan yet for this journal part of my website. But I want it to feel grounded, honest, real — like sitting down together for a moment and actually talking.
So if you’re here: thank you, I am so happy to have you in my circle.
What season are you in right now?
Not sure which season you are in? Take the quiz I created here
