We’ve always had the studio as part of the home, which meant having our kids coming and going while I’ve been painting. Whenever I really needed to concentrate, I had to learn how to say, “I’m sorry, I can’t answer you right now,” rather than just acting grumpy.
We didn’t child-proof the studio, yet somehow our kids never got into trouble with the sharp tools, ink bottles, and oil paint. They had their own art supplies that they could use.
To give them something to do during the long painting hours, we had a huge tray of Legos in the middle of the floor. I felt lucky to have my kids around when they were growing up.
But sometimes, when clients called, I had a hard time making my studio sound like a serious place--I remember once I was on the phone with a paleontologist who stopped to ask about the squeak toy that he heard in the background.
I don’t think my kids regarded a dad who draws dinosaurs as anything special. One time my son had a friend over. I heard the friend say in a stage whisper, “Does your dad have a job?”
No, my son replied. “He just stays home and draws dinosaurs all day.”
I’d be interested in your experience, either as an artist-parent or as a person who grew up around art.