Lauren Barnett’s work prompts us to reassess our perspective on the world around us: From the gentle absurdity of her comics, which look at everything from a slightly different angle in a way that may seem silly but ultimately makes us question the way we go about our daily lives, to the beautiful drawings and paintings of the small city she lives in, which ignore the obvious subjects to find beauty in a more askew view — in the crisscrossing of powerlines and the poetry of shadows on asphalt. We were happy to have a chance to ask Barnett a few questions about the way she uses the in-between times in her day to explore the in-between places in our lives.

Magpies: I love your pictures of Lambertville – the black and white from a while back and the new work you’re creating now. I’ve been living in this tiny city for a couple of decades, and I walk around town a lot. It’s always fascinating to me that it can take me a minute to guess the location of your pictures, because you rarely choose the obvious subject. It’s rarely a straight-on portrait of a gingerbread Victorian, but rather the alleyways, intersections, rooftops seen through trees, in-between spaces. I love that so much. How do you pick locations? What sort of landscape are you attracted to? Do you work from life or from photographs? 

LB: Thank you for noticing this! I am usually looking for interesting angles, a good light source or shadows or something you might think is ugly but in a certain view is actually quite beautiful! I feel this way about the power lines in Lambertville. They are a bit of an eyesore and are sort of everywhere. When I first started making the black and white drawings, I was trying to avoid them, but then they became a focus, there’s something sort of beautiful about how they bisect everything! Like grid lines. I like the idea of a view or spot that someone might just stroll past and finding some beauty in it. I find these spots mostly on walks around town in the evening or early early morning with my daughters. I take photos and draw them later (when the girls are sleeping usually).

As much as I loved your black and white drawings, there’s such a beautiful light in the paintings and the color-pencil drawings that I find so moving and evocative. [Oof, that nighttime painting on cardboard (George Street) kills me!] How does working in color/b&w change your method or the ideas behind what you’re working on?

I feel like the black and white drawings are kind of an exercise in restraint. I make them with markers, so if you make a wrong mark, you kind of ruin the drawing and have to start over. It really makes you take a beat to make sure you’re getting things down where you want them. When I moved towards painting and colored pencils, it was because you can’t capture certain things in just black and white. I was interested in capturing the colors of the shadow and light around town. We have so many brightly colored houses in Lambertville, it’s fun to capture them and also to see the pavement, sidewalks, shadows, sun dappling, trees, etc as a part of that color. I like how bright and unusual colors can still give the information of shadow and light.

On that note, I’m surprised by how much color and shadow and emotion you can convey with colored pencil drawings. How did you choose that medium? Is it something you’ve worked with before? Does it have anything to do with being a new mother who doesn’t have time to faff about with preparing and cleaning up paints or inks?

Absolutely on the cleaning up part! When the girls would nap I would sit down to make a painting and inevitably one of them would wake up or cry, etc and you can’t just leave your brushes soaking all day, and the paint gets weird even if you cover it! It was too difficult to try to paint in those in-between times. I also have a full time job, so im making drawings late at night or early in the morning, colored pencil became a really easy way to make these images without having to sit down at a desk with brushes and water etc etc. i can sit in the living room and make a drawing, the convenience of it and relative non-messiness of the medium makes it possible.

Speaking of motherhood … You had twins in the fall (I believe) and started creating, or at least sharing work on a regular basis, in the spring. I think a lot a lot about motherhood and creativity: The toll pregnancy takes on you physically and emotionally, which doesn’t quite prepare you for how your life will change when you have newborns in the house. I remember when I was pregnant, I thought a lot about Agnes Varda’s Opera Mouffe, which she shot so specifically and meaningfully as a pregnant woman. I wanted to do something that significant and clever. But I was so tired! In a way I’d never experienced before. And yet, in a sense, I was creating something – well, someone – the whole while. How did pregnancy impact your work as an artist? Was it as you expected it would? (It sure wasn’t for me!) What about after the babies were born? It feels as though in spring, you had a sort of creative outburst and have been producing these vibrant works regularly since then. Do you remember a shift in perspective on creativity at a certain point in their infancy or your adjustment to it?

I was so shocked: when I was pregnant I couldn’t make anything. It was like my body said look I’m making two babies right now and that’s all I can do. I had no motivation to make comics, drawings, paintings, nothing. When I would try I would just sit there with no ideas. It was really shocking because I have always been a person with a daily art practice. but for the entire pregnancy i just couldnt, and even after the girls were born I still couldnt make anything. in those first few months you are just exhausted and youre up all night and it feels like you will never get a break. as they got a little older, we got them into daycare etc etc i was able to carve out some brain space to start to want to make things again, and it’s really wonderful to have these two amazing babies plus be able to make work again. I feel very lucky.

When you have infants in the house, you become acutely aware of daily schedules … naptimes, mealtimes, bedtimes. I think to a certain extent that’s true with creativity as well. The more you write, the more you write. If you can work writing (or any kind of creativity) into your daily schedule, and try to create something even if you’re not in the mood or not inspired, you find yourself becoming inspired, thinking about it, mulling it over on a sleepless night, planning to try again tomorrow. Do you have an idea of a pattern art as a daily practice? Do you have a scheduled time to create that may or may not be accommodated by your babies’ needs?

During the pandemic I had a very rigid schedule. I would get up at 5am and make art until about 9:30, then I would switch to job mode for the day. I did this every single day while we were on lockdown. After things eased up a bit I maintained that art practice for a very long time, so I think that mornings have naturally become my creative time. Since the girls were born, I have become more flexible (now they wake up at 5am, so I cannot use that time to make art anymore, unless their grandparents are visiting! lol then I can steal some time while they watch them). Now I usually draw at night after they’ve gone to bed.

I’ve always loved your comics. My favorite kind of humor has a sort of gentle absurdity that makes us question the way we see the world around us and the things we accept as true. I think parenthood can do that as well, and it always helps in art, life, and motherhood to have an offbeat sense of humor. How does momming change your idea of the comics you create or even your sense of humor in general?

I have still not found my comics rhythm again since having babies. Drawings have flowed back to me and I make a comic here and there, but I’m still waiting for the regular daily stream of comics thoughts that I used to have. I thought I would have all of this fodder from the kids or those experiences, but so far it hasn’t really been an inspiration point for me. I hope that changes!

Having asked you a billion questions about being a mother who creates … I remember when my kids were babies or very little, I bristled at the idea of being labeled as a mom. I love other moms, but I didn’t want to be defined that way; I didn’t want whatever I created to be defined that way. Do you have any sense of trying to separate your creative, professional, or personal life from that sort of pigeonholing?

I can understand the bristle because even though having kids has changed my art practice mostly for practical reasons, I don’t feel that different as a person? It’s almost like I’ve added on to myself, but the rest of me is still me. like an addition to a house lol.

On that note, it was so distressing to me during the long-ago now and much regretted election season to see that Kamala Harris was labeled as less empathetic because she hadn’t given birth to a baby, by these asshole men who somehow claim to be the only ones who know the value of motherhood. You’re raising children in what I see as really a rough patch for our country and the world. I think we’re living in a time in which we need some protest, some rebellion. But sometimes just living your life as you are or creating art as you want to, or asking questions, is the least or best we can do. How does that impact your art, your life?

I think about this a lot. Being married to a woman, having a family, it can be kind of scary in a climate like this, and feeling that worry can affect you on a day-to-day level. We are lucky to live in Lambertville where mostly everyone is accepting and open-minded, but the thin layer of fear never leaves you. I think this is true for women in general, and when you add queerness into the mix it just heightens the fear.  I think enjoying our day-to-day and carving out space to create something beautiful on a regular basis is in a way a protest in itself. The current trajectory of the world and the US is frightening, and so we have to keep living our lives and making beautiful things now more than ever.

What is your dream for the future?

I hope we see a sea change soon, so many things have started moving backwards in terms of human rights, women’s rights, trans rights, the list goes on and on. I hope that we can get back to a place of progress and community-minded thinking. I would like to see universal healthcare! All of these things seem farther and farther out of reach since the election, and it can be disheartening, but I do have faith we can turn things around. I hope we can at least! Every day I wake up excited, it sounds cheesy, but it’s true. I go to bed looking forward to a cup of coffee in the morning lol. When it’s sunny out, I look forward to finding a really nice shadow to draw, when it’s a gloomy day, I’m hoping to see something new in a place I might see every day. My late grandmother always used to say that painting is looking, and it really is. My favorite thing about making art, making these drawings, is that it helps me to really see what’s around. Sometimes I’m driving and I see something I want to draw, but I miss it, I don’t stop in time, or I’m on the highway and I see it for only a second. I find that exhilarating and frustrating, but it is also so hopeful. Like everywhere we go, even a highway or a junk yard or a parking lot has something about it that you want to capture or remember. It’s nice to go through your day expecting to find beauty in odd places.

Lauren Barnett is a painter and Ignatz-nominated cartoonist. Her work has been featured in The New Yorker, the Washington Post’s The Lily, and Harper’s Bazaar Korea, among other publications. She was a 2022 resident at the St. Nell’s Humor Writing Residency. You can find daily comics and paintings on Instagram @laurenmarybarnett. Barnett is chief operating officer at Art21and lives in Lambertville, NJ with her wife and daughters. Her work can be seen at melikesyou.com