Miki Lowe on Creative Persistence, Shifting Priorities, and Early Motherhood

by Jessie Wiener

We recently partnered with illustrator Miki Lowe on a Mother’s Day illustration.

It took the form of a bouquet, but not something perfectly arranged. Instead, something a little looser. Slightly messy, a bit chaotic, and full in a way that reflects early motherhood, where everything is happening at once—an idea that felt especially personal, as Miki is in the early months of motherhood herself.

That idea stayed with me, so when we spoke, we talked about more than just the illustration. We talked about the season she’s in now, and what that shift into motherhood has felt like.

I met Miki over Zoom while she was home in a small village, where she and her husband are spending the first months of their daughter Rio's life. It’s quieter than London, where they normally divide their time, and she chose it intentionally—a gentler place to land at the beginning of motherhood.

Rio is four months old now. Miki laughs easily when she talks about her, describing a cheerful baby who already seems fascinated by the people around her. These early months are unfolding in that familiar blur of short nights, shifting routines, and constant adjustment.

For Miki, the transition hasn’t felt like becoming a different person. The creative life she spent years building is still there. The difference now is that everything centers around someone new.

Finding Her Way to Illustration

When Miki was a kid, the first job she ever imagined having was as an illustrator.

“I always really loved illustrated books,” she says. “And I remember realizing—oh, that’s actually a job.”

But the path there wasn’t straightforward.

She studied illustration at art school in London but left unsure whether it was really the direction she wanted to pursue. Instead, she spent several years leaning into fine art, doing exhibitions and making art for art’s sake.

Eventually, she moved into graphic design. That experience helped clarify something she hadn’t been able to articulate before: the space she felt most creatively at home lived somewhere between fine art and design.

“That middle point between fine art and design—for me, that’s illustration.”

The early years required persistence, but once commissions started coming in, she focused almost entirely on building momentum. Work became the priority.

“I would probably take on more work than I could realistically do,” she says. “I didn’t really go out. It was work, work, work.”

At first, the projects were mostly editorial, but over time, the work expanded in ways she hadn’t expected. Her illustrations began appearing on textiles, packaging, furniture, garments, and other places she hadn’t originally imagined.

One of the things she loves most about illustration is exactly that unpredictability.

“You never know what assignment you’re going to get,” she says. “It’s terrifying sometimes, but that’s also what makes it exciting.”

The Question of Motherhood

That same intensity made the idea of motherhood difficult to picture.

Miki had been thinking about having a child for several years, but the timing never seemed quite right. Work was always part of the equation.

“I kept thinking maybe it’s not the time yet,” she says. “I still need to invest in work.”

Eventually, the question shifted. Instead of trying to determine the perfect moment, she started wondering whether she might regret waiting. Rather than overthink the logistics, she decided to move forward and trust the rest would work itself out.

“I literally thought, I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

The Early Months

Rio’s personality is starting to emerge.

“She likes looking at people,” Miki says, smiling. “I feel like she’s a bit of a gossip.”

Like many new parents, she expected the exhaustion, but the speed at which everything changes still surprised her.

“You get used to one phase for about a week,” she says, “and then everything shifts again.”

Watching her daughter’s reactions become more expressive has been one of the most joyful parts of the early months. At first, Rio was so calm and quiet that Miki occasionally wondered if everything was okay. Then the smiles started coming.

“She started smiling, and you suddenly see this little character,” Miki says. “I think she’s quite amazing, actually.”

Learning to Say No

One of the biggest adjustments Miki is navigating right now is learning how to say no.

Before Rio was born, saying yes was part of how she built her career. Freelance work often rewards availability and momentum, and for years, Miki accepted almost every opportunity that came her way.

Turning work down didn’t feel like an option.

Motherhood has complicated that instinct. With less time in the day—and a new person who depends on her completely—Miki now approaches projects more carefully, weighing what she can realistically take on.

Part of the difficulty, she admits, is how closely her sense of identity has been tied to work.

“I don’t have fear of missing out in my social life,” she says. “I have fear of missing out at work.”

But motherhood has shifted her priorities in ways she didn’t fully anticipate.

“Before, I would neglect myself for the sake of work,” she says. “But I can’t imagine neglecting my baby.”

The change has made certain decisions clearer than they used to be.

Work, Reimagined

When Rio arrived, Miki took two months off work. Now she’s easing back into commissions, choosing projects that allow more time and flexibility.

“At the moment, I can’t really do jobs that need a fast turnaround,” she says.

Her husband, who is also self-employed, has taken paternity leave during these early months, and the two share care throughout the day. It gives Miki small pockets of time to work—during naps, feeds, or the walks her husband loves taking Rio on.

There’s no real routine yet.

“I just sort of work when I can,” she says.

If anything, motherhood has made her more efficient, and, in a way she didn’t expect, introduced a kind of balance she didn’t have before.

But the tension between work and motherhood is always there. Miki spent years building a career she cares deeply about, and she’s also trying to stay present for a stage of life she knows won’t last long.

“I don’t want to miss her infancy.”

The Identity Shift

Before becoming a mother, Miki worried the experience might fundamentally change who she was. Instead, the shift feels quieter than that.

“I still feel like me,” she says. “Just with a baby added.”

What has changed is perspective. Her daughter has become a kind of lens through which she looks at things—how she plans her time, how she imagines the future, and even how she approaches creative work.

In her personal drawings, she’s noticed things becoming a little more playful. Less delicate. Bigger shapes.

“If I’m making something just for myself,” she says, “I sometimes think about what she might enjoy.”

That shift has extended beyond her art, shaping how she moves through the world more generally.

“Since I got pregnant, it felt like I got admitted into this community I didn’t know existed,” she says.

Women she had previously only passed on the street suddenly felt different. Conversations started more easily. There was a sense of shared understanding, something unspoken but immediately recognizable, even with people she barely knew before.

Living in a village has made that feeling even more visible. When she walks through town with Rio, those quiet connections show up everywhere—in passing conversations, small check-ins, and the simple recognition between parents.

“It’s like a gate opens,” she says. “You suddenly have this thing in common.”

The emotional shift of motherhood surprised her in other ways, too. She expected to love her daughter, of course, but the depth of that feeling still caught her off guard.

“You don’t love someone like that until you have a child,” she says. “It’s completely different from how you love your partner or your friends or your parents. It’s unconditional.”

The Physical Reality of Motherhood

There have been surprises along the way.

“I used to think breastfeeding would literally suck the life out of me,” she says, laughing. “I thought it would be exhausting and maybe a bit of a chore.”

And in some ways, it is exhausting. But the emotional side of it surprised her.

“I didn’t expect to enjoy it so much,” she says. “It’s such a special connection. There’s really nothing else like it. All she’s ever had is your milk. It’s kind of incredible when you think about it.”

Taking It One Day at a Time

Right now, Miki isn’t trying to map out the next five years.

She’s adjusting her work gradually, figuring out what balance looks like, and letting the next phase take shape slowly.

“I’m just taking it one day at a time.”

For someone who spent years pushing herself to take every opportunity, learning to move at a different pace feels like its own kind of shift.

Motherhood hasn’t replaced the life she built before. It’s just shifted the center of it.

And for now, with a baby just out of frame and work slowly finding its way back into the day, Miki is letting the next chapter take shape as it comes.

Images by Miki Lowe and Armando Seijo