So much of my work is about children and/or parenting; it's

When Paul G. Tremblay confessed: “So much of my work is about children and/or parenting; it’s something I’m drawn to without being able to completely articulate why,” he gave voice to a mystery that echoes through the lives of many who create. His words remind us that the themes of children and parenting are not merely subjects of art, but eternal forces that tug at the human heart. For in every age, from the earliest myths to the latest stories, the bond between parent and child has remained one of the deepest wells of inspiration.

The origin of this attraction lies in the very fabric of humanity. To speak of children is to speak of innocence, of beginnings, of the fragile hope upon which the future rests. To speak of parenting is to speak of sacrifice, of duty, of love that gives without measure. Tremblay admits he cannot fully explain why he is drawn to these themes, and perhaps that is because the reasons dwell deeper than reason itself. They are inscribed in the soul, older than language, older than story, carried in the heartbeats of every generation that has ever raised the next.

History gives us many examples of this mysterious pull. Consider Sophocles, who in his plays wove tales of parents and children locked in tragedy and fate — Oedipus and Laius, Antigone and Creon. These were not merely stories of kings and rulers, but reflections of the universal struggle between generations. Or recall Tolstoy, whose pages overflow with the trials of families, marriages, and the raising of children. In both ancient tragedy and modern novel, the theme arises again and again: artists cannot resist the drama of parenting, because it is the very drama of life itself.

Tremblay’s honesty — “without being able to completely articulate why” — is itself profound. For there are truths that cannot be captured fully by explanation, only by expression. The act of writing, painting, or creating is often the soul’s way of speaking what the tongue cannot. Perhaps his attraction to children and parenting reflects not only his own life but the collective longing of humanity to understand how love, protection, and vulnerability shape us all. The mystery is not a weakness, but a sign that he is touching something larger than himself.

The meaning of his words also speaks to the power of art itself. Where philosophy seeks to explain, art seeks to reveal. By returning again and again to children and parenting, Tremblay joins a lineage of artists who use story to remind us of the weight and wonder of family. Whether showing the terror of losing a child, the burden of protecting one, or the quiet strength of a parent’s sacrifice, these works awaken emotions we all share, no matter our age or station. Art, in this sense, becomes the mirror of humanity’s most sacred bond.

The lesson for us is this: when certain themes return to us again and again, we must listen to them, even if we cannot fully explain why. The mysteries that draw us are often the ones that reveal the deepest truths about who we are. For parents, this may mean paying attention to the way stories of children stir your heart. For artists, this may mean honoring the themes that continually call to you, even if their reason is hidden. In following these threads, you may uncover wisdom that words alone cannot capture.

Practical actions may follow: parents and storytellers alike should create space for reflection. Ask yourself what draws your heart, even if you cannot name it. Speak to your children, read to them, and watch how their presence reshapes your understanding of the world. And if you are an artist, allow your craft to pursue the themes that return again and again to your imagination — for they are the keys to truths larger than yourself.

So let Tremblay’s words be remembered as a reminder that children and parenting are not simply topics, but eternal callings. They are mysteries that pull at the soul of every artist and every parent, because they are the essence of life itself — beginnings, endings, sacrifice, love, and the fragile yet unbreakable bond that ties one generation to the next. To be drawn to them is to be drawn to the heart of humanity. And though we may not always explain it, we must honor it, for in that mystery lies our greatest truth.