Is parenthood artless?

Bookninja points to an article that tangentially raises some really interesting questions on the relationship between art and parenthood.

One line stands out in Cyril Connolly’s famous memoir-manifesto: "There is no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hall."

Are they mutually exclusive? Of course not.

Parenthood is often seen as a messy, graceless fact of life. How could it be conducive to or the inspiration for the sublime that is art.

Art is often seen as a selfish pursuit; childlessness (and perhaps childishness too) is another example of the artist's "selfishness." Yet, art persists despite and sometimes because of the presence of children.

Journalism at its best has the same urgent imperative as a crying child. It’s pretty hard to ignore and it makes you want to help, even if comfort is impossible.

To what extent do artistic sensibility in a parent and the skills and changed worldviews of parenting nurture each other?

If parenthood changes the wiring in our brains, is the nature of art produced therafter also changed?