Can I come with you? Wherever you're going?
"We have art in order not to die of the truth..."
And now for something completely different.
This is the ADHD Teapot. I made it in a ceramics class a few years ago. I use it to explain executive dysfunction to people who haven’t come across the term before (and those who think of ADHD mostly as Hyperactive Eight Year Old Boy Syndrome).
So, most people’s brains are like a regular shaped teapot with a single spout. Let’s say that your time, energy, focus etc is the liquid you have in the teapot. Your executive function is the spout, that directs the tea into the specific cup you want to fill-aka the task that you’re meant to be doing. Spills happen occasionally, but generally most of the tea goes in the right cup.
If you have executive dysfunction, (a symptom of ADHD, trauma, autism, schizophrenia etc.) you have multiple spouts going in different directions. You can try pointing one of them at your chosen cup and you will probably get some liquid in there, perhaps you will even fill it right up (finish the task). But meanwhile, tea is also pouring out of several other places and not going where you want it. If you have another container nearby, perhaps some of it will end up in there. But quite a lot of it is going to end up on the floor and accomplish nothing.
And at the end of the day you’ll have filled one or two cups ( or sometimes not even one) compared to the five or six that somebody with the same sized teapot (but only one spout) has filled, and everyone wonders why you’re so bad at getting tea poured, and why you make such a mess in the process.
One day I’d like to spend more time learning pottery and create a really technically good fucked up little adhd teapot. But that’s a long way off since i currently live in the outback and the nearest pottery workshop is some 400km away. But I figure that for now, it might be a useful or interesting metaphor to somebody even in its rough draft form.
This post is the cup I filled instead of cleaning my house btw.
What I mean when I do not control the hyperfixation.
Colored Pencil Drawings
Instagram: ismael.guerrier.art
Edna St. Vincent Millay, from a letter featured in The Letters of Edna St. Vincent Millay
April, 1932 The diary of Anaïs Nin [Volume One: 1931-1934]
Dearest swirly brain,
I know that most days you hate yourself.
You hate feeling so out of control, so burdensome.
Dark fog and rapid heat consume every fold, every corner.
You want peace, or relief.
But dearest swirly brain, you are more.
You are a culmination of decades of feelings and LIFE.
Vibrancy and light and contrast.
You are always moving.
Evolving. Changing. Learning.
You are so wildly and authentically human.
remedy by Bob Hicok
You ever hear that old chestnut about how most people neglect the part of the story of Icarus where he also had to avoid flying too low, lest the spray of the sea soak his feathers and cause him to fall and drown? You ever think about how different the world would be if Icarus died that way instead? If the idiom was to Fly To Close To The Sea? A warning against playing it far too safe, about not stretching your wings and soaring properly? You ever think about how Icarus died because he was happy?
Musings and suchSHE/HER | AUS | ND | QUEER | ART | WORDS
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