Sometimes I give the idea that I am “very organized” and have things “all planned out.”
Reader, I do not.
In fact, since becoming a parent I have very little structure and planning in my life at all. But what I do have is hyper focus. And I surf it like a wave whenever it comes for me.
Act 1
A neglected compost heap.
I had big plans for a garden this year. I made a calendar with what to plant each month.
There would be squash.
There would be pumpkins.
There was not squash or pumpkins.
We made it to radishes before my back pain flared up and the whole garden (including the compost heap) was ignored for roughly 8 months.
Act 2
Enter Papaya Stage Left.
September 27th
When I started paying attention again there was a giant papaya plant (tree… a baby tree y’all) and burgeoning cherry tomatoes taking over the compost heap.
I learned it was a papaya plant with this cool identify plant feature iPhones have now. I double checked on Google and surely enough it was a match. The leaves are massive, but if we lived in a tropical climate they would get even bigger.
I immediately fell in love and knew I had to make art with these.
I wanted to preserve as many as possible before the frost comes in and ruins all the lovely leaves.
(I live in Arkansas so it won’t survive winter, but I’m holding out the smallest hope it might regrow from the root next year.)
October 3rd
I tried to press leaves in the largest book I own, but the edges stuck and out and eventually crumpled up.
October 11th
I asked Nathan to cut some plywood to make a massive flower press.
October 12th
I layered cardboard and leaves between two plywood sheets and put two heavy boxes of tubs filled with notebooks (which we pulled out of the attic for another project.)
Hand for scale.
This is one of the biggest leaves so far.
Like I said, it’s trying to become a tree.
Act 3
Making it work.
I had 3 mediums in mind for the leaves:
Press the leaves to make imprinted pottery over winter.
Ink the leaves and make monoprints on paper.
Print the leaves onto clothing with fabric paint.
I may get to monoprints, but I started with clothing using a bottle of fabric paint I had on hand.
Results were varied, but I learned a lot about the materials.
I started on a pillowcase and then moved to printing olive green overalls.
This isn’t a DIY post, but I did learn that the best way to apply paint was a large flat brush and that you have to work quickly and thickly (but not too thick) so the paint doesn’t dry before the transfer. It’s also not the most washable technique. It will continue distressing with each wash so I will likely wash as needed using the gentle cycle.
October 16th
I printed two pairs of overalls and the back of an olive green chore jacket.
I’m wearing the overalls with my Gary Graham tee which feels full circle.
I bought this white fabric paint in 2021 after seeing Gary Graham paint a dress on Making the Cut.
I knew I wanted to paint a pair of olive green overalls, but didn’t know what I wanted to paint. Sometimes the seed of inspiration takes a while to sprout, but it’s always worth the wait. 🌱
After printing these they reminded me of the S. S. Daley collection Dan Levy wore last autumn. I fell in love with these looks on first sight so it was probably an unconscious influence.
I remember seeing the trench coat first and thinking “I want that, but with leaves.” Then I found the second.
This week I’ve been doing a deep dive into Black Mountain College. It’s definitely an instance of orbiting ideas as Black Mountain College and artists have caught my attention many times over the years.
This is my first deep dive and I’m fascinated that so many things I’ve been studied and been drawn to over the years: Buckminster Fuller’s visionary design, John Cage’s Happenings, John Dewey’s educational approach, Ruth Asawa’s interaction of life and art all converged in these mountains.
I want to really go deep this time as I draw inspiration for a new project. I’ve ordered some books, but in the meantime I’ve been watching YouTube videos.
Here are 3 of my favorite quotes with the videos they are from below.
“We do not always create works of art, but rather experiments. It’s not our intention to fill museums, we are gathering experience.”
And another Black Mountain College documentary. This one is dated, but has an interview from an actual student (Jonathan Williams), “What appealed to me immediately was that everyone was available to each other and time seemed to be no problem. I had left Princeton because time was very much a problem. It seemed almost impossible to reach the faculty who were set up to do their one lecture or two lectures a week. And then suddenly they disappeared.”
Jonathan Williams founded Jargon Press which is “predicated on this idea that there are voices and poetry being ignored which deserve to be heard.”
On his process editing / curating, “You have to do the doing.” “Being self initiating. I don’t sit around waiting for these people to materialize. I mean I go out and find them.” He ties this to walking and hiking and Black Mountain College.
Carolina Finds. “Black Mountain College: The Most Influential School That Vanished.” 9 Feb. 2022 (Accessed 11 Febuary 2024.) https://youtu.be/C7foVazThjE
Craft in America. “Black Mountain College, VISIONARIES Episode.” Jan 7. 2019 (Accessed 11 Feb. 2024.) https://youtu.be/IKnmWmQi5Ew
ICA Boston, Helen Molesworth. “Life at Black Mountain College: Learning by Doing.” 7 Dec 2015. (Accessed 11 Feb. 2024.) https://youtu.be/Mze1rtN1OXA
Craft in America, Helen Molesworth. “Helen Molesworth on handwork.” 22 August. 2018. (Accessed 11 Feb. 2024.) https://youtu.be/NxBZqA-Asvw
“Black Mountain College: a Thumbnail Sketch.” Produced by Monty Diamond and South Carolina ETV. Documentary, 1989. (Accessed 11 Feb. 2024.) https://youtu.be/G3xSAew7vEU
Over the last year, Substack has been one of my biggest creative outlets. I’ve spent more hours writing, podcasting, and engaging on Substack than anywhere else.
I don’t regret the time I’ve spent there or the connections I’ve made, but it’s time for a pivot.
If you don’t know about Substack yet it’s part blog, part newsletter, part podcast, part YouTube channel, and (most recently) part social media.
Last month they introduced a big change to their business model.
Their app, which was previously a chronological feed of long form blog style content, introduced an algorithm and put their social media style posts up front and center. It becomes increasingly obvious that they are going after the “Twitter market” and / or whatever brings them the most money. It feels like watching Instagram slowly become something other than a photography platform.
I’ve seen this movie and I didn’t like the ending.
My platform is small, but I made about $300 in paid subs last year. The week before Substack introduced an algorithm I had been planning to merge my paid tier with my creative membership program The Companionship. I had spent hours setting up Substack to host my membership program and course portal. And I put it all on pause because it didn’t feel right.
Something I really dislike about Substack’s social media feed is how poorly it handles blocking and muting. There are certain topics that aren’t good for my mental health that I continue to see. Sometimes I even see posts or comments from people I have specifically blocked. With this in mind I did not want to continue using an app that opened a social feed I had very little control over.
I deleted the Substack app.
And I’m loving it.
I’m back to experiencing Substack as a newsletter again.
PRO TIP: I use a special email address just for newsletters I actually want to read. (I actually did this the year before I joined Substack.)
Without the noise of the social feed I’m quite enjoying Substack again. And I’m less overwhelmed so I’m actually reading more posts.
But I am breaking up with Substack as part of my business ecosystem and I’m reframing the paid tier as a tip jar.
Here are the changes I’m making:
No more paywalled content. Instead I’ll send a special thank you card or letter in the mail once a year.
I’m archiving my best Substack posts here on the blog. (Like this one.)
I’m only sending out newsletters once a month instead of weekly.
I’m blogging again. If I want to write something between newsletters I’ll write here and link to it.
My membership program and course portal have moved to Ghost.org. Ghost is a nonprofit that has been around for a decade. I’m not moving my free list because it does not have the discoverability or user base that Substack does. But it is a completely private, algorithm free space that is perfect for a membership and course portal. It costs a flat fee of $9 a month and does not take any percentage of sales. I’m still in the process of setting it all up, but you can see how my Ghost portal looks here.
My free newsletter will remain on Substack so long as engagement remains high and growth feels authentic. (If I see too many spammy follows I’ll move the free list to Ghost as well.)
Right now I’m having slow growth on Substack and seeing new commenters who are engaging with my work. The comment system is strong and facilitates good long term discussions better than any platform I have ever used. So I’m not keen to lose that.
Let’s Discuss.
Are you on Substack? How do you feel about the changes?
Hyper sensitivity is real, but the term HSP dehumanizes autistic people.
…
Ok, deep breath.
…
I needed to pull you in with the title, but that may have flared up your nervous system. Let’s start over.
I’m mindful that I’m addressing sensitive humans.
You might find it hard to change your mind because it means admitting that you’re wrong. I get it.
I’ve felt that way too.
We’re all imperfect humans trying to understand the world around us. Let me be clear that I’m not saying anyone is a bad person.
But I am asking you to stop doing something that is hurting me, and I hope you’ll listen. My heart is beating like crazy while I type this, but HSP is trending and it’s only getting more popular.
I don’t think the sensitive souls using it realize how much pain it is causing autistics like myself.
I’m asking you to open yourself to the possibility that you might be using a term you do not fully understand.
Did you know the term HSP is based on the book “Highly Sensitive Person” by Elaine Aron?
I want to be clear that my issue with HSP is rooted in Aron’s writings. (She coined the term.) I have no doubt that you are highly sensitive and that your body processes sensory input in an intense way. I also remember the relief at realizing that truth for myself and reframing my sensitivity as a difference and not a character flaw.
The term “highly sensitive person” sounds universal and harmlesss. But unfortunately HSP carries a lot of baggage and pain for any autistic person familiar with this book.
Here is a direct quote from Aron concerning autistic people,
“Their problem seems to be a difficulty recognizing where to focus attention and what to ignore.
When speaking with someone, they may find the person’s face no more important to look at than the pattern on the floor or the type of lightbulbs in the room.
Naturally they can complain intensely about being overwhelmed by stimulation… but in social situations, especially they more often notice something irrelevant, whereas HSPs would be paying more attention to subtle facial expressions, at least when not overaroused.”
This passage alone expresses a deeply ill informed and outdated conception of autism. This is unsurprising because the book was first published in 1996 … long before the neurodiversity movement.
Aron’s views toward autistics are harmful and blatantly inaccurate.
Many autistics are acutely aware of facial expressions and may even be hyper empathic. *
It is a myth that all autistic people struggle with eye contact. †
When autistic people do struggle with eye contact one of the main causes is sensory overload. ‡
It is dehumanizing to judge what the autistic person is looking at or noticing as irrelevant. (Yes, we do notice small details sometimes! But it doesn’t mean we aren’t listening if we aren’t reacting the way you expect.)
This book was published in 1996. It is outdated and should go out of print.
Before we go any further it’s really important to start with this:
If you’ve met one autistic person you’ve met one autistic person.
If you know someone who is autistic you may think that you understand autism, but we are each incredibly unique.
One person may love loud music the other might cover their ears.
One kid plays elbow deep in mud the other can’t bear to touch it.
One person loves running into the ocean the other can’t shower because they hate feeling water on their face.
No single person has every autistic trait.
This is why we say autism is a spectrum.
Imagine it like a color wheel.
Each color is a different intensity of a certain autistic trait.
If you identify as HSP you may not identify fully with autism at this time.
That is okay.
You could always call yourself “highly sensitive” or “hyper sensitive” or even just “sensitive.”
But it’s not okay to call yourself an HSP when the term perpetuates harmful stereotypes against autism.
I read the HSP book long ago, when I thought I myself might be an HSP and not autistic. So I know the main premise of the book is that your sensitivity is a difference and not a disorder.
I agree!
And guess what?
It’s no longer the 90’s, and there is better language for that.
Neurodiversity
What is neurodiversity?
“‘Neurodiversity’ is a term that suggests the human race is improved by having a diversity of different kinds of brains – like biodiversity in nature, having lots of different brains in a society means we have people with different strengths who can work together.” §
If you experience more sensitivity than the average person you are… neurodivergent.
It’s that simple.
If you identify as highly sensitive you are welcome and invited to identify as neurodivergent.
No diagnosis necessary.
But… you might also be autistic.
Sensory differences are central to the autistic experience.
Many of us believe that our sensory differences are the root cause of all other differences.
Just look at these two brains.
It is clear that the autistic brain (left) is processing much more sensory input than the brain on the right (neurotypical.) Differences in sensory integration may be directly related to language differences, social differences, etc.
There are also so many autistic strengths that are never mentioned! All of that extra information that our brain doesn’t filter out as “unnecessary” makes us excel at pattern recognition and problem solving. Autistic brains notice and make connections that neurotypical don’t even perceive.
But you may not realize this because even the professionals can’t all agree on what adult autism looks like.
Did you know that there isn’t a fixed diagnostic criteria for autism in adults?
They are using a test that was developed for kids and the whole process needs to be reformed. New research is slowly coming in that validates unstereotypical autistic experience.
The field of autism is in flux.
Early autism research was limited to aggressive nonspeaking white boys for a long time and only recently has the field begun to realize the variety of presentations autism can take. **
If you identify as hyper sensitive I’d really encourage you to follow some autistic adults to learn more about the autistic experience and to do some more research on “masked autism”.
Whatever you do I ask that you don’t think of autistic people as “less than” and see more of a kinship in our hypersensitive (or hyposensitive) experiences.
Or subscribe for monthly-ish emails from me. I share my own lived experience and often write about creativity and neurodivergence.
As an autistic mum of an autistic kid this topic is close to my heart.
Right now I’m working on a picture book about sensory processing with autistic artist Gracie Klumpp. If you’d like to support the project you can preoder a copy (or donate one to a school or library) here.
FOOTNOTES
* Why so many women don’t know they’re autistic with Katherine May. Glennon Doyle’s We Can Do Hard Things Episode 220.
Reconnecting to The Wheel of Time has reminded me what creativity felt like before it got all tangled up in career and profession and entrepreneurship.
Everything I did became fodder for “content” on Instagram, YouTube, or (eventually) Substack.
I love documenting the process, but the frame of creative business definitely impacted the types of things I chose to make and spend my time on. This was particularly tangled up in “positioning” myself as a professional artist & author.
Certain parts of my identity got lost along the way. I’m in the process of untangling it all which I wrote about a few months ago: I’m not a brand. I’m a human. 🫀
What I didn’t share then is that rediscovering my humanity was largely tied up in a book series called The Wheel of Time.
14 Blue Wheel of Time Books (image credit: Juniper Books)
During my teenage years I had basically no friends my own age. What I did have was The Wheel of Time. I logged in to a fansite called Wotmania every morning and later on a fan fiction site called Silklatern. The interactions I had with other fans was the one place that I really “fit in”.
Navigating two degrees as an undiagnosed autistic took pretty much all of my social energy. During that time I completely lost touch with fandom and reading for fun. By the time I finished my postgraduate studies I’d pretty much forgotten what it felt like to get lost in a book.
Enter 2020. I had a one year old baby. The world was chaos. And I turned to… The Wheel of Time. I pulled the Eye of the World off my shelf and fell into a world of magic that I knew and loved. The characters were old friends and the story was comforting in its familiarity, but that wasn’t all.
Rereading the books awakened something in me.
A creative spark. It is no coincidence that these are the books I was reading when I starting writing my first book, Discover Your Creative Ecosystem.
The writing of Robert Jordan just has this effect on me. I love other authors and other books, but the Wheel of Time is etched into my bones.
Myself in a multi colored patchwork gleeman’s cloak at WotCon 2023. Thanks to the volunteer photographers at WotCon for this shot.
It’s hard to explain. It’s… ineffable.
But there must be some kind of soul connection to something in this story for me. Why do we love the stories we love?It’s something I’m really curious about. It always feels flat and superficial when I try to explain.
The Wheel of Time has always inspired me to create. I high school I filled notebooks and notebooks with world building. I made sketches of costumes and drafted stories and put myself to sleep imagining characters in worlds of my own.
I gave up writing somewhere along the way, but after self publishing my first book I’ve also started writing fiction again. I’ve been working on a fantasy story that I’d like to tell for the last two NaNoWriMo’s and I’m ready to start working on it year round.
Meanwhile I have felt the ta’veren tug (if you know you know) pulling me deeper and deeper into WoT fandom community.
It’s becoming an important part of my life so you can probably expect to hear more about it here.
It all started in March when I created a muppet style puppet for a song parody contest… an in world version of These are the People in Your Neighborhood. The first project I’ve done purely for creative joy in YEARS. 🤯
Fluffy purple Ogier puppet with large ping pong ball eyes, a wide purple nose, and tufted ears. Ogier are book loving creative souls and I feel a deep kinship with them.
This was in no way for my portfolio, content marketing, or even something for my family. It was a gift for the Wheel of Time community and complete joy to make.
I really loved the challenge of creating in a brand new medium (I’d never made a puppet before) and figuring it out through trial and error. I drew on various creative skills in a way I haven’t done since working on set and props during my undergraduate degree.
Almost immediately after finishing it I jumped into another project. A gleeman’s cloak.
Something I noticed about making something for me was that I didn’t have to fuss over setting up a camera to film or creating perfect process photos.
I wasn’t making this for DIY content. I was making it for me.
Because of this I worked for many hours at the kitchen table (much less photogenic than my studio) simply because I could cut squares or I could sew while Davy role played as Link from Zelda.
Multicolored and textured patches for my cloak. These are 209 out of 350 patches required.
I sat down to write about the cloak itself today, but instead I found myself wanting to share the story behind how it came to be.
The shift that opened up “time” for something like this. News flash: I didn’t actually have more time. I just used my time differently. I spent a similar amount of time last summer making this.
And the value I’m finding in creative joy.
Let’s discuss.
What would you make if you had a dedicated period of time where you couldn’t do anything productive and had to let yourself play?
