After being gone for a week and sick for another here’s a look at how it’s going. And it’s going to stay this overgrown for a while.
One of my chronic illnesses causes heat intolerance so it is what it is at this point. (I can do a bit in evenings, but can’t keep pace with the grass.)
The perennials that hold space against the grass are key. I keep adding more of them, but we can only afford to do so much at once. 🤷
I show this to not idealize the chaos gardening approach. It works better in some seasons than others. Between the heat and the rain the witch grass is currently winning. My main point is that you don’t have to be a perfect gardener to enjoy gardening.
The self seeded sunflowers are a bright light. They’ve attracted goldfinch which we don’t often see.
Unfortunately, this book is needed more than ever.
Harmful information is being spread by the US government categorizing autism and ADHD as epidemics. Neurodiversity is not a broken brain! It is a brain that experiences the world differently and this picture book shows how.
If you’d like to support the project you can preorder or donate a copy to a school, library, or a neurodivergent family in financial hardship.**
If you missed my last email I wrote a post called What is Autism? that breaks down sensory processing and autistic differences.
The brain on the left is autistic. we process a lot more information in any given moment.
I end the post with this footnote,
“Being neurotypical just means that your brain is processing the world like most others. This means the dominant culture has been made to support the way your brain processes the world around you. You are surrounded by supports for your neurotype every single day.”
This is a concept I’d like to explore further. It really turns the idea of supports on it’s head.
I’ve come to the conclusion I need to free up some mental capacity to really delve into this world in the way that’s needed. Turns out proofing three separate books for self publishing is kind of a lot. I’m being patient with myself. There’s no rush on this.
Here’s a peek at my writing workspace.
I set this up in the living room when it was too cold to be in the studio (and soon it will be too hot.) It turns out that extreme heat and cold trigger migraines so I’m afraid I am a fair weather studio artist. Accepting that my body needs what it needs means making spaces that work for me.
If you’re reading this in your email inbox you can just hit reply to message me directly. I’d love to hear what you think. It makes it worth the time I put in.
Thanks for being here.
I appreciate you.
FOOTNOTES
* I’m no longer digitizing zines. Due to chronic migraines I’m attempting to cut down on screentime. I wrote a bit about that here.
† What is a microblog? Basically a social media style blog feed that I archive on my own site. I’m working on setting this up to autopost to Bluesky. I call my microblog scraps – evoking both a scrapbook or commonplace book and also the bits of kitchen scrap that end up in the compost heap.
** If you donate a book we are happy to find the book a home or to send it to the school or library of your choice.
I think I’m finding my groove with zine making. I had a lot of fun going analogue this month and in addition to my typewriter I also incorporated collage and nature rubbings.
Therapeutic weeding. The front bed is overrun with witch grass because I wasn’t well enough to garden last year, but reclaiming it one patch at a time. Excited about our first sea holly – it’s a variety called Hobbit.
This is the first year I’ve been well enough to really spend time weeding the wildflower area of our garden. Years past I’ve let the seeds go truly wild and only pulled a few “mean dandelions” (you know, the spiky ones) and weeds I suspected might be poisonous. This year I’m enjoying sitting among the bachelor buttons and pulling up plants that are less desirable so we have fewer weedy seedlings competing with wildflowers next year.
When I started my year of making I had intentions for writing weekly updates for my blog or newsletter. Then the month unraveled, our whole family got sick, and I shifted into survival mode.
So I’m giving myself some Brownie points for being flexible (not easy for an Autie) and picking up the pieces to write monthly check ins instead.
The month started by easing in with baking and journaling and photos for Davy’s first (half) day of Montessori school.
Then I tried to calibrate my new Cricut. (It was a hate-hate relationship… in the end I returned it and used the money to buy electroforming supplies instead.)
And the second week we came down sick. First Davy, then the whole family. It was his first time having a fever for anything besides teething. The first few days I kept track of making soup and tea and macaroni out of a box. Then my own fever went up and it was all I could do to just keep us going.
It’s a tribute to what I’ve learned through motherhood that I was able to let that go and look back with empathy instead of self judgement. It was hard.
A couple days out from February we started coming alive again and I resumed my making quest. The final day of January was my first proper day making art in my new studio. I returned to an art project I started in February 2, 2020 and had been on the shelf ever since.
My takeaways from this month?
Sometimes you honor your inner artist by resting and healing. Sometimes making what you need for survival is enough. Other times you have the energy to pick up a long lost project and you stitch two timelines together through the metaphysical magic of time travel.
UPDATE: September 2021
I hid this blog post when I stopped writing monthly updates. At the time I was discouraged because we were sick every month from January – May and my year looked nothing like I had imagined. Looking back I can see how I did keep making (in small and simple ways), but I didn’t have the time or energy to document. Then in June (the first month none of us fell sick) my creative world expanded. If you’re finding it hard to create at the moment I see you. Don’t give up. Take the small moments you can. They count even if no one else is seeing them.
