From the Compost Heap header. A pencil style illustration of a compost heap with flowers and plants growing around it. A bee buzzes by and a white rabbit hops by.
  • Do you hear that lightbulb buzzing? 😣

    Did you know that most people don’t notice the feeling of clothing tags?

    I used to think that everyone felt the same itchy irritation I did, and that I was just worse at coping.

    But, when I started researching sensory processing to support my own child, I learned something life shattering.

    I wasn’t worse at coping.

    I was experiencing the world differently.

    Sensory modulation is the brain’s way of balancing sensory input.

    Consider how a pupil dilates or constricts to let in the right amount of light. Brains can change the intensity at which we experience sensations. They turn down senses evaluated as “unimportant” so you can better focus on a single input.

    This isn’t a conscious choice. It is something that happens for most people with the same ease as a pupil dilating when you step into a dark room.

    If you’re listening to someone, you probably don’t need to feel that clothing tag in the back of your shirt, to hear the lightbulb buzzing, or to taste the perfume of the person next to you.

    Due to sensory modulation most brains wouldn’t even feel those things.

    Meanwhile, neurodivergent brains may feel things so intensely that we can’t hear what the person next to us is saying. Or we may hear them, but it is a struggle that leaves us overstimulated and exhausted.

    Our brains are simply processing much more information.

    Check out this brain scan of an autistic brain (left) versus a non autistic brain (right).

    Two brain scans. The one on the left is a rainbow web reaching into all areas of the brain. The image on the right is a rainbow ribbon traveling along the language center of the brain.
    Image Credit: schneider lab §

    These scans were taken while the participants were processing spoken language. The non autistic brain is using sensory modulation to focus on the speaker’s voice. While the autistic brain is taking in lots of additional information.

    This is why “exposure therapy” is not appropriate for neurodivergence.

    Our brains are simply working differently.

    Different isn’t bad.

    Even if some people want us to believe so.

    Brains with sensory processing differences can observe connections that others can’t. This is a unique skill set to bring to problem solving, art, science, and activism.

    The world needs neurodivergent brains.

    And we all need to better understand them.

    That’s why I teamed up with Gracie Klumpp to co-create a picture book about neurodivergence and sensory modulation. This is the book we wish that we’d had as autistic kids.

    Cover Reveal!

    We’re so excited to reveal the cover design and open preorders for paperbacks!

    We’re in the final stages of copy editing and proofing and can’t wait to share this with you. Books will arrive this summer!

    How it Feels to Me book cover by Sarah Shotts and Gracie Klumpp. Shows a child with hands raised and a rainbow collage of objects shown above.

    I’ve had a lot of messages tentatively asked me if this book could also help adults.

    So let me say it loud and clear… YES!

    We believe picture books are for everyone and welcome readers of ALL AGES.

    Support needs are not something you outgrow.

    This is something Gracie indicates beautifully by including adults, teens, and children in the illustrations.

    A plus sized adult dances onstage while another peeks out from backstage surrounded by a collage of butterflies. The text reads: We each experience the world differently. This is called neurodiversity. We each see, hear, smell, taste, and feel things in our own way.
    This spread shows sensory supports like sunglasses, safe foods, extra space, removing clothing tags, and extra time.

    If you’d like to support the project you can also donate a copy and we’ll find your book a home (like a library, school, or with a neurodivergent family.)

    Illustrated spread featuring a rainbow infinity symbol and characters who appear to be scientist, artist, astronaut and comedian.

    Seeking blurbs.

    We want to partner with educators, writers, occupational therapists, speech therapists, neurodivergent adults, and affirming mental health professionals to read the book and consider writing a blurb (a short quote) for marketing materials.

    I’m also in the early stages of building a launch team to help spread the word.

    If you’re interested (or know someone who might be) send me an email.

    Much love to everyone who has supported the project so far.

    We appreciate you.

    Sarah signed with a swoopy S

    P.S. I have a whole library of resources about autism and neurodivergence.

    There are blog posts, podcasts, and visuals like this sensory overload video.


    footnotes

    § Brain Scan images via Schneider Lab

    Read more: Do you hear that lightbulb buzzing? 😣
  • Brain Fog ☁️

    I’m entering my 7th year of parenting.

    How did that happen?

    Within a year of giving birth I started making art to process my experience. That was the beginning of This is My Brain on Motherhood.

    Seven years later, I think I’ve fully integrated the identity of parent.*

    Which means I’d like to complete this collection, celebrate it somehow, and then move on to making art on other themes (like neurodivergence or perhaps chronic illness.)

    Gold scissors and baby clothes on a blue blanket

    One of the pieces I’ve struggled to complete is a soft sculpture brain made with baby clothes. From the first little brain noodle (the white washcloth center of the left hemisphere) I had the vision.†

    But sewing through layers of fabric is hard on the hands and pretty quickly I had split my skin and it was too painful to continue. I finally realized the easy injury and slow healing was due to a connective tissue disorder (more on that soon).

    I tried every thimble under the sun and none of them were dexterous enough to give me the fine motor control I wanted. I put the project down for months on end and picked it up a bit here and there – always ending up a little worse for wear after working on it.

    Eventually I discovered the needle puller from Mx. Domestic (in action above!) and was able to sew the second hemisphere of the brain.

    But I still felt stuck. It took a while to realize why. The form was coming together, but I was lost on its purpose. I still had no clarity on what the brain was meant to represent.

    It all felt a little too sentimental to be fine art, but too weird to not be.

    Sometimes my art begins with a concept I want to represent. Other times I start with the form first and find the meaning during the process.

    Workspace with sewing machine, scissors, chunky yard, and a baby sock which has been cut in half lengthwise.

    Least week, I saw an upcoming deadline for a project about chronic illness. And I suddenly realized, with a few changes, this piece has the potential to represent brain fog. A symptom of new motherhood and hEDS (one of my new chronic illness diagnosis’.)

    Instead of a complete brain my vision is now for half wool roving to spill out representing brain fog.

    Ending with this piece feels very full circle.

    It wasn’t my first work about motherhood, but was certainly one of the earliest. This piece held space for me to reflect as I sewed scraps of newborn onesies, toddler tees, and tiny socks.

    Having a connection to chronic illness – a theme I’d like to explore next – feels right. Perhaps this will even be a work that belongs in both collections.

    Blue sewing kit on a desk covered with snippets of chunky yarn encased in scraps of baby clothes.

    This is My Brain on Motherhood was created as part of my Artist’s Residency in Motherhood. ARIM is a free open source framework anyone can participate in created by interdisciplinary artist Lenka Clayton.

    I’ve intended to write a blog post about ARIM for oh, six or seven years. At this point I’ll probably give it a few months and write a full retrospective.

    This body of work was created with the intention of eventually hosting a solo art show. A pop up where I hung my art in my house and invited a handful of friends over to see it.

    Little did I know my art would travel to galleries across the U.S. and even be exhibited in New York City.

    I have other visions now, for celebrating the collection virtually, in a form that isn’t geographically limited.

    But I’m still working out the details.

    Would you be interested in…

    • “This is My Brain on Motherhood” art book / monograph
    • set of postcards
    • art prints
    • virtual artist talk

    If so hit reply and let me know!

    This project would be slotted for autumn or winter (after the summer book launch for How it Feels to Me.)

    Soft sculpture of a brain made from baby clothes. One hemisphere is sewn from baby socks, onesies and washclothes. Scraps sit on a wooden table to the side.

    I’ll be back next week with more neurodiversity chat.

    Perhaps literally! I’ve been working on a new podcasting set up.

    If there’s a topic you’d like me to cover send me a note and let me know.

    Thanks always for your support.

    Cheers,

    Sarah signed with a swoopy S

    FOOTNOTES

    * I knew autistics struggled with transitions, but this was one heck of a transition. I did NOT expect it would take this long to exit “crisis mode” and feel like I’m a person again. Nevertheless, I’m glad that making these pieces and creating Entwined & Ember were portals for me to explore the identities of mother and parent and what they means for me.

    † Shoutout to Mindy Sue Meyers for hosting the soft sculpture workshop and for encouraging me – even when I completely ignored her instructions and took things in my own direction.

    Read more: Brain Fog ☁️
  • Gardening Resources

    How to Plant Your First Garden 🌱 via Dark Properties

    Advice for Starting No Dig 🥕 via Charles Dowding

    Find Your Last Frost Date ❄️ via Almanac.com

    Read more: untitled post 156078847
  • Fiction has an incredible transformative power. Just because it is quiet and gentle and mostly invisible to the eye does not mean it is not there, this inner strength.

    Elif Shafak

    Source: Fiction changes us from within.

    Read more: untitled post 156078842
  • “I feel really lucky that I had some good role models of people who seemed to be devoted parents and artists at the same time. I don’t think I needed so much to know how they did it — it seems impossible to generalize how one does it, because everyone’s context/family/situation is so wildly different — it was just enough to know that it could be done, that it was possible to be a decent parent and a decent artist at the same time, and that, maybe, being good at one could even help you be better at the other.”

    Austin Kleon

    Read more: untitled post 156078309
  • I’ve had a tab open for kening zhu’s post about rituals vs. sprints for nearly a month. It reminds me about something Katherine May once said on a podcast* about the cycle of neurodivergent hyperfocus and recovery. Versus a neurotypical ideal of consistency. It’s something I am still figuring out. Having experienced burn out I find I need to be careful of flying too close to the sun. But trying to force a structure that doesn’t align with my capacity is also not right. I’d love to hear other thoughts on this.

    * I can’t seem to find the podcast episode I’m talking about. 🤦

    Read more: untitled post 156078307
  • “a conscious choice to be happy is a form of resistance…”

    “You’re allowed to cultivate joy. In fact, you need to, because our job is to build the world that we want.”

    AOC via Amelia Greenhall

    Read more: untitled post 156078303
  • “I believe in the core of my being is that art can help reach people where political rhetoric and facts can’t. There’s something magical about identifying with a fictional character, or getting swept up in a story, or just being shocked by a piece of weird art into seeing things in a different way.”

    Charlie Jane Anders

    Read more: untitled post 156078301
  • “How can queer art help us to survive, and maybe even fight back, during this bloody awful moment in history?

    I’ve been asking myself some version of this question non-stop for ages, but I still don’t have any clear answers. What I do have is a bone-deep sense that we need to be twice as wild, twice as flagrantly ourselves — and at least three times as experimental, honest, and weird as before.”

    Charlie Jane Anders

    Read more: untitled post 156078299
  • “The best time to establish alternative, non-algorithmic networks of communication & affinity was five years ago.

    The second best time is today!”

    Robin Sloan

    Read more: untitled post 156078297