Morgan Schafler says that perfectionists are people who “consistently notice the difference between an ideal and a reality,” and more often than not, have “a compulsion to bridge the gulf between reality and an ideal.” In her view, the perfectionist holds a kind of creative tension that contains an energy capable of creation or destruction.
The word Gestalt is used in modern German to mean the way a thing has been “placed,” or “put together.” There is no exact equivalent in English. “Form” and “shape” are the usual translations; in psychology the word is often interpreted as “pattern” or “configuration.”
My initial research into GCP seems to originate within the context of SLP who specialize in GLP. One SLP referred to monotropism in relation to GCP.
I’ve saved some quotes here, but I don’t completely agree with everything presented as monotropism in this paper. I think this is based on somewhat outdated research and a narrow view of autism.
“To a person in an attention tunnel every unanticipated change is abrupt and is truly, if briefly, catastrophic: a complete disconnection from a previous safe state, a plunge into a meaningless blizzard of sensations, a frightening experience which may occur many times in a single day. Following such an episode it may take a long time for any other interest to emerge.”
“For a monotropic thinker, if something does not work out as anticipated there are no alternatives available as there would be for a polytropic thinker. Instead of the projected outcome there is total disaster (Lawson, 1998). Total disaster is strongly demotivating.”
“features of the environment which seem obvious to people with diffuse rather than tightly focused attention may be entirely missed.”
Do we get stuck because we see the whole finished thing in our minds?
Is it executive function or is it GCP?
Do we struggle to find a way in because we are not sequential thinkers and seeing the whole is overwhelming?
Can Iteration be a tool?
The idea does not have to come out fully formed.
What about “rejection sensitivity?”
Could this be happening because we are reliving every rejection we’ve ever experienced? Does it also happen when we are already struggling with flaws (deviations from our internal gestalt) and someone points them out or criticizes it’s unbearable?
How can we rewrite our gestalts?
Can we make more space for imperfection, experimentation, iteration, and discovery?
I think I’ve done this with gardening and pottery and it’s all to do with who I learned those things from and how I think about them. Can I invite that sense of ease and curiosity into other pursuits?
It was Christmas Day and I was sitting at the kitchen anxiously trying to finish a weaving to submit to an exhibition about motherhood.
Here’s a video showing the weaving process. I made data weavings recording each time I was interrupted by tying a knot.
I barely finished and photographed that work in time for the deadline. Looking back that first weaving (smaller and less textured than the one in this video) wasn’t a strong piece and I’m not surprised it was rejected.
But the rejection stung because I was also told off for being unprofessional by photographing my work on a wall that wasn’t white. I felt like the art world was a secret club I didn’t have the passcode for. *
The next year I submitted another weaving to another show. No snooty response, but it still didn’t connect.
One submission a year clearly wasn’t working for me.
So my 100 Submissions project was born.
This was an energetic shift from holding each submission so closely to casting a wider net.
I managed 11 submissions last year and the strangest thing happened…
There’s some bit of luck in submitting the right piece at the right time.
But I think the real magic was putting myself out there without worrying if I had a “chance.”
This led to…
– exhibiting my art for the first time
– speaking at my first author event
– my first publication in an academic journal
That’s a lot of firsts!
I’m going to share this process – not to brag – but to encourage you to put your own work out into the world.
I meant to share this process in real time, but I quickly became overwhelmed at the amount of admin work involved (emails, mailing art, etc.) and I couldn’t keep up with writing Substack posts too.
Here goes!
I kept track of everything in Notion. If you have the bandwidth I found this really useful because you can resuse / adapt submission materials instead of starting from scratch each time. This way you can build up some momentum.
Submission #1 – NWA Book Fest
Venue: NW Arkansas Book Festival
Cost to Submit: None
The first acceptance I had was to do a book reading and signing at a local book festival (NWA Book Fest). It was a great learning experience which I wrote about here.
Takeaway: Author events are a massive energetic drain.
What I learned was I simply I don’t have capacity for book festivals at this time. This was a very short appearance and it took me quite a long time to recover. So paying to be a vendor for a full day (or weekend) event would definitely push me past capacity.
Here’s a clip of actual footage of me after the event. †
“Success” isn’t worth it if it pushes you into burnout.
Submission #2 – Carve Out Time for Art
Venue: Instagram
Cost to Submit: $25
I considered this application to be a complete shot in the dark.
I was stunned at the invitation to takeover Carve Out Time for Art on Instagram. This one gave me big imposter syndrome, but was actually a delight. This was one of the first acceptance emails that came in, but the takeover itself didn’t happen until much later in the year.
Before I did this takeover I pretty much thought “everyone who wants my book already has it so I should stop talking about it.” It’s easy to fall into this trap when growth is slow or nonexistent. Reaching people beyond my normal subscribers brought a breath of fresh air. I made some new friends who followed me here! *waves* And sold a couple copies of my book. Not loads, but it broadened my horizons.
Submission #3 – Stay Home Gallery
Venue: Art Gallery (Paris, TN)
Cost to Submit: $10
Next, my textile piece Maternal Mental Health was accepted to an art exhibition about paradox in caregiving. Here’s a statement from the curator Tara Carpenter Estrada,
“In Together/Alone, the paradox of emotions between “never alone” and “very lonely” felt by caregivers is given the spotlight. The societal devaluing of care-work places the responsibilities of care (and self-care) on individuals. Without structural support, a tension can arise between love and devotion, and resentment or anxiety— the need for alone time, and the need for togetherness.”
Takeaway: Try to align your expectations with reality.
Because this was my first time exhibiting art outside university I really wanted to travel to the gallery opening. The whole situation was confusing because it was a hybrid show. On one hand it was a physical exhibition at an artist retreat – so I had to mail my work. But the main exhibition was on the Stay Home Gallery website. The physical location was not open to the public and was only seen by the artist residents. So there was no opportunity to visit and see the work in person. I was a bit heartbroken, to be honest, because my expectations weren’t aligned with reality. But it was my first tiny baby step into the fine art world.
The next thing I knew I was being published in an academic journal. My piece, The Benefits of Asynchronous Friendship, exploring my collaborative project with
I have a lot to say about this one that should probably live behind a paywall, but I found this process very challenging. I’m an academic – my day job is teaching university theatre courses – but I’m a theatre instructor. (Not an autism researcher.) And I’ve never written for an academic journal before.
Takeaway: Academic writing = time consuming revision.
The challenge came from writing a piece that was “too academic” to be creative and “too creative” to be academic. The editor didn’t quite know what to do with me. They literally said, “it is neither beast nor fowl.” 😂
In the end, we decided to treat it as a creative piece, meaning I had to strip out the research I’d done and root the writing in my lived experience. It was a stronger piece afterward, but the timing couldn’t have been worse. Trying to edit this piece whilst also running a crowdfunder almost killed me.
If I submit in the future it will be a visual artwork which wouldn’t require revision.
Cut, Torn & Mended was an open call for members of Spilt Milk Gallery including a virtual exhibition and printed zine. I submitted my bricolage, The Mental Load, which I created as a self regulation process after publishing my first book.
The Mental Load / 2023 / broken toys, detritus of motherhood / 28” x 25” x 8”
Takeaway: Virtual exhibitions are perfect for large or heavy works that are hard to mail.
There’s no way I could afford to ship this piece due to it’s size and fragility so a virtual exhibit & zine was a perfect fit.
View the virtual exhibition or purchase a copy of the Cut, Torn & Mended zine here.
Anthropology of Motherhood Culture of Care was curated by Amy Bowman-McElhone, PhD and has traveled from Pittsburgh Three Rivers Art Festival to Dyer Art Center at National Institute for the Deaf.
This is also the only exhibition I participated in that had funding to pay the artists.
The work that was originally submitted was my 360 VR piece From Where I Stand. Once we started talking about the logistics of the VR headset the curators asked to show My Brain on Motherhood instead. It felt like a double acceptance because they considered both works worthy of exhibition.
I also learned that this work was not the physical object itself, but the video. This makes sense in retrospect, but wasn’t obvious to me until they asked to exhibit the video. I changed the details in my portfolio to list this as a video piece.
Takeaway: Video works are low cost. They don’t require framing or postage and are always “ready to hang” if a screen is available.
I have a few other video WIPs I need to finish up and get into my portfolio. I’m also keeping an old iPad to display works as needed.
Every submission was aired, but for me this submission was about putting myself out there and doing something for myself outside of my “professional” portfolio.
If you’re new around here I’m passionately dedicated to the Wheel of Time and have recently reconnected to the community. Last April I submitted a WoT Idol parody video turning Wheel of Time characters into Sesame Street style puppets. I wrote about the experience here:
Do you hear us… are you listening? was “curated through an open submission to members, without a defined theme, nor a selection process. All members were invited to have their work included. The process of removing the selection committee allowed for a more democratic way of exhibiting our artists’ works, free of judgement or censoring and for all voices to be heard with equal importance.”
For this exhibition, members were invited to submit two works, and I submitted Meltdown and Meltdown Prevention. It felt like a nice opportunity to exhibit these works together and both were included.
If you’d like to see this exhibition it is archived here.
Takeaway: Exhibitions and open calls can come in many forms.
The way Spilt Milk Gallery includes both curated and member exhibitions is a big inspiration in how I’ve decided to structureNeurokind.
Submission #9 – Euphoria Quilt Project
Venue: Instagram
Cost to Submit: FREE
When I saw this project by
Euphoria Quilt Project I knew I wanted to submit a block, but I didn’t know if I had time to make one. Eventually I realized I could utilize the crazy quilting skills I’d developed while making my gleeman’s cloak and I made a quilt square from textured scraps.
This piece will be included in a quilt representing gender expansive joy organized by Eliot Anderberg. You can see some of the squares that have been submitted over on Instagram.
I wrote the following about my square, “Embracing into my neuroqueer and nonbinary gender identity means leaning into the fact that I may appear eccentric. I explored that in this project by using the “wrong” side of several fabrics and improvising a “crazy quilted” design. Gender expression is also tied up in sensory experience for me so I also included some soft stimmy textures.”
If you’re new here and didn’t know I was nonbinary maybe give this a read…
Submission #10 – HNDL Magazine
Venue: Instagram
Cost to Submit: FREE
HNDL stands for Highlighted Neurodivergent & Disabled Life and is a “magazine featuring the work of creatives who identify as neurodivergent, disabled &/or chronically ill”. Give them a follow over on Instagram.
After such a wild run of acceptance I was sure that this one was going to be my first rejection of the year. You’ll notice this is the second work I submitted to a queer space. I’m a baby queer – only openly identifying as nonbinary, ace, and neuroqueer as of last year. So I felt some imposter syndrome stepping into these communitites, but I’ve been embraced into these spaces with open arms.
There’s something about exhibiting in NYC that feels like a right of passage. Even when I was packing up my work to mail it didn’t feel real. Luckily I had some friends who visited the exhibit on my behalf and documented that it was. (Thanks to everyone who sent me photographs and videos. You can see my work in situ here.)
“Through sculpture, the 13 exhibiting artists make objects that stand outside of normative interpretations of usefulness and conventionality, thereby expanding our worldview and possibilities for engagement. If queerness is an act of making things strange (or challenging norms), strangeness identifies potential points of rupture within social conditioning.”
Takeaway: Submit the maximum amount of works possible (if you can.)
I actually created a new piece specifically for this call, but when I saw that there was the opportunity to submit 3 works I also included Meltdown and Unravel. It’s always nice to give the curator choices.
Some people have asked how I know about opens calls.
The truth is by serendipity.
Over the years I’ve connected with a variety of artists with similar overlapping interests. Many of them generously share opportunities (often on Instagram stories) which spark my interest.
Huge shoutout to these lovelies who often share art exhibitions and residencies:
And Tamzen Bryantwho shared the local book festival.
I’ve also really loved being a member of Spilt Milk Gallery who hosted 2 of these exhibits.
I hope I’ve demystified the process and inspired you to submit your work.
I wish you the best in making work and putting it out into the world. The next one I’m working on is a piece about roots for Motherlore Magazine. And if you’re neurodivergent I’d love to see your work submitted to Neurokind.
It’s not scary. We’re all people making things happen.
Cheers,
P.S. I’m rubbish at marketing, and this has been on my “to do” list for over a year. But I finally made a new footer to remind people I wrote a book / have courses / love comments. 🥰
I’m a Renaissance Soul so I always have lots of irons in the fire. Here are just a few of the ways that we can connect. (Psst… comments and shares are my favorite. And they’re free!)
* We don’t have white walls in our house so I purchased a large sheet of white hardboard from the hardware store. There is a small hole drilled that lines up with a nail in Davy’s nursery where I often hang works to photograph them. I also have a smaller board I can set up on an easel and photograph in the backyard. Light is almost always the problem so I tend to use a tripod for portfolio photos even though I hate them. I also have a small white IKEA table I use to photograph 3D works. Here’s a peek at my set up. It’s a relatively inexpensive solution. If your work is small and lightweight you could probably get away with a piece of foamcore and a pin stuck in, but my larger works have needed a nail to hang from.
† (That’s Odo from Star Trek Deep Space Nine.) It took a lot out of me.
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.
I’m playing with the structure a bit here. Trying out categories rather than themed emails. I’m also bringing back some old themes long time supporters may recognize.
This week I’m sharing a sneak peek at a 360 VR piece I made in December. It’s taken a while to work out how to share this online.
UNRAVEL
2023 / VR 360
An immersive experience demonstrating my internal experience of motherhood.
As an autistic parent my brain does not prune synaptic pathways. This means to process information I often have to unravel a tangle of connected thoughts among sensory input, memories, and connections most people would overlook.
There are two ways to experience this work.
If you have the YouTube app you can experience this work in VR here. Just moving your phone to look around. Please select HD by tapping the cog or it will load super blurry. 🫣
Don’t have the YouTube app? Here’s a simulation of how it looks in 3D.
This piece was inspired by a piece of writing by Hayley Dunlop which reminded me of doing this as a child. It was purely creative play at the time. I later revisited this process in directing class when I was asked to “completely transform the space.”
Hayley’s writing connected this memory to neurodivergent thought patterns which immediately made me want to create this with Davy.
Working alongside him added all sorts of layers – both layers of meaning – and literal pools of knots (which were never part of my previous efforts.) 😂
Other bits and bobs I’d like to recommend this week.
Katherine May’s podcast How We Live Now with Priya Parker – This is a chat about gathering well and drawing the lines we need around different social events and communities. I couldn’t have listened to this as a better time as I had been struggling with the Code of Conduct for my membership program and this gave me all the confidence to go with my gut. I’ve also ordered Priya’s book (affiliate link) which happens to have a gorgeous watercolor cover.
We’ve subscribed to the newspaper for the first time ever and I loved this article about artist Thaddeus Mosley.
Waiting for a quiet moment to enjoy this studio tour…
I also admired these shadows.
Minor updates March 2025 to correct links and images.
But I was already establishing coping mechanisms. Because I had no internal chronometer to distinguish between 5 minutes and 50 I would prepare for every outing far far in advance and find myself in a state of limbo unable to do anything but wait.
This is effective, but is also a black hole for both energy and time.
People with time blindness tend to be chronically early or chronically late.
It’s funny that the same internal experience can result in two such seemingly different behaviors, but it makes sense. One approach to time is a rigid controlled white knuckling. A hyperfocus that saps both time and energy from your life. The other holds on with a looser grip and time slips away.
You might construe the first stereotype as autism and the second as ADHD, but time blindness is an internal experience shared by both.
Now that I’m a mother I simply don’t have bandwidth to white knuckle my way through the day hyperfocusing on time.
I cannot wait in the car for an hour. I do not have an hour to spare.
Not to mention the chaotic element of a small human who has all sorts of urgent needs that can’t always be anticipated.
How do normal people know when to leave the house to arrive somewhere on time?
I never realized I was working SO HARD at something most people find simple.
I was obsessed with planners a few years ago. I never would have described myself as disorganized, but this was down to the fact that I relied on a series of complicated systems to keep track of the most basic things.
Like what day of the week it is. (I’m not kidding.)
When Davy was in his human goat phase I gave planners up. As a result I’ve been flying blind for 3.5 years now. During this time I have learned a few things:
First, go gentle on people who show up late and forget things. They are doing their best.
Second, I really thrive with structure and systems.
It’s impossible to overstate how much having a plan helps me.
Structure frees up my brain for other things in a way that I can only compare to breathing oxygen versus being waterboarded.
I’ve been metaphorically drowning for actual years now.
At first I thought the lesson I was meant to be learning was how to “let go” and embrace fluidity.
There is nothing less helpful you could suggest to a human whose brain needs structure.
The last few months I have been experimenting with themed days. With one focus per day my nervous system has improved dramatically. It also seems to help Davy. (We are both the type of neurodivergent who likes to know what’s coming.)
But we all need different things.
If your brain needs freedom embrace that. Don’t let people shame you and push you into a rigid structure if that doesn’t work for you.
When we’re forced to work in ways that run counter to our neurotype it’s important to recognize this is legitimately difficult for us.
Life seems determined to deal out changed plans, external deadlines, and an ungodly amount of urgent paperwork.
When this happens we should treat ourself like we’re doing something really hard (because we are.)
Without a plan my brain feels like it is on high alert all the time just trying to get through the day. Imagine a tennis player bouncing with bent legs ready to sprint in any direction*. That’s how I feel without a plan. It’s exhausting. And I am far more likely to become overstimulated.
*I know nothing about sports. But we were told to stand this way in Improv class and I quit immediately. 😂
When our nervous system is on high alert we can help ourselves by:
providing sensory support (comfortable clothes, fidgets, movement, regulating environments)
seeking comfort (a cozy blanket, a favorite book or tv show, a cup of tea)
asking for help
finding someone to work alongside us (sometimes this is called “body doubling”)