A Muse's Daydream continues to explore misadventures that led to Wild Abandon art and my quasi brand of sanity. This story is from a past where my ADHD and my poor life choices met literally and figuratively with hitting bottom (or in the literal case, a large boulder) and how that led to the discovery of writing and art as a sanctuary and a reason to live.
For Friction Reasons
Listen to the audio, music, and sound effects while reading (or while doodling recklessly).
“ADHD, also called attention-deficit disorder, is a behavior disorder, characterized by inattention, impulsivity, and, in some cases, hyperactivity. ”
I’m not “some cases” of hyperactivity unless we’re referring to my mind which is often everywhere except where it should be, which is dangerous when an emergency brake is involved.
Let me explain. Several years back, I lived on a steep, boulder-strewn hill in the high desert outside of San Diego with an incompatible boyfriend for far too long, … and yet, just the right amount of time.
One December day, I returned home from buying some festive pink and green ornaments, design courtesy of Martha Stewart and groceries. I opened the trunk of my car and hurried the groceries into the house but when I came out, eager to retrieve my new stylish Christmas ornaments ….my car was gone.
This is what my eyes looked like:
Actual size
I froze. I stared hard at the spot where my car used to be as if doing so would suddenly make it reappear. I stared longer than a psychologist might warrant normal. My state of shock teamed with my imagination and constructed the following implausible stories:
- In the 30 seconds I was gone, someone stole my car.
- Maybe I parked it at the bottom of the driveway and forgot.
- It will be back in a minute.
- It was not back in a minute, an hour ,… or a hope.
I literally had to force myself to look down the steep, concrete driveway because a sickening dread pressed heavy on my chest.
I didn’t hear any screaming, a good sign.
I didn’t hear a crash, that’s weird.
I spotted it. Just to the right of the driveway, my car was on perched halfway up one of the boulders in the front yard.
Dramatization, not actual size.
Strangely, there was no damage to the car (or the ornaments), but more importantly no one had been in the path of my runaway car. Kids lived on that block. An older couple lived right across the street. It could have been horrific!
That I was relieved was a colossal understatement.
The artist part of my brain briefly admired the composition of Red Car Climbing Beige Boulder with Scattered Pink and Green Ornaments. That moment was quickly replaced by my decomposition of Embarrassment, Sadness, and Shame.
I called my boyfriend, he called a tow truck company, the tow company called the fire department, for friction reasons - if the car scraped against the boulder it could cause a fire. Two members of the fire department and one man from the tow company arrived. All chuckled in disbelief, HAHA… They had the car carefully towed back to the driveway, and waved good-bye. I wanted to hide
This was my wake-up call. I would be more mindful from now on so nothing like that would ever happen again. “I am grateful for this momentous turning point in my life,” I announced to the Christmas tree as I hung the ornamental survivors of Runaway Car 2005. I released a sigh of belief in this new chapter called Paying More Attention So I Don’t Kill People.
I wish that’s what happened, but it’s not. I didn’t kill anyone … but two months later, I came out of the house, and … my car was gone again.
I forgot to secure the emergency-brake for a second time. Again, thankfully, it rolled into the front yard, but this time it didn’t land on the boulder, it crashed into the boulder and totaled itself. I don’t blame it, I didn’t listen enough the first time.
Self-Loathing
I was totaled too. I was drowning in self-loathing. I wished some nice person would throw me a life-preserver and make it okay. My boyfriend treated me like I was an imbecile; I should have had myself towed somewhere else, … for friction reasons. I did not catch fire but I felt like an imbecile, and went inside to hide under the covers, and cry.
While I was under there, I started writing and illustrating my second book, The Awe-manac: A Daily Dose of Wonder, a book created with the intensity of someone needing a break not only from disturbing consequences of absent-mindedness, an emotionally abusive relationship, and deep self-loathing, but from the emotional wreckage that included cutting ties with a toxic family. A perfect storm for an escape from reality,
As I wrote and illustrated it, I experienced how writing, art, and humor could usher me to a sanctuary of sanity and then, resilience. I had a burst of visceral … self-like. My illustrations were imprecise, reckless, and inconsistent, because … so was I. Art allows for variations on recklessness. In fact, if you are confident in your recklessness, it becomes your style. It became mine.
"From the moment I held a box of colors in my hands, I knew this was my life. I threw myself into it like a beast that plunges toward the thing it loves." Henri Matisse said that from the moment I said "from the moment...", not me.
But I did throw myself into art and writing, not quite like a beast, more like a squirrel.
I still am compromised in other areas of paying attention, but the concentration gleaned from writing and art drifted over to paying attention to important things in life like the taste of watermelon in the summer, how music is medicine, and turning off the in the kitchen.
Writing and art became a reason to believe in myself. Finding a reason to believe in yourself can be a life saver, I assure you, it was for me.
In my Wild Abandon workshops at Omega and in Italy, the first thing we do is address intimidation, comparison, and high pressure expectations by giving permission to be human. Once out of the way, we are free to be kids, proclaimed artists, writers, and photographers - letting loose so fast (and recklessly) our work is filled with energy, mystery, and instinctive genius. And playful madness.
Join me:
Wild Abandon at Omega Institute of Holistic Sciences: New York
October 1-6, 2023. A week of immersing ourselves in Wild Abandon writing, art, photography, and good times in a forest in the Hudson Valley. Register here
Art Walk and Creativity on the Italian Riviera
October 14-20, 2024 Plenty of time to save up for gelato!
I'll be providing the creative part of a tour to the Italian Riviera. Here's the link to sign-up For all levels from beginners to travel-hungry pros.
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