I Went to Make a Mug and Came Out with a Sculpture, Again!
I thought of the idea to write this blog post whilst I was cursing myself, yet again, for not actually doing what I had planned to do and instead going off on yet another (albeit creative) tangent. Why can’t I just do what I said I’d do? Why can’t I just get my head down and be consistent?
I always have a long list of ideas I intend to try out. Ideas that have been fastidiously researched and planned. I have mood boards galore and a phone full to bursting with screenshots of images that have inspired me. I am never short of inspiration or enthusiasm to get creating.
So what’s the problem?
Yes, I am thankful for my endless curiosity, but it comes with a very big and unfortunate catch. It is completely uncontrollable! I have absolutely no control whatsoever over where my mind goes at any given moment — I am just along for the ride.
Now, for full disclosure, I have not been formally diagnosed with any neurodivergent “condition”, but given that a number of my close family members (including my own children) have been diagnosed, it’s not a big leap of faith to assume I am also a fully paid-up member of this club. If we want to put labels on it, I’m pretty sure we’re talking ADHD with a generous side helping of ASD.
How this affects me on a day-to-day basis depends on which of these two facets of myself has come out to play, but it is more often than not the chaos of ADHD that reigns supreme. For example, I am physically incapable of going into my studio and producing, say, a lovely set of 12 matching mugs. I will, instead, go in with every intention of making some mugs and come out with two vases, one bowl, a small sculpture of some kind, and probably something I’ve made out of a completely different material altogether. Basically, I cannot be trusted to produce the thing, but I will always produce a thing!
The Evolutionary Case for the Scatterbrained Innovator
This got me thinking, as most things do, about what it must have been like living thousands of years ago. How did people like me cope when literally everything you did was a matter of life and death? Our early ancestors didn’t have the luxury of just changing their minds willy-nilly. You can’t go out hunting and then decide halfway through to go and paint a cave instead. You have to see a task through. If it were left to me, we’d have all starved! Surely, the chaos of a neurodivergent brain like mine would have been a complete liability for the group?
Well, maybe not—not entirely, anyway. It’s possible that our brains’ ability to be distracted is actually more of a benefit than you would think. Let me explain…
For me, repetitive tasks are mind-numbingly boring, painful even, and my brain will want to wander. A bored brain, held captive by a mundane task, will start to ask questions, mainly, “Why on earth do I have to do this crap?” This question can then lead to further questions like,
“How do I make this quicker so I can get out of here?”
“How can I make it so I don’t ever have to do this torture again?”
“Surely, there’s a better way of doing this?”
And this, my friends, is how innovations are made! Just the result of a restless brain trying to move on to the next thing as quickly as possible. New techniques that are simpler or quicker. Or, even new practices that eliminate the task altogether.
From Cave Paintings to Clay Vases: How Boredom Breaks (and Makes) History
The first person who discovered knapping was probably an early human who couldn’t help but fiddle and was just bashing some stones together to keep their hands busy.
Spears were probably invented by a person who couldn’t sit still so decided to go and throw some sticks at a tree.
It takes a distracted mind to see an object on the floor that no one else has noticed and ask, “I wonder what that is…” You have just discovered obsidian.
Or to forget the task at hand and instead ask, “What would happen if I added this to that?” You have just discovered a new metal alloy.
This can also work from an artistic perspective. Imagine if you will, a woman, sat around a camp, moulding clay into bowls like her tribe has done for generations. The same shape and size, functional and practical. She is on her third one and is bored out of her mind by the repetition. So, she decides to change it up a bit. She alters the shape, maybe gives it a handle, maybe presses a different material into the wet clay to make a new style of decoration. I can image she might be told off by her elders for “not following instructions”, (as we all have been at some point). Or, hopefully, she is praised for her artistic flair — who knows? Either way, she’ll probably do it again. She can’t help herself!
Neolithic Pottery Bowl - Hull & East Ridings Museam of Archeology
We Need People Like Me! (Well, Some of The Time)
I think the moral of the story here is, as difficult as our brains make it for us to function on a daily basis, there is ultimately a societal advantage to having a little bit of our chaos in your group. We may need to be reined in from time to time, or given a bit of extra support from the rest of the tribe so we don’t accidentally unalive ourselves, but in exchange, we innovate, come up with new ideas, discover new things, and move the group forward.
So, I for one am going to give myself a break today. I didn’t do what I set out to do, but I did do a whole lot of something else—and that’s ok.
Laura x
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