Papaya Leaves

A hyper focus project

Sometimes I give the idea that I am “very organized” and have things “all planned out.”

Reader, I do not.

In fact, since becoming a parent I have very little structure and planning in my life at all. But what I do have is hyper focus. And I surf it like a wave whenever it comes for me.

Act 1

A neglected compost heap.

I had big plans for a garden this year. I made a calendar with what to plant each month.

There would be squash.

There would be pumpkins.

There was not squash or pumpkins.

We made it to radishes before my back pain flared up and the whole garden (including the compost heap) was ignored for roughly 8 months.

Act 2

Enter Papaya Stage Left.

September 27th

When I started paying attention again there was a giant papaya plant (tree… a baby tree y’all) and burgeoning cherry tomatoes taking over the compost heap.

I learned it was a papaya plant with this cool identify plant feature iPhones have now. I double checked on Google and surely enough it was a match. The leaves are massive, but if we lived in a tropical climate they would get even bigger.

I immediately fell in love and knew I had to make art with these.

I wanted to preserve as many as possible before the frost comes in and ruins all the lovely leaves.

(I live in Arkansas so it won’t survive winter, but I’m holding out the smallest hope it might regrow from the root next year.)

October 3rd

I tried to press leaves in the largest book I own, but the edges stuck and out and eventually crumpled up.

October 11th

I asked Nathan to cut some plywood to make a massive flower press.

October 12th

I layered cardboard and leaves between two plywood sheets and put two heavy boxes of tubs filled with notebooks (which we pulled out of the attic for another project.)

Hand for scale.

This is one of the biggest leaves so far.

Like I said, it’s trying to become a tree.

Act 3

Making it work.

I had 3 mediums in mind for the leaves:

  1. Press the leaves to make imprinted pottery over winter.

  2. Ink the leaves and make monoprints on paper.

  3. Print the leaves onto clothing with fabric paint.

I may get to monoprints, but I started with clothing using a bottle of fabric paint I had on hand.

Results were varied, but I learned a lot about the materials.

I started on a pillowcase and then moved to printing olive green overalls.

This isn’t a DIY post, but I did learn that the best way to apply paint was a large flat brush and that you have to work quickly and thickly (but not too thick) so the paint doesn’t dry before the transfer. It’s also not the most washable technique. It will continue distressing with each wash so I will likely wash as needed using the gentle cycle.

October 16th

I printed two pairs of overalls and the back of an olive green chore jacket.

I’m wearing the overalls with my Gary Graham tee which feels full circle.

I bought this white fabric paint in 2021 after seeing Gary Graham paint a dress on Making the Cut.

I knew I wanted to paint a pair of olive green overalls, but didn’t know what I wanted to paint. Sometimes the seed of inspiration takes a while to sprout, but it’s always worth the wait. 🌱

After printing these they reminded me of the S. S. Daley collection Dan Levy wore last autumn. I fell in love with these looks on first sight so it was probably an unconscious influence.

I remember seeing the trench coat first and thinking “I want that, but with leaves.” Then I found the second.

Photo Source: Dan Levy

Wearing: S. S. Daley Fall 2022 & DL Eyewear

Fluctuating Capacity & Neurodivergent Energy Levels 💥

You know the film Back to the Future?
The whole plot revolves around repairing the time machine’s flux capacitor - the bit that makes it possible to travel through time.

While I was editing the first draft I connected the words fluctuate and capacity. My geek brain immediately jumped to flux capacitor. So I’ve decided to illustrate this newsletter with Back to the Future gifs.

Ok, let me get back on track.

Neurodivergent brains are always taking in more sensory input than our neurotypical peers. That means our capacity (our ability to do things) is always fluctuating depending on our environment and life circumstances.

Before parenthood I could pretty much always push past my limits. I had the capacity to manage a lot of things in my work because of the priviledge and flexibility in my personal life. I had time and space to reset and recover in my own time.

But parenting is an energetic and sensorial drain. Meanwhile I have fewer supports like adequate sleep, solitude to reset, and extra time to transition or complete tasks.

When new parenthood met pandemic life I quickly learned my capacity is insepearble from my supports and whether my autistic needs are being met.

(Can of worms, but capacity is often referred to by the outdated term “functioning level” which is inaccurately imagined as fixed.)

The idea that we have a fluctuating capacity to focus, or be organized, or get stuff done is often hard for neurotypicals to understand. When someone sees we’re able to drive or cook or talk to a room full of people they might assume we can do these things all the time. Or they may not realize the toll it takes on us before and afterward.

The smallest factor can tip the scale and drain our capacity. And so our ability varies every day.

One day I might bake from scratch sourdough banana bread.

The next day I might not be able to prepare any food at all.

A neurodiversity affirming approach means having supports and alternatives in place when capacity does not match intentions.

In the case of food that might be: batch cooking when capacity is high, grab and go food, healthy snacks, ordering takeout, or asking for help. Or in my case setting a timer to make sure I prepare meals in advance because I can’t cook if I’m hungry.

So I’m cultivating awareness of my own capacity. And I’m learning to make adjustments. This is incredibly hard and not at all intuitive.

Neurodivergent folk often hyper focus on something to the point our physical bodies melt away.

This is one reason we end up overcommitting. We take on projects when are running high on hyper focus and when we land in our bodies realize we’ve taken on too much.

Other times our environment or circumstances change.

This has happened to me with this project.

I had a vision for sending out book chapters every month, but that structure isn’t aligned with my current capacity.

Past me would have pushed myself into burn out. But I am learning to make adjustments for my current energy levels. Rather than seeing this as a failure I am trying to reframe it as a strength.

Often, especially for austitics, black and white thinking can keep us from even seeing the option to restructure commitments, take a break, or ask for help.

Bonus content!

I’m fascinated / obsessed with the idea that ADHD & Autism may be part of the same spectrum. Both diagnosis profiles are based on outdated stereotypes and external behaviors versus internal experiences.

Here are two neuroscience studies exploring how there may not be a scientific basis for separate diagnosis.


Discussion time!

So many of us found our place in the world by being “organized” or “helpful”. We’re white knuckling our way through the world clinging to those moments of praise and think that’s where our worth is.

Meanwhile we’re doing real harm to ourselves trying to maintain impossible levels of professionalism and productivity so we don’t appear “lazy” or “flighty”.

How perfectly neurodivergent is this Maria song? (Sorry not sorry for my segueway from Sci Fi to Musical Theatre. It’s who I am.) 😂

Do you struggle with knowing your capacity or managing commitments?

How do you know when you’ve taken on too much?

Originally published to Substack on October 7, 2022.

Intentional Inconsistency

Holding 3 years of motherhood journals.

The very idea that inconsistency is something to practice may fly in the face of everything you’ve ever heard.

It’s certainly the antithesis of what Julia Cameron prescribes in her book The Artist’s Way. (I actually love this book, but her specific creative process hasn’t been a good fit for me since Davy was born.)

During my autism evaluation the psychologist noted that I was an “all in” person. I was drowning in commitments and my evaluator suggested I try practicing inconsistency. I was completely blind to having that choice.

My brain only sees “do” or “do not.” (I would be an excellent Jedi Master.)

It has been a very long and slow process to begin shifting this.

That’s why I call it a practice. I mean that in the same way someone has a yoga practice or a gratitude practice. Inconsistency is something I’m actively working to cultivate in my daily life.

Because of this tendency I avoid “don’t break the chain” mindset like the plague. I’ve fallen under its spell many times and its pretty ugly. I could chain 300 days and if I miss a day its all over for me.

That broken chain feels worse than starting from zero.

My best defense is to embrace inconsistency. To invite it in.

When I was journaling as a new mum I was often faced with the option to sleep or to write. And, in my maternal wisdom, I knew that Julia was wrong.

Art is important, but sleep is number one.

Here I am three years later.

I’m celebrating 916 journal pages during the first three years of motherhood. (189 of those were using a simple daily check in you can download here.)

I broke the chain many times.

I chose sleep, and baths, and yes sometimes even Stranger Things.

And I don’t regret it.

Because I was intentionally inconsistent this isn’t a failure. It’s a win. It’s me taking care of myself and my creative ecosystem.

Those 673 pages would not exist without taking this approach. (The same goes for writing my books by the way. That process was also wildly inconsistent.)

So here I am with a fist full of journal inserts (it is pretty satisfying they all match, isn’t it?)

…one of which was nibbled by Davy when he was in the human goat phase. 😂

This taste for paper is part of why I found journaling time hard to come by. I’m writing more these days, but I still want to hold this practice with a loose grip.

How do you feel about consistency?

Love it or hate it?

Hit reply or hop over to Substack and leave a comment.

The discussion possibilities on Substack are pretty cool and one of the big reasons I made this jump. (There’s also a pretty cool app if you’re into that.)

Ok, it sounds like Davy’s waken up grumpy from his nap so my quiet time is all used up.

Until next time,

Originally Published on Substack JUN 17, 2022