Making Peace with My ADD Brain
I’ve always been easily distracted. A simple task—say, organizing my studio—can quickly spiral into an afternoon of flipping through old sketchbooks, rearranging supplies, or suddenly deciding that what I really need to do is deep-dive into a YouTube tutorial on some obscure printmaking technique. And don’t even get me started on procrastination. I’ve put off making art by cleaning my kitchen, rearranging bookshelves, and once, in a particularly inspired moment of avoidance, researching the entire history of fountain pens
As someone with ADD, my brain loves to chase shiny new ideas. It also loves to tell me I’m not really an artist, that my work isn’t good enough, or that I should wait until I have the “perfect” concept before I even start. Classic impostor syndrome, right?
But here’s the thing: when I actually do sit down to make art—when I let go of all the mental noise and just start playing with paint, ink, or collage—it’s like my brain exhales. I stop overthinking. I stop doubting. I’m just there, in the moment, responding to colors, textures, and shapes. That’s when the magic happens.
I’ve learned that the way forward isn’t about forcing myself to be more disciplined (though, trust me, I’ve tried). It’s about working with my brain instead of against it. Here’s what helps me:
- Starting before I’m ready. If I wait until I have a perfect plan, I’ll never start. So I trick myself into beginning—just ten minutes, just one mark on the page. Usually, once I start, I keep going.
- Embracing imperfection. Perfectionism is creativity’s worst enemy. The best work often comes from happy accidents, and mistakes are just part of the process.
- Creating structure (but keeping it flexible). I give myself loose guidelines—like setting a timer for 20 minutes or limiting my palette—so I don’t get overwhelmed by infinite choices.
- Tuning into the present moment. When my mind starts racing, I focus on something tangible: the feel of the brush, the way the ink spreads, the sound of paper tearing. Grounding myself in the doing keeps me from spiraling into overthinking.
- Letting myself follow my curiosity. Instead of fighting my tendency to jump from idea to idea, I lean into it. Some of my best work has come from unexpected detours.
If you’re an artist who struggles with distraction, procrastination, or self-doubt, you’re not alone. The trick isn’t to change who you are—it’s to find ways to work with your brain’s natural rhythms.
So, if you’ve been waiting for a sign to start that project (or finish one you abandoned), this is it. Go make something—messy, imperfect, real. Because the only way forward is through the process, one distracted, inspired, beautifully imperfect step at a time.
