When I am described as having ADHD of the Arts, I can back it up. Here are two Instagram accounts. One is @patcoakley and the other is @thephotogardener.
I’ve been reading, writing, and using a camera most of my life. At various times, amidst my real-world employment as an Educational Psychologist, I took essay writing adult ed classes in Boston every Thursday for a year and a half, playwriting at Brown University, photography evening classes at RISD, Physics at Providence College, because let’s face it if you want to calm down, entering an entirely different world helps.
I ultimately had a play produced (much to the shock of my teacher) along with my first anxiety attack in 1985 ( and that was before the very very bad NYTimes review) so I realized the arts could also be dangerous. My self-portrait in 2008 shows you what an anxiety attack feels like to me. Anyway, my favorite award citation was from the judge of my 2008 essay submissions: He cited my “eloquent irritability”. In other words, he thought I could rip someone a new one and they might even enjoy it.
Well, he was right that I can be irritable and sometimes eloquently, but at no time did the object enjoy it. Ever.
This photo was staged in a parking lot near me amidst the global economic meltdown that rattled my retiree bones to the core in 2008.
In 2024, those seem like the good ol’ days.
I developed a “creativity” daily habit about 15 years ago to lose weight due to many years of insurrection against common sense. If I photographed fruits and vegetables, I ate them. Best diet plan EVER.
The Photo Gardener® is my portfolio of garden photography and related fabric designs.
Some of my essays and playwriting have been published or awarded as have some of my images but, in reality, a daily creative process is my only goal these days.
During COVID, I did a daily drawing challenge with my 12-year-old grand nephew that made us both laugh every day. His drawings kill me but he won’t let me post any of his drawings. I have no shame. Here’s one of my favorites so far! My zebra bum.
It gave us a daily injection of hope. Even if it ended up in the bin, a simple act of creation contains a sense of possibility not connected to ever-increasing physical limitations, narrowed choices, plagues, or democracies imploding. I highly recommend starting some type of daily creative practice that you do for fun.
I’ve recently signed up for Substack to distribute a short newsletter thingy with drawings called “Notes from My Bunker”. (Some of you know I did a weekly podcast of similar name in 2020 interviewing folks during lockdown). Anyway, you can sign up for what I call my illustrated bloviations. It’s free. Many folks on Substack charge a monthly or annual subscription for their posts but they, unlike me, actually do something to earn it.
How do you know if YOU live in a bunker? You bloviate so much your head explodes. Now, with illustrations.
