The accursed blessing of ADHD. Johnny works across the medium of ceramics, print, found objects and the sense of evolution in all things, organic or manufactured, reclaimed by nature or stolen from and replicated in engineered form. The spiritual alongside the palpable. Do souls exist only in those that verbally communicate?
"What ADHD denies it equally blesses its host with. The sense of social inadequacy leaves time to find wonder, inspiration and tales yet untold in objects, shapes and constructions sometimes taken for granted in nature and often in engineering endeavours."
I see something beautiful in a shape. Some folk don't get it, family or friends often make fun of my weirdness, but as a loner l've learnt to find beauty, mutual appreciation and ultimately inspiration from the inanimate. Solace in the visually discarded. I'm in no better company than when I glimpse a natural form or a lathe turned attempt to borrow from the genius and beauty of nature. I'm captivated by the background of a photo, not the subject in the foreground. My focus refuses to be dictated to by expectations. What people don't say but mime prompted me to write stories back in my performance days. The daily silent blueprint of human endeavour sings to me. We reach for the stars yet yearn to prove to our gods that we can create a heaven ourselves here on Earth. We rebel. We are impatient creations in ourselves. We ignore the beauty of evolution as we strive for a perfection, we believe we can rush into production. I want to keep a faithful, grateful record of silent achievement, not busy my head further by competing with it. Currently, flight, faith, fear of failure and broken/tested faith, are the subjects most fluent in my work. Emotional evolution and how best I can express that in 2 or 3d forms. A thought process, be it linked to hope or fear, captured in time. I've a head full of butterflies and all of them designed with unique intentions of distraction from the task at hand. When I think to exhibit, I'm compelled to try and recreate in clay or oil what l've caught in my net that day...before it is once more set free to distract me from the hurried and sometimes ill constructed expectations of normality.