Nothing From Nothing: Another Semi-ADD Cartoon

February 10, 2012

Here’s another cartoon that qualifies for an ADDict post. It’s been on my mind for months, resisting creation because I thought the drawing would be difficult. In time difficult segued into impossible.

I drew it in the spirit of my ADD-slowed Mr. Cthulu cartoon.  I realized that I’d wasted most of a morning — reading this, reading that — felt horrible, useless, in need of a remedy. I lunged into research, gathering pictures of Billy Preston and his afro, propping myself and my lapdesk on the office cot, and just drew the damn thing.

(JDTDT: an acronym I’m likely to repeat if I remember to repeat it. I should print it backwards on a t-shirt.)

I finished the drawing after a few hours, and felt triumphant.

I savored the feeling for a full thirty minutes before it sublimated into something more sustainable.

Picture ice. Me on it, cautiously optimistic, slowly moving, braced for the inevitable fall.

As it stands — even if I don’t — I’ll submit it to magazines (well, I hope I do — the submission will probably require another of those desperate, unplanned lunges.) If I send it to Neatorama’s Neato Shop, I’ll redraw it; t-shirt art encourages scrutiny —  magazine cartoons encourage brevity.

This just occurred to me.

There’s a second ADD connection to this post.

Some people believe that ADD is amenable to homeopathy. “No side effects!” is the usual brag. I don’t disagree. Water is like that.  Unless it’s a flood, or poisoned, or breeding mosquitoes; dropping roof icicles on your head, or filling your lungs with too little oxygen, water is a genial element.

But like oil and water, or me and parties, ADD and homeopathy don’t mix. Their paths never cross.

With this exception. Drink water. Lots of it. Wear the above-mentioned t-shirt. Pause to read its message when you pass by the bathroom mirror.

I’m not sure if it qualifies as homeopathy, but it works.*


*Until the slogan, read too often, begins to lose meaning. It’s potency diminishes. Fades to nothing. Much like water diluted by water diluted by water diluted by water. The t-shirt is homeopathic, after all.

Nothing to Read Here

January 27, 2012

But I’ve left a few comments at Addled, the blog with the title I wish I could steal.

Fuzzy Wuzzy Logic

January 20, 2012

I posted this at my Nobrow Cartoons blog, and then wondered if it belonged over here.

I haven’t produced an ADD t-shirt yet; not intentionally. But this one might qualify. If there’s any sort of logic to my thinking, it’s a fuzzy one; a never-ending flowchart of associations, where everything is eventually connected.

Neato Shop T-shirt

A Watch to Watch

January 14, 2012

I don’t wear a watch, which I’m sure has nothing to do with my ADD. If I could afford this particular watch, however, I’d strap it on; not to keep time, but to pass the time.

I Have a Bridge to Sell

January 12, 2012

I wrote my first post on December 18, 2009, having been diagnosed casually by my psychiatric nurse thirty minutes into my first visit.*  I was 49 at the time.

I’m writing this post on January 12, 2011.

It’s amazing — or not amazing at all, knowing me as I do — that I’ve learned so little in those two years.

I wrote about my learning curve in that 2009 post. I think I described it as a bridge that vanished over the horizon. It was hyperbole meant to console me — ADD is a thing of the brain, after all. By definition it should be human-scaled, and amenable to understanding. It was vast in the way that God is vast — really, really big, but still modeled on its creators.

All I had to do was understand myself. Map my mental genome. Produce a clean blueprint. Scale it up a bit and the bridge wouldn’t seem so daunting. Either the bridge would shrink or I would expand. We’d meet in the middle.

Two years later I’ve discovered that the bridge is no smaller. It might even be bigger. The bridge seems uncrossable. And what good is a bridge that can’t be crossed?

I look at the bridge between my understanding and acceptance of ADD, and where I stand now, and I still can’t see the other end.

I can’t believe I built it.

What was I thinking? I needed something like wheelchair access to circumvent the stairs of a non-ADD world. I didn’t need a planet-spanning arch.

Note to self: build smaller. Think Ikea, not Asgard.

*A more official diagnosis wouldn’t arrive until I’d seen my new therapist for a few months. I told him in our first session that I had ADD, or thought I had ADD, and I wanted to focus on ADD, and by the way, do I really have ADD?

To Boldly Go

January 6, 2012

There’s an ADD aspect to the cartoon I’ve posted at Nobrow Cartoons.

It’s this:

There’s a cartoon posted at Nobrow Cartoons.

I’ve been thinking about this pun for a long time. I’ve been meaning to draw it and send it to Neatorama’s Neato Shop (as a t-shirt.) I wasn’t planning to draw it today. It was on my list, but only because it’s been on my list for the last few months. But I was sidetracked by writing a long post about puns — I’m trying to post more often at my cartoon blog, as proof that I haven’t expired along with my career — and using the aforementioned cartoon as my example.

I did a few edits that lasted a few minutes that lasted a few hours that came to a halt when I reared back, grabbed hold of my desk to prevent further sliding (down the slippery slope of Time), saved the draft, and staggered away.

Good, I said. I stopped. Wasted an hour too many, but I stopped.


But I didn’t feel all that good. I’d spent two hours writing about a cartoon that I haven’t drawn because it might take two hours to draw it.

So I boldly went where I hadn’t gone before. Did a little research. Drew a first draft, scanned it, tweaked it, colored it, and sent it to Neatorama.

Elapsed time: 1 hour, 38 minutes. I didn’t redraw it. I didn’t let it sit for days while I revised it. I didn’t aim for perfection. I aimed to get it done.

It’s the weirdest feeling. Almost Lovecraftian.


Raised on Ritalin

January 6, 2012

I haven’t read this yet, but it looks interesting.

via comics alliance.