ADHD Artist Creative Process | Neurodivergent Watercolour Painting

For most of my adult life, I thought my scattered attention was a creative curse. Ideas would spark and fade before I could catch them. I'd start three paintings in one afternoon and finish none. The art world seemed built for steady, methodical workers—not minds that ping-ponged between inspiration and distraction.

My ADHD diagnosis at thirty-two wasn't a shock, but it was a revelation. Suddenly, the way I worked—in intense bursts, with music playing, switching between projects—wasn't a character flaw. It was just how my brain operated. And once I stopped fighting it, something remarkable happened.

"What I once saw as scattered focus, I now recognize as the ability to hold multiple creative threads at once."

Watercolor, it turns out, is the perfect medium for a neurodivergent mind. It rewards quick decisions and spontaneous marks. It thrives on the energy of momentum. When I'm in flow state—that magical place where ADHD hyperfocus meets artistic passion—I can paint for hours without noticing time pass.

My workspace reflects this reality. Instead of one neat easel, I have three paintings going at any time. While one dries, I'm working on another. When inspiration strikes for a different subject, I follow it. This isn't chaos—it's orchestrated productivity that works with my brain, not against it.

ADHD gives me pattern recognition that helps me see connections others miss. It fuels the intensity and passion that collectors say they feel in my work. The art world is slowly waking up to neurodiversity as a strength, not a deficit.

For too long, we've been told to mask our differences, to force ourselves into neurotypical molds. But some of history's greatest artists were likely neurodivergent—their unique perspectives are exactly what made their work extraordinary.