An Eidetic Mind (Photographic Mind) or Eidetic Memory III

Before I put additional questions to her, especially the way that her childhood traumas might relate to this eidetic ability, she wrote me one other story which is worth quoting.

"To me, daydreaming and doodling go hand in hand. As a cartoonist, I rely upon my wandering mind to conjure up and create a humorous picture for the newspaper. The XXXX is a weekly newspaper produced in XXXX and I have been its cartoonist for 20 years. Besides cartoons, I also submit short stories for readers to enjoy and over the years, my love of writing has become a literary habit. During the long, harsh months of winter, when the weather can bring out the beast in a person, I get out my pen and write up a storm. My stories have piled up like the snow .... and I have put my literary collection together in a book called XXXX. What I have accomplished so far has been personally rewarding, especially when I think back to how my artistic abilities began with doodling.

As a child, I was often reprimanded and rebuked in school for daydreaming in class and doodling all over my homework assignments. In my day, using one’s imagination was not encouraged. Artistic creativity in an individual was usually suppressed during school hours and class time was spent following the teacher’s rules. Being the little rebel that I was, I broke all of them and many discerning letters from my teacher accompanied me home from school. The common complaint was that I was preoccupied with staring out the window daydreaming and not paying enough attention to the chalkboard in front of me. Doodling was the next offense. My teacher was annoyed finding “chicken scratch” all over my books and homework assignments. If I wanted to doodle, it would have to be on my own time, not during class. My teacher observed all these things, but she failed to see the obvious; that I was a student with great potential in need of a learning environment that would allow me to express my artistic abilities. I was bursting at the seams with talent, but my creative mind was stifled throughout my school years.

As time rolled by, I was sidetracked by the necessities of life; finding a job and earning a living. My artistic skills were placed on hold and put on the back burner. Two marriages, and five kids later, I managed to revive the talent that was waiting to be unleashed. An artistic resurrection took place and years of stifled talent poured out of my mind and showed up on paper. Instead of cooking and cleaning, and PTA meetings, I found myself sitting at my desk writing and drawing. What had been stored within me came gushing out and papers quickly piled up around me. I became obsessed with my pen, as if my blood had turned to ink. [Note--She will later say that the years from 1989-96 were the years of greatest hypergraphic activity, where she neglected almost everything else for the sake of writing what she had "seen"]. I turned from diapers to my dictionary and my nose became stuck in my Thesaurus. A new reality settled into my veins and a hidden passion came to light. A literary world had opened a door and my creative mind slipped across its threshold. When opportunity knocks, one should open the door. The local newspaper in my town was in need of a cartoonist and I approached the editor in question. I displayed my work before his eyes and he hired me on the spot. .... I have completed two books and I am starting on my third; a book about hidden genius and the creative mind. When a human being displays artistic talent at an early age, that creative mind should never be stifled, suppressed or discouraged from developing an ability that is born and bred within a person. What started out as “chicken scratch” has blossomed and grown into a full time career for me, and I continue to doodle to my heart’s content.

Today, I face new challenges as a freelance writer and cartoonist. In June of 2003, I underwent brain surgery for a cyst that was causing seizures. My thinking ability, along with my writing, had deteriorated to a point where my artistic work did, indeed, resemble chicken scratch. My drawing became sloppy and my penmanship was nearly illegible. Nerve damage was interfering with my ability to formulate words, written as well as spoken. Recovery was long and difficult; having to relearn many things all over again. Being bald didn’t bother me. I was only concerned about being able to write again. Frustration and despair drove me from my desk; I couldn’t even hold my pen correctly and anything I tried to write seemed forced from my fingers. What was once a steady stream of words flowing effortlessly on paper had become a laborious task and I strained each and every time I picked up my pen. I worried that my writing days were over. Fortunately, my stubborn defiance saved the day. I refused to allow a disability to rob me of what I enjoyed doing; writing. Giving up would be like being stifled again. Along with my hair, a new sense of determination began growing within me and I returned to my desk. I resumed my journal writing, regardless of how sloppy the pages looked. I reminded myself that the appearance of my penmanship did not matter. It was the content of what I wrote that was important. What I was afraid I had lost never went anywhere; I still possessed a vivid imagination. My creative mind was intact; the cyst had not damaged my ability to visualize scenes and enjoy the pictures inside my head. Much to my relief, my eidetic skills were still on hand and my mind continued to capture life on film and display it on the theater screen of the mind. The visual world inside my mind is a virtual reality I live with every day. Compliments of years of vigorous exercise within the mind’s mental gymnasium. It is this ability to visualize that aids me in writing and drawing; as well as in many other areas of life. Although I still experience “technical difficulties” due to the brain surgery, I manage to produce a cartoon every week and share my sense of humor with my community. My artistic side continues to surface and when it does, I give it free reign to express the belief I have long held onto; that the imagination is worth paying attention to. My doodling paid off!"

Now, I returned to some more questions that had crystallized in my mind for Julie. The next essay presents those questions.

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