Some fellow-nefnd—who posses the Asperger's trait commonly labeled: hyper-focus, which is sometimes referred to as an extreme attention to detail and also, usually, confused with the symptom lack of eye contact—are unable to exercise control over their brain's focus or attention the way neuro-typicals are able. Which, simply put, is one of the many reasons Autism is considered a disability. I may consider hyper-attention to be my normal, but I recognize that being able to switch it off (without closing my eyes or turning my gaze toward a blank wall) would be hugely beneficial.
To aid in my explanation, I provide this photograph. One early-Spring, first-covid19-quarantine, day-trip took us thru: Granville Reservation, Texas Falls, the Robert Frost Wayside, and passed a well-maintained roadside cemetery East of Vermont 116 or North of 125 (memory fails which).
The relevant point: I was driving over 35mph (60kph) when my eyes landed—for a half-second—on these light blue doors about 100feet (30meters) away. Because I can not shut off my brain's hyper-attention I became aware of the unusual (for the US) ventilation holes drilled into the doors and then returned my focus to the slight curve in the road. Four seconds later, I recognized we were passing a cemetery and immediately made the connection with the doors/ventilation holes leading underneath it (presumably they lead to a place for the storage of lawn care, snow removal, and grave digging equipment or tools). So, I turned the car around and went back for this photograph.
If the ventilation stars were pointing up I would have still made a mental note as I glanced at them; no choice—can't turn my focus off—my inner awareness, if it were a monologue instead of images, would be an incessant hubbub of chatter grabbing for my attention. However, short term memory would have over-written two regular stars as routine with some later, more overwhelming, images [like the flock of a dozen wild turkeys near Hinesburg or the road-sign to St George (I was in the process of creating that artwork at the time). The turkeys and sign made it into my long-term memory but not into a camera].
All it took, to turn a routinely-forgettable mental image into a sufficiently-overwhelming one, was the person drilling those ventilation holes to turn their template 36 degrees—thereby, causing me to spend a few seconds imagining foolish candlelit goings-on betwixt some weed-eaters, tarps, and a backhoe; a few minutes to take and upload the photo; and a few hours writing this explanation.
Thank you ventilation hole-driller.
more memorandums on mind and memory:
2 comments:
Hey Veach Glines I drive by here all the time and never notice the
stars were pentagrams. The Prospect Cemetery is located in East
Middlebury. I have a unique local trivia thanks to you!
I appreciate the appreciation and I also want to thank you - local Vermonter - for filling in the gap in my memory as to this cemetery's location, reading my blog, and leaving this helpful comment. (Please keep me updated if you notice any candlelit goings-on, now that you are aware of the 'hidden in plain sight' symbols.)
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