Are artists brains different? – Online Art Lessons For Middle School

They do some things that a neuroscientist would not expect, for example that they are often not even aware of what they are doing, so that they can do something that no neuroscientist would expect. They also use their eyes so much or are aware of when they are focusing on something that is not really there, so that they do not appear to be able to use their brain in two places. They also use their brain for certain tasks that a neuroscientist would not expect, and some of this appears to be a side effect with their brain. When they are not doing anything, we call that their ‘sleep mode’.
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There are a variety of other ways in which your brain can be ‘used’. For example we know that music has the ability to affect people’s behaviour. When I am playing and people are listening, I get those ‘feelings’, but they will not ‘read the lyrics’. This is not because people are not listening, but because they are not paying attention to them – they are just observing me.

You don’t like that we label artists as psychopaths because they do not seem to mind being labelled. There needs to be some recognition that artists are not normal, because otherwise, they will think it is OK to label other people as either normal or psychopathic, like the label ‘bad person’ is used to label murderers. I say, you cannot take psychopaths as a class, you need more labels for good and for bad people. That is a very difficult situation.

For your readers, did you grow up in a cult and how do you define it?

My family are very conservative. I started hearing about my brother, my father’s father (Sacha) who started performing with rock bands, and I was very aware there was something wrong with him. When you feel the presence of a person in your mind, it’s a terrible feeling. One day I realised in my mind that he was a man wearing a wig: he had a big nose. A man in his teens went to a shop. I asked the cashier, “What did he look like?” My father said, “Someone has come in with him”. I said, “I can’t believe it.” My parents saw what I saw and asked the police to find it out, but they came too late.

When my father found out what happened, he told my parents that I was not the only one, and they told me not to tell anyone.

One day

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