TDAH Visual

We live in an age of jumps. The eye doesn’t rest. Attention is no longer a river—it’s a storm of impulses.

This collection is born from that visual hyperactivity, that vertigo of images that never complete, yet insist.

“TDAH Visual” is not a disorder, it’s an aesthetic. It’s seeing without focusing, glimpsing without landing. These are the remains of a broken television, where characters pop in and out, dance, interrupt, and mock any sense of narrative.

This isn’t a video. It’s a failed transmission from the mind of someone who can’t—and won’t—look in a straight line. I grew up watching TV with antennas. There was interference, ghosts from other channels, clumsy knob-based zapping.

This video comes from that memory: an old screen that can't rest, unsure whether it's showing cartoons, a lucid dream, or a parade of symptoms.

I call it “TDAH Visual” because I’m fascinated by this way of seeing that never settles. Because that’s how I see, how I feel now. It’s a tribute to chaos.

Each character is an attempt, an interrupted gag, a failed identity. There’s no story—only bursts. Disconnection as a way to inhabit the screen.

I don’t know if this is a critique or a confession. But it’s honest. And yes, it’s funny too—because sometimes, the hyperactive mind also laughs at itself.