Get Out Of My Head

Melissa sent me an email last night that reminded me of something Ava said the other day.


Ava's been in love with these "drawing pads" since she was 18 months old. You've seen these, you draw/write on them, and then you slide the button across the bottom and the drawing is erased. She's always had one, when one goes bad someone gets her another. (In fact, Melissa got her a new one for Christmas 3 years ago.) Anyway, the other night I went in to tuck Ava into bed, and she was drawing on this. I commented on her picture, said I thought it was really good.

She replied, "Sometimes when I draw, I imagine that there is a cord that goes from my drawing pad to a little man's printer, and that little man prints out my pictures and keeps them."

Wow. Abstract much? We introverted intuitives say things in a straaaaaange way. I mean, let's not forget my first blog post.

Melissa's email was a similar story about her son Gavin, who is an INFJ, an abstract introverted feeler. He said to her last night, "There is a yellow guy in my head. Kinda like pacman but with legs and when I have bad thoughts the yellow guy throws them in the trash for me.

Maybe there's a reason abstracts make up only 15% of the world's population.