In her Netflix special Sunflowers, Hannah Gadsby has a tremendous bit about creativity and suffering. She speaks of a man who approached her after one of her shows and told her that she shouldn't be taking antidepressants; that she's an artist and it's important for her to feel everything. He suggested that if Van Gogh took medication, we wouldn't have the sunflowers. Unfortunately for him, Hannah also had an art history degree and continued to school him on how Van Gogh did medicate. He was prescribed Digitalis, extracted from the foxglove plant, that if one overuses, they can experience the colour yellow too intensely. "So perhaps we have the sunflowers precisely because Van Gogh medicated," she says.

The bit breaks down the romanticization of mental illnesses, disorders, and disabilities in the creative world. Which might look appreciative on the surface but is just as ignorant as denying the struggles of those who are disadvantaged. Van Gogh isn't loved because his paintings are 'a mad man's illusions' but because they symbolize the hope and beauty in the world, something he was able to channel despite his troubled mind, with great courage.

Trying to build the same empathy that paves a way for understanding, Mumbai-based artist Swarnim Moon uses abstract visual elements to translate the internal experience of individuals with dyslexia. His paintings utilize distorted and overlapping letters, vibrant colours, and textures that evoke confusion and misinterpretation, directly mirroring the visual challenges dyslexic individuals face when interacting with text. Working across diverse media ranging from crayons, chalk, oil and soft pastels, to acrylic, oil, and enamel paints, the artist invites viewers to contemplate the nuances of the human experience.

"These visual techniques are intentional: they place the viewer in a position where reading becomes laborious and frustrating, encouraging empathy through direct experience. Art in this way becomes a tool for fostering awareness, as it compels people to confront the struggles they might not otherwise understand. By turning these personal experiences into a shared visual language, the series advocates for inclusivity and better support systems for individuals with learning disabilities," he explains.

In his Splashes series inspired by Jackson Pollock's expressive techniques, Swarnim captures the tension between happiness and sadness though the explosive use of colour and abstract forms. The vibrant splashes of color represent the release of emotions; sometimes chaotic, sometimes harmonious, illustrating how these extremes are intertwined. "By navigating these emotional extremes on the canvas, I aim to evoke introspection and empathy, encouraging viewers to explore their own emotional landscapes," he shares.

Swarnim's art is a window into a mind that is a little different from a neurotypical one. Truly appreciating it as a viewer though demands some nuance from us. Dyslexia isn't beautiful and can be very alienating in a world that rarely accommodates learning disorders. It's important to understand that the beauty that is depicted in the chaos of a dyslexic mind is something that Swarnim is responsible for. His art is neither a gift nor a symptom born from the condition, but rather a display of resilience and true creativity despite it.

In his expression, which doesn't originated from the disorder but is definitely coloured by it, the artist creates a space that honours the uniqueness of every mind while also embracing his own.

Follow Swarnim here.

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Jay Pimphalkhare's Art Is A Visual Riot That Thrives On The Unexpected

Shubhankar Rai's Vivid Short-Form Comics Make Existential Dread Surprisingly Palatable

Indian Creative Anand's Cat & Alien Sculptures Reject The Hyper-Seriousness Of Modern Art