Painter, founder, engineer.Bombay-born · Newcastle-based
Everything I keep lives on this page — the paintings, the recipes, the rules — and the shortest path to reaching me.
The story so far
1991
Born in Bombay,the loudest city on earth.
First, the numbers
An MBA in finance —markets before machines.
Then, the machines
Machine learning, then data science.First Class, twice over.
New York, as a teenager
Times Square stuck.Years later it became a canvas.
Pune — 22 October 2021, 09:06
A blank canvas,bought that morning.
09:25
Nineteen minutes later,a painter.
Newcastle
Three First Class degrees.Four live products.A wall of paintings.
One name across all of it
Mr ADHD —canvas, community, broadcast.
Collection 01 — The wallCadmium
I paint the way I read a market — in gestures, then in corrections. Monet taught me light, Pollock taught me nerve, Basquiat taught me that a canvas is allowed to argue back.
Lot 01, in the hand — drag to turn
Newcastle upon Tyne — painted in a university dorm room
Palette
The canvas is built in three weathers. A dense forest-green storm sits across the top, scraped back in places to let earlier reds bleed through. Beneath it a bleached horizon runs the full width — white and chartreuse dragged sideways, the calmest passage in the picture. Then the whole lower half opens into hot pink and gold impasto, and everything restrained above it comes apart: thrown skeins of fluorescent orange, green and pink, flicked black, small white knots of paint left standing proud of the surface. It reads top to bottom like a night that got away from itself. Signed in gold, upper right.
Details
Newcastle upon Tyne — painted in a university dorm room
Palette
Times Square, remembered rather than recorded. A teenage visit to New York left an impression of the place that had nothing to do with its geography: vertical light, everywhere, and the street underneath giving all of it back wet. So the picture is built the same way — a petrol-blue night at the top, a dark bank of buildings holding the left edge, and a fan of thrown colour rising from a single point at the bottom of the canvas like signage seen too fast. The lower third turns to ochre and gold: pavement under lights. It is the most crowded thing I have painted, which is the only honest way to paint that corner of that city.
Details
Leazes Terrace, Newcastle — painted overlooking Leazes Park
Palette
Painted at Leazes Terrace, looking out over Leazes Park. The whole canvas is one green weather system — sap and emerald dragged in a slow arc that sweeps up from the bottom left and curls round the edges, so the picture has a horizon without ever drawing one. Gold is thrown across the middle where the light lands, black flecks sit over it like branches, and small white rings float in the centre. It is a park, but only in the way a window remembers one.
Details
Newcastle upon Tyne
Palette
Three bands, and they are not decorative. The top and bottom are the chaos around an ADHD mind — coral and crimson thrown hard across blue, never settling, arriving from every direction at once. The middle band is the mind itself: the ground goes flat and quiet, and the title runs straight through it in one continuous white line. But look at what is happening in that calm strip — the line loops back over itself, crosses its own path, doubles and knots. The noise outside is only half of it. Inside the quiet there is a second fight going on, and it is the harder one.
Details
Pune, Maharashtra — begun 2 November 2021
Palette
It starts as two words sprayed in red across a white canvas, and then spends months being buried. Blue goes over it, tape masks the lower third, and the paint keeps coming until the name is barely legible under everything thrown at it — so it is traced back out in gold, refusing to disappear. Underneath, the finished picture goes quiet: a flat black band, then cool blue water at the base. The diagnosis is not the loud part. The loud part is everything that piles on top of it, and the work of keeping the letters visible is the picture. Signed with a small grinning face at the edge of the calm.
The making of it — timed from the photographs
The curator, inspecting his own wall.
Before any of it
22 October 2021, 09:06
Pune, Maharashtra
Nothing on it yet. A canvas leaning against a wall with the price label still attached, photographed at six minutes past nine in the morning. Everything on this wall starts here.
Nineteen minutes later there was a painting. Crimson pressed across the top, a storm of white and blue through the middle, green and orange arriving underneath. Nobody taught a first move like that — it was simply waiting.
Collection 02 — The machineGraphite
My phone has been in greyscale for years, and so has my editor. Colour is for canvas; code is for structure. It started as a profession and turned into the thing I do when nobody is asking me to.
Collection 03 — ProvenanceManila
Machines, then data, then the mind. In hindsight it reads like one long question about how decisions actually get made.
Click the stack to shuffle the papers.
Collection 04 — The atlasChart
Seven stops, three continents, one through-line. Click any stop for the full story.
Collection 05 — The reading roomSepia
The people I keep reading. Not influences worn as decoration — these are the ones whose sentences changed how I run my own mind.
1788–1860
German philosopher of will and perception — The World as Will and Representation.
Talent hits a target no one else can hit; genius hits a target no one else can see.
What I took
That wanting is the engine of the mind, and that quiet is a skill you build rather than a mood you wait for. He mapped the restless mind a century before anyone could measure it.
1844–1900
German philosopher of becoming — Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Beyond Good and Evil.
Become who you are.
What I took
Permission to keep becoming. Finance, then machines, then the mind, then the canvas — he is the reason none of those reads as a detour. The self is not found; it is built, and the building is the point.
Collection 06 — The tonguesVerdigris
Languages are the collection I carry with me. Two came from home, one from school, and the rest I went out and got — each new script is a new way of being a person. Farsi is the one on the easel right now.
Collection 07 — In progressChrome orange
Meets you where you are — so you can actually thrive, not just survive.
A specialist mentor, small weekly support pods, a planner that paces your week, and Claude AI 24/7 — for every university student, especially when ADHD, autism, dyslexia or anxiety make uni harder than the brochure promised. DSA-funded or £99/mo.
Launching September 1, 2026
Built different. Building anyway.
The community for developers with ADHD. Post what you're coding, show what you made, share the tricks that keep you shipping — the disk wall, snippets, and the monthly build-off.
Empowering students through mentorship & education.
Mango Minds — a Newcastle mentoring service, est. 2022. Students sign in to pick up where they left off; their mentor is already there.
Day Club Management, Simplified.
An all-in-one platform for attendance, scheduling, finance, staff management and reporting — built for day clubs and care services. Multi-club, client and staff records, reports, role-based access.
A voice that knows you, on the other end of the line.
@keyframes speak {
0%, 100% { transform: scaleY(1.6); }
35% { transform: scaleY(7.5); }
70% { transform: scaleY(3.4); }
}
/* murmurs at idle; spoken to, it speaks */Verbatim from this page’s own code — the machine you are watching is this.
Bringing back the things — and people — that drifted.
const seeds = [
{ x: 18, y: 62, s: 1.0, d: 0 },
{ x: 38, y: 38, s: 0.7, d: 0.6 },
{ x: 57, y: 66, s: 1.25, d: 1.1 },
{ x: 74, y: 42, s: 0.85, d: 0.3 },
{ x: 88, y: 58, s: 0.6, d: 0.9 },
]; /* embers smoulder; closeness makes them flare */Verbatim from this page’s own code — the machine you are watching is this.
Collection 08 — The wardrobePrussian
Fashion is expression, but a wardrobe is a system. Mine runs on the clock: the time of day decides the palette, which means getting dressed costs me no decisions at all.
Autumn / Winter
A wardrobe that runs on the hour, not the mood — and the case for making getting dressed a decision you only take once.
Photographed in Newcastle
Cover
Cover 5 pages
Collection 09 — The tableChlorophyll
Collection 10 — One hundred cupsBurnt umber
A hundred cups and counting. The collection started as a habit and became a record — most of them remember a city, a morning, or a conversation better than I do.
Espresso
A 1:2 ratio, pulled slightly long. If it runs before twenty-five seconds the grind is wrong, not the beans.
Americano
Water into the cup first, espresso after. It keeps the crema intact and stops the shot from scalding on contact.
Collection 11 — ElsewhereUltramarine
10 channels1,004 subscribers
Mr ADHD is the name I broadcast under — the same name that ended up sprayed across a canvas and stamped on a developer community. Ten channels, each taking a different part of the same life.
Watch
Read
Connect
Write to me
No assistant, no filter, no form that disappears into a void. I read all of it and reply personally.
Prefer email? sahilabudhwani@gmail.com
Or take a slot
Pick anything that’s open. It syncs straight to my diary and you’ll get the invite immediately.
Live booking isn’t switched on yet. Send a message and we’ll find a time.
