Deb Jobe, co-chair of the AFTD Persons with FTD Advisory Council, was featured in the journal Brain & Life for the blooming of her artistic ability alongside FTD symptoms.

Jobe never imagined she could draw. For years, her attempts produced nothing more than stick figures—the kind that would make a kindergartener cringe. Ask her husband Jon, and he’ll confirm it: art just wasn’t in her toolkit.

Then came the FTD diagnosis in 2022.

Today, the 58-year-old creates intricate artwork that fills her St. Louis home with color. Pastels, watercolors, colored pencils, oil pastels, markers—she uses them all. A delicate rose, with pink petals. A cosmic galaxy for her grandson. A fierce dragon taking shape for Jon. Each piece represents something unexpected: a creative awakening that arrived alongside a devastating diagnosis of FTD associated with corticobasal syndrome.

“I’ve found a lot of peace doing art,” Jobe says. “It’s very calming.”

Her husband puts it differently: “Her art generates positive vibes. It brings her joy.”

The story began simply enough. Jobe’s sister-in-law gifted her an adult coloring book and some colored pencils. At first, she stayed within the lines. But something shifted. She started creating her own images, moving beyond the safety of outlined shapes into uncharted creative territory.

When the Brain Rewires Itself

What’s happening to Jobe isn’t unique, though it remains relatively rare. Bruce Miller, MD, FAAN, a distinguished professor of neurology at UC San Francisco’s Weill Institute for Neurosciences, has spent nearly three decades studying this phenomenon.

Dr. Miller is a leading expert in FTD; he is a member emeritus of AFTD’s Medical Advisory Council and the recipient of the Susan Newhouse & Si Newhouse Award of Hope at AFTD’s Hope Rising Benefit in 2024.

His theory? When FTD damages the brain’s frontal regions, it may inadvertently activate the posterior regions. The front loses control; the back breaks free. The result can be an explosion of visual creativity in people who previously showed no artistic inclination whatsoever.

“We’ve watched people who didn’t have an interest in any type of art become prolific in visual art,” Dr. Miller explains. A 2023 JAMA Neurology study that he co-authored examined 689 people with FTD, identifying 17 who developed new or dramatically altered creative abilities. Their MRIs told a fascinating story: reduced volume in the left temporal lobe correlated with increased activity in brain regions governing visual association.

Research published in the Journal of Neural Transmission documents a typical pattern: Creativity surfaces two to eight years post-diagnosis. Early works tend toward realistic representation—recognizable objects, familiar themes. Over time, the art evolves toward abstraction and symbolism, perhaps reflecting the artist’s changing inner landscape.

Scientists theorize this creative surge serves multiple purposes: a new language when words fail, a pathway to healing, and an expression of self that transcends the disease’s limitations.

The Window of Opportunity

There’s a bittersweet element to these stories. The creative window doesn’t stay open forever. As FTD advances and physical capabilities decline, the artwork eventually fades. Dr. Miller emphasizes why this matters: clinicians and families need to recognize and support these emerging strengths, not just manage the losses.

For Deb, drawing offers more than aesthetic pleasure. It quiets the noise. It pulls her into the present moment, away from worry and what-ifs. It gives her something beautiful to share with the people she loves.

In a disease that takes so much, this unexpected gift deserves celebration—and the time and space to flourish.

To read the full interview, click here.

For more information about FTD support and resources, visit theaftd.org or call (866) 507-7222.