dedication

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This blog is dedicated to the three most special people in my life:

my beautiful, big-hearted baby sister and her valiant, generous hubby, and my most loyal and supportive friend YS – thank you for helping me eat better, look beyond my feet, reach out, live my dreams and keep on keeping on, knowing always that I am loved!

porous

Wet, wet, wet, soggy doggy day. Lucy and I are not happy troopers. But we are troopers nevertheless. If that makes any sense? Thinking about seepage… My brain is still in non-verbal modality, so here are some word stims, dressed up as poetry, (for the sake of empathic reciprocity between neurologies – we try to use common terminology?)…

wet

movement

flow

seeping, creeping, dripping, bubbling

slithering under

fabric of dynamic matter

burdensome smells

dark eloquence

purple

brown

dysthymic blobs

frothy socks

soggy paws

shake, shake, shake

cellular fizz

melding

melting

blending

bending

permeating mist

it tastes blue

looking for shelter

green umbrellas

boggy floors

pitter patter

breathing water

cold feet

absorbing through holes

in reflective cheese

tenalach

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Here is the food. Here is my Love. Here are some words. I am exhausted from too much verbal-social interaction. It isn’t that I did not enjoy my friends, it’s just that three friends in two days is more than I should’ve scheduled. I had a great time, each time, but my brain is now completely addled. I need to retreat. Back into unspoken communion with the elements. And with my non-verbal verbose Angel. Until then… enjoy the visuals.

fall asleep

head on lap

radiant warmth

paw in hand

touch a leaf

watery A-flat

silent song

velvet sand

no need to speak

walk with me

two step four

we understand

(2014 08 17)

 

breadful thoughts

I have not baked any bread lately. During my first year here, I was living on just one scholarship and I couldn’t afford to buy bread, so I baked my own. Not being a baker, I had to experiment and make do. I never threw any ‘failures’ away, everything was good food, edible, to be eaten. Since getting the second scholarship, I have been able to buy cheap bread, nothing fancy, and eat a little better. More importantly, I am now able to buy material for my art (a tube of glue, a ball of string, nails and screws – all these things cost money) and to save for my travels to present at conferences , exhibitions and performances (because travel grants only cover a third of all expenses).

Today, I was sorting out some visual files and stumbled across these photos, from October 2012, of my home baked bread. Back then, my little Angel was a little more polite when asking for food! I remember baking extra to share with one of my homeless friends. We’d meet in the mornings when I walked Lucy, have a little chat and share the occasional bread roll. He loved Lucy, and Lucy obliged by wagging her tail at him, and letting him hug and kiss her.

How time flies. I wonder where he is now. The last time we chatted, he told me he was applying for assisted housing. He was also worried about an operation that he needed to have done. I hope he is well, and managed to get that decent roof over his head. He is an old man.

I think I shall revive the recipe this weekend.

a date with Lucy

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Every day is a special day, another date, with Beautiful Lucy. Even the low days. In fact, Lucy has made every single bad day that much more bearable because she is in it.

Today was a sensorially challenging day. I am rambling now, I can feel the words just dribbling down without much cohesive control. It feels as if the gear box has broken and the steering wheel is spinning in my hands. So be forewarned, this is a babbling post. I am in incoherent mode.

I had to go to my art studio to get some work sorted out. We both dislike the bus ride to and from my studio at the other campus. I love living in this apartment, but I miss our old neighbourhood, and I really miss being able to walk to my art studio. It doesn’t help at all that the friendly and kind bus driver has left the job, and the new driver dislikes Lucy. He shows it too. He mumbled something about disliking dogs, but then quickly corrected himself by saying he is actually allergic to dogs. When he sees us, he gets out of the bus, makes a point to stand a distance away, and looks at us disapprovingly. He will not get back into the bus until it is time to move off. When we arrive at our destination, he quickly exits, stands away again, looking at us in that way, as if we were diseased. I make it a point to be pleasant, regardless. I always smile at him, wave at him and thank him. But it is unpleasant. Add to that, the loud music he plays while driving, the jerky movements, bouncing, and zooming round corners, Lucy becomes agitated and I break into cold sweat holding on to Lucy. She even slipped and fell on one trip. Continue reading

pleasant surprise

Today’s lunch was unplanned, though I had been wanting to tuck into some Thai tom yum noodles for some time. This particular brand from Thailand is the best of the instant ones that I’ve tried thus far, and it is available only at Asian grocery shops around here. Coles, Woolworths and IGA don’t stock this brand. Right, so you may well ask me, “Why don’t you just go and get it then?” The answer may be strange, but it is a regular feature in my thought life. I needed processing time – to strategise, plan and concretise the act. Especially because of the unique situation presented to me in this case, trying to juggle the internal juxtapositional projections of Self and Other. Continue reading

sedulity

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Ah, the benisons of a fruitful and sensorially tranquil day! Sharing this with my Angel makes the experience all the richer and multidimensional. When I am working, I do not like intrusion. In fact, I am unable to function in work-mode if I am not in a state of calm isolation. Having Lucy with me does not distract me in the same way as allowing a human into my intensely private creative mental, sensory and physical space. In fact, she brings the element of joie de vivre into this intense and intimate dimension. Continue reading

grateful

 

Tonight, I eat with a deep sense of gratitude. The pain levels are low, albeit still present (I cannot remember a drug-free-pain-free day in my life anyway, so this is good!), but I am able to enjoy the crunchy textural success of my latest batch of kale chips! More than this, I am thankful for having food to enjoy, a safe and comfy roof over my head, and an Angel in My Bed. Continue reading

soporific

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The combined effect of bright sunlight, clear skies and a surrealistic warmth on a winter’s day, with calm, tranquil isolation, no verbal interaction apart from the odd smile-nod-Thank-You when passers by remarked how beautiful my baby was (during our morning walk), and a deliciously satisfying lunch of lightly pan fried, thinly sliced beef fillet, buttered rice and kale. The beef fillet was a gift from Rick, which sat frozen in my freezer all week. I shared half of it with my baby girl, who gobbled her share up raw, of course. I did use the opportunity to do some recall exercises with her, within the confines of our tiny home. I even managed to entice her into the claustrophobic bathroom, where she remained in “stay, wait” position while I disappeared from her view around the corner, until I called to her to “come!” Good girl. Juicy, fresh, quality raw beef fillet does help, doesn’t it? Continue reading

Self and Other – a better way?

The video above features Ralph Savarese speaking about his research in the area of Neurocosmopolitanism – Autism, Empathy and the Trope of Personification. As I read this excellent article on the ASAN website today, my mind meandered back to this video and its content. The ASAN article is an excellent response to the study mentioned, about ‘normalising’ of autism (Fein, D., Barton, M., Eigsti, I.-M., Kelley, E., Naigles, L., Schultz, R.T….Tyson, K. (213). Optimal outcome in individuals with a history of autism. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 54, 195-205).

As someone who would most definitely fall into the category of “recovered” and “optimal outcome” according to the Cure-Brigade, studies such as these deeply disturb me at the most fundamental level of my sentient existence. Continue reading

magenta

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A magenta day. From the lovely flowers that caught my eye during our morning walk, to the cherries I had for lunch, and the filtered light that came through my fuchsia curtains, bouncing off the beautiful Black Angel, the colour of the day was definitely magenta. Continue reading