Post Exhibition Syndrome. I think almost every artist has experienced this at some point in their life. Not unlike the musician’s Post Concert Syndrome. For the autistic person with hypersensory issues, that becomes compounded on several levels. Add to the mix an autoimmune condition that likes to rear its ugly head whenever stress flits around.
A fabulous journey, with unexpected shocks, twists, turns and good outcomes. But here we are. The aftermath. Almost a week later.
Mental and physical exhaustion. I feel as if I am a character in a surreal Chinese Kungfu movie, where some strange force has sucked the qi out of me. Fortunately, it is not a negative spiritual experience. I am looking at the photographs and videos, noticing all the things I could have and should have done better, but I am not feeling lousy about it. It is an ongoing experiment and exploration after all.
Lost or mislaid socks. A pile of clean laundry to fold and put away. Two giant mounds of unwashed laundry sitting forlornly in the bathroom to attend to, but I am too tired to even contemplate it, let alone organise something systematic. The smorgasbord continues. This was the challenge: I ran out of fresh food a few days ago. So, I decided I will try to eat whatever is there. Plenty of eggs. Left over from the over zealous stash ordered for the cupcake baking exercise. A few packets of instant Thai Tom Yum noodles. Rice, of course. Plenty of it. OK, I did relent and made a hurried trip to the nearby butchery for some chicken wings. That was about it.
Tonight, the groceries arrived. I prefer to order online. Saves me the time and the effort of travel. I cooked a very late dinner. Gobbled it all without taking any photographs. For some mysterious reason, I just needed dessert. I had to have something sweet. Which is unusual because I normally prefer savouries. I made crispy French Toast. Again, no photos. We’ll have to make do with these visuals. 🙂
A heatwave is in the cards for tomorrow. The mozzies are buzzing, but I cannot shut the windows, I have no airconditioning here. Just the fan. It is directed at Lucy. Poor baby girl. She is feeling the heat. Tomorrow will be worse.
For now, it is time to crawl into bed. Lucy is already fast asleep. Good night.