Food – and the entire process of sourcing, preparing, arranging and imbibing – is a material entity that engages itself with my attempts at installing grace.
Especially when situated within a graceless space, an inclement situation, or as a gesture of self preservation on multiple dimensions which cannot be better expressed via other structural forms.
There are times when I create to address emotional excitement, other times merely a primitive sensorial response of the moment, and then there are the “doing-ness” when in out-of-body forms of catatonia (brought on by trauma). Food provides a physical, concrete and palpable elemental anchor, not merely for the taste buds, but on dimensions that my addled brain is at the moment unable to string words on behalf of.
Today, lunch was a deliberate, even laboured and determined installation of grace. Self administered Grace. In the midst of shock and momentary devastation.
What happens when people representing organisations listed as “help” agencies and “advocates” attack and abuse the very people they purport to be “helping” and “advocating” for?
Today, I called one such establishment. I was actually acting according to instructions by another legal authority to pursue this line of action, specifically on account of disability. Dutifully, obediently, the Aspie Brain executed the action.
“Shock”is too mild a word for this encounter. But it will have to suffice.
I was summarily told…
We are not here to make you feel more comfortable, you know?
Back to my installation. That does make me feel more comforted, even if not more comfortable.
There is something about installing grace…