haunted

I am not at all superstitious, so this is, to me, rather hilarious. I am talking about the ‘spirits’ that have been lurking and stalking me lately: Antonin Artaud and Richard Wagner in clown outfits no less. Right, yes, I have a vivid imagination, and I do have some really bizarre dreams too, but this coincidence is ridiculous.

Tech-Fail again!!!! I am talking about yesterday’s groundbreaking super amazing event that a group of us managed to conjure up and bring in a full house as a bonus.

Disability Led Practices 2018 copy

We belong to a Facebook group interested in the subject of disability studies. Someone posted an advertisement for a story telling workshop charging $200 to teach disabled folk how to tell their own stories. Some of us remarked that they shouldn’t charge so much, then I jokingly said that we could create our own event about disability and our stories, one suggestion led to another and it snowballed into a real ‘thing’. There was a time constraint, one of us needs to head back to Chicago to continue his PhD study when term starts again, so we had to make our event happen before he leaves. I was mired in the preparations for TEDx and didn’t have time to really pitch in with solid work (read about the TEDx fiasco here). I reached out for help from the Disabled People’s Association and as always they were happy to support us. All we needed was a venue – which took some time to secure. Finally, less than two weeks before our intended event, one of the team managed to wrangle a freebie from the Singapore University of Social Sciences. Phew! With that little time left for publicity, I wondered if anyone would attend. We were charging $10 per person to help pay for various things like sign language interpreters and a note taker, refreshments etc. Nail-bitingly scary, but guess what, Full House!!

Anyway, back to my comedy with those two guys, Artaud and Wagner.

AV all went perfectly fine for the other four speakers, but when it came to my turn (I was doing the wrapping up), midway through, the eerie stuff returned. My slides won’t show, the videos won’t play and the screen went fuzzy and psychedelic – very trippy! Well, it was yet another opportunity to tell the audience my funny story about what went down at TEDx. This time, however, I was not at all irritated or annoyed. The team member manning the technical equipment is not a professional, and I could see the poor chap trying valiantly to restore some order to the screen. It was actually funny, unlike my TEDx experience. Why? Because of expectations and the frame within which each event occurred. TEDx prides itself as a professional event, I put myself through months of preparation and regular rehearsals at my own expense, I also forked out good money to bring Lucy and myself to the tech rehearsal the night before, and they were supposed to have a professional crew looking after the technical side of things. So, microphone failure in the middle of my speech, playing the wrong videos, losing my videos, and then playing the correct video without sound – these mistakes, to me, are unprofessional and inexcusable. But yesterday’s event was a casual one, put together by non-professionals, just like-minded people sharing a common passion, each of us pitching in however we could. Very difference scenario, don’t you think?

It had to be me… I can hear myself singing that song in my head even now. I blame it on Artaud and Wagner. They do seem to follow me around. Never a dull moment, it seems. My life is a grand theatre of strange juxtapositions.

Yesterday, we had great fun. We learned from one another. We shared our stories to at least 55 people in that room. I was inspired by my friends to try harder to make everything more accessible to people with different disabilities from mine. To think outside of my own bubble. And I hope we collectively inspired others in the room to do so too.

“Presume Competence! It is not hard to do!” This phrase is quoted from my TEDx speech. It will be something I keep in mind henceforth.

We are now looking forward to our next event.

Disability Leadership has begun in Singapore! At last. We didn’t wait for organisations and the establishment to do it for us – I doubt if they ever would, despite talking endlessly about “inclusion” – we did this ourselves. We – disabled folk and allies – are proud of ourselves. And thankful to those who support us. Each and every person who turned up yesterday – Thank You!

P.S. Here is what I had prepared to speak on yesterday, my speaker’s notes. I’ve added some extra videos for a bonus 🙂

spectres

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Today, those old familiars, you know, those ghostly wisps of Artaud and Wagner, my goodly pals that seem to follow me around and suck me into merry gyrations of bizarre comedic-tragic theatrics? Well, they paid a nice little surprise visit once again, of all times, during my TEDx speech. Continue reading

the dilemma of trauma

 

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One week of excruciating physical pain. Stress reaction. A serious one. I was caught by surprise this time, I didn’t expect my body to react so viciously.

I was physically assaulted last Sunday. By someone I know. The person has admitted to me it was a psychotic episode. I am psychologically and emotionally intact, but my physical body has reacted fiercely from the traumatic shock.

Last Sunday, I attended a theatre performance. I was standing outside the theatre, in a basement lobby teeming with chattering voices bouncing off pristine white walls, waiting for the show to begin, when a pre-show drama literally exploded in my face. Continue reading

layers

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Tumultuous ocean, churning depths. Underneath pomp, ceremonious circus, lies dark churning death. Extirpating the soul inside writhing grief, bursting through blessed gratitude too copiously applied. Such ponderous agony, ‘neath layer upon layer of colourful luxury.

Executive dysfunction is a very real phenomenon – not to be scoffed at. The veneer of steadfastness belies gritted teeth, foaming nausea, weeping silently, hapless, atop mighty pedestal. Who sets the heights, lengths, and breadths for performativity? The Autistic in a constant state of unstable flux – crushed, tossed, fluffed, buoyed, then crammed into discomforting contortions – seeks determinedly for clemency of space, breathing in every small fleeting moment, as if a last and final breath.

Too much struggle brings chaos to sensory reception – hyper senses become all the more acute, but yet bizarre in rhythmic jaggedness. The brain seems to switch off some signals, while others hurtle along as if out of control. A multi-dimensional existence, so markedly conflicting, it is a wonder that there are not far more collisions and collapses.

Demons screaming at the door, thinly veiled agony that nobody sees, nor ought they to be cognisant of in case of unknown, volatile consequences.

troll and roll

 

 

 

Social media is an amazing thing, really. Dissemination of information – false and true and somewhere in between – quicker than you can say your own name. It’s a great space for many people with disabilities to connect, sans the traditional barriers. Yet, it’s also a grand circus for explosive and nasty battles where humans exhibit their common human DNA, regardless of superficial differences. Continue reading

monachopsis

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Wriggling… awkward shifting, shuffling… navigating frothy nausea… think, dank fog…

How to craft Clement Space inside a constantly assaultive alienation? Minuscule foci. Small things. Split-second moments. Carpe diem! Each tiny aperture is a precious molecule.

Lucy.

Home-cooked nosh.

Friendship.

Music.

Art.

Goodness.

Kindness.

Droplets of mercy and grace notes of consideration, respect and gentleness. These all are Clement Spaces, in the midst of monachopsis.

clemency & space

 

This morning, I travelled across my little island home from the central region where I live, to the western coast, to the Yale-NUS College library to set up my miniature Clement Space in the City (revised, 2018) installation. It is an impressive campus, not for its size, as it is a small one, but for its compact superficial beauty. There is a sense of crafted tranquility in its manicured greenery, right in the middle of smart modern buildings. Meandering around clean, crisp corridors, trying to find my destination, I wonder about the lack of clear signposts. Is it a deliberate exercise in subtle exclusion, a quiet ‘hint’ to outsiders that we are not exactly warmly welcomed into this carefully constructed environment for the elite? I do not really know, but I did have the thought that Lucy would’ve loved a nice run around the green grass patches, though she’d probably create bald muddy holes in the wake of her greyhound strides. Then another thought following this one was, “Is this beauty something to merely behold, or can we actually use it, run around in it, hug the trees, roll in the manicured grass, laugh, flap, stim and lie on it?” Continue reading

crush

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I can literally hear it, the crunching, fragments rubbing against one another, breaking, jostling, resisting until they break yet again into smaller and smaller composites. The soul is an amazing, elastic creature, yet so fragile in its dichotomous existence. Crushed, overridden, derided, mocked, flung from one extreme to another, the dissonant chromaticism so excruciating, a wordless silent scream issues forth, travelling through time and space into the vast nothingness, pain with an ominous fermata riding mercilessly atop. Continue reading