gaseous emissions

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The yellow stuff in the photo above is durian. A tropical fruit that is either loved or hated for its pungent smell and strong after-taste. I love durian, though I am sensitive to olfactory stimuli, that is one kind of gas that I am strangely attracted to (but only if I am eating the fruit, and not after the leftovers are discarded in the trash heap.)

To be brutally honest, most of what constitutes interaction with humans is to me gaseous emissions – some pleasant, like that of the durian, but mostly fatuous and then some ominously foul.

(I apologise for the awkward sentence construction, though I guess being in a state of high Anxiety, near meltdown and whatnot else is not really an excuse for poor writing, or is it? I don’t really know. There’s too much gas around me.)

This morning, while engaging in some “reading-stimming” (where I read, read, read all kinds of articles online to try and relieve the intense pressure that is building in mind and body due to some trigger or other) I stumbled upon and re-read this blog post by Riah Person, “Gaslighting: what it is and what it does to you.”

It is a simple, straightforward, non-academic piece, expressing thoughts about a crucially important subject. Continue reading

first meeting

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Phad Thai, mango salad and Thai green milk tea.

Here it is again, that photo of my Thai set meal.

My first production meeting with a new friend who’s kindly consented to be my crafting/making assistant for an upcoming project. We had brunch at the Siamese Cat Thai cafe near my home.

This cafe has had quite a number of complaints about their unenthusiastic service, and I can understand why. We arrived at 10am, when the cafe is supposed to be open for service, but nobody bothered with us, until half an hour later. Never mind, we’re resourceful creatures, we found ourselves a suitable table, and we launched into our excited discussion straight away. Continue reading

moonlight

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Mid-Autumn Festival is special to the Chinese. ‘Mooncakes’ 月餅 and lanterns are de rigeur at gatherings with family and close friends. We celebrated on Friday evening with a meal at the East Coast Lagoon Food Village. I usually detest crowds and food smells all jammed into one space, but this place is out in the open, the smells are somehow freshened and the noise is carried away by the sea breeze. Dogs are tolerated here too, if we sit at the outer edge and keep them leashed.

I am happy with this exemplification of ‘family’ – mum, my baby sister, her husband, her husband’s youngest sister and hubby, and we were joined by the latter’s daughter and boyfriend too, which was a bonus. They are foodies, so we always have great food, and I don’t have to even think about what to order because that is always well taken care of. Oh yes, and I get to eat delicious crab claws all shelled and presented neatly with minimum fingers-to-crab-shell contact too! My brother-in-law always shells it for us. No sensory assault, no mess, just great taste! Continue reading

deliciate

Deliciate: to delight oneself; to indulge (in feasting or other revels)

Old words fascinate me. And this one is a timely balm to a fractured, frayed and frazzled soul. (Yes, I also love alliteration. Part of my sensory ‘stimming’ – calming, even if just for the rhythmic enunciative physical qualities.)

This is one old word that I’m longing to luxuriate in.

Sometimes, the cosmos interferes vigorously, even sharply, for my own good, especially when I have been self-destructively obtuse, obstinate and obscurant – inwardly – denying what ought to be glaringly obvious, covering my ears to the roaring whispers of ratiocination. A knock on the head was needed to wake me from my self-induced somnambulism. This thunder-clap on my thick skull came from a remark made by an autistic man, expressing an utterly selfish viewpoint with foot-stomping petulance and digging in of the heels with so much defensiveness that it was almost bizarre. The age-old “What’s in it for me?” agenda reared its ugly head. I was shocked and disappointed at first, but I realise now that, inside a deeper consciousness, I already and always knew this side of him. I had merely been blinded by my very own enthusiastic hope that the person would change, daring to even think that I could make a difference in this person’s attitude and learning journey within such a short span of time as three years. Continue reading

finale – SYNC Day 5

Day 5 of the SYNC programme came and went. The going was at times ponderous, because the body was weak and felt like a sack of potatoes, trudging, groaning, creaking and sighing. But I was a tad sad that time had passed so quickly.

I did not bring Lucy, because I had a dinner appointment later that day, and the long hours would be too much for her. But I missed her terribly – it was visibly hard for me to get through the day without her. Our programme coach and instructor remarked that the difference in me was obvious.

There was much learning, pondering and reflecting – but I will not delve into that here. These little snippets are sensory-focused, they are about my sensory experiences of SYNC.

Here are the few photos I took on Friday. No Lucy, so not much inspiration left.

Food. There was a lot of food. Thanks to Maureen and the kind folk from Very Special Arts (VSA). One artist brought their retired guide dog – she is a lovely sweetheart, but such a huge contrast from Lucy’s still, quiet, regal poise. There was a bit of to-ing and fro-ing settling the dog down, and occasional froufrou noises generally made by the owner telling the dog to calm down, which actually stirred the air so much that it had the opposite effect on the poor dog. Methinks some basic dog handling 101 (training) is needed here, for the human, not the dog. At one moment, I walked by and the darling dog got out from her ‘tuck’ position under the table, sat on my feet and leaned resolutely against me, refusing to budge. Anyone who understands some basic doggy body language would know what that meant. My heart goes out to the dog each time I see her. But the smell… I cannot deal with stinky dogs. So very very sorry, darling.

I was a little sad that the week went by so quickly, even though I was already exhausted right at the beginning, and nearly fainted from fatigue twice on Friday afternoon.

Enabling Village is a beautiful place – despite its tacky and almost inappropriately ableist name. We were welcomed every morning by the friendly security people – especially Lucy, which is a marked difference from most other places in Singapore. When I arrived on Friday without Lucy, the lovely men asked me where she was and why I didn’t bring her. One of them whipped out their mobile phone and showed me the photograph that he’d taken of Lucy the day before, on Thursday. They kept saying how beautiful she is, and how still, calm and gentle. I should come here more often with Lucy, perhaps?

The village is a strange place, in other ways, though. Heavy doors make it difficult, if not impossible, for people in wheelchairs to get through on their own. Mirrors in the ladies’ toilet are positioned so high that people in wheelchairs can only see half their reflections. There is no soap dispenser in the disability toilet – do they think that disabled people don’t need to use soap to wash their hands? There are no electric outlets in the training room – how do they expect disabled people with electronic devices to charge their equipment when using the training rooms for long periods of time? And the big bugbear I have? There is no quiet or calm room for people with disabilities – only a “carer’s pod” for carers!!! Isn’t this place for and about people with disabilities?

Sigh.

Nevertheless, having something like Enabling Village at all is a big step in the right direction for Singapore, I guess, though it also shows very starkly that we really do have a very long way more to go.

out of whack

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Fluffy

After three full-on gruelling days, APAC19 (Asia Pacific Autism Conference 2019) is over. It was an amazing and even sometimes exhilarating event – a first of its kind in Singapore where actual autistic people permeated all but the very top mesosphere at an autism event. 1,800 people gathered in the massive Resorts World Convention Centre all with the common goal of learning more about Autism and how autistic persons and those around us can best thrive.

I wrote a mini summary here, and uploaded some of my own photos, so go check it out.

Now to face the aftermath of all that dizzy positivity: my sensory system has been thrown completely off kilter, of course. Which autistic person doesn’t understand what I mean? Not one, I’d wager, though the specifics may be different for each individual.

For me, I’ve developed an insatiable appetite – it’s my mouth, my tastebuds and olfactory nerves all going chomp-chomp-chomp without care for or connection with the rest of my body. The brain is craving sensory comfort so much that it doesn’t want to acknowledge the other sensations like, well, a too-full stomach. I’m having trouble with my own physical signalling, as if I shall float away if I didn’t firmly anchor myself somewhere and somehow.

Oh, and the insomnia is deafening. I can hear everything whirring in randomly orchestrated high-pitched pretentious screech-fest in my headspace. Tones and microtones meandering, crossing, greeting, clashing, intertwining and looping.

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And those bizarre lights at the convention centre, they’re gyrating and creating a bit of drama. My eyes have not stopped hurting since – I can feeling the muscles tensely squeezing around the eye socket – and my vision is blurry.

I need Clement Space. In bed now, listening to Lucy’s breath, softly undulating, her warmth emanating so reassuringly.

I must attempt to sleep now. Good night, Every Bunny!

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pancakes & jelly beans

 

I don’t know why my brain produced that title. There are no pancakes or jelly beans in any of my photographic offerings here today. The words were just echoing inside, wriggling and jiggling among the other bits and bobs, and so I decided I’d let them out to dance around. Perhaps something to do with switching modes from the ‘seriousness’ of advocacy etc to the now ‘lighthearted’ topic of food and friendships?

Food is an integral part of fellowship for humans, methinks. I miss our weekend noshment adventures with friend Rick, mostly in Paddo, though he did travel to Kensington for the dire period when Lucy and I were trapped in that not so suitable environment. And of course, when we were forced to move to awful Rose Bay, Rick valiantly came to our mental rescue. Thanking the cosmos for really great friendships, without them I’d not have preserved even this little semblance of my ability to function! Continue reading

clement Saturday

Too hot for walks, mumma!

Today, I woke up somewhat off-kilter. Lucy was unfortunately in sync with me and didn’t even want to go out walking in the early morning. The heat this month has been really depressing. Too much to-ing and fro-ing in the last few days, methinks. Sensory overload happens even when I am enjoying myself. I have a headache, sore throat, and there’s something not quite right along my nasal passages. I just want to be with my Lucy. The family have gone out for lunch and grocery shopping: the two little fluffies in their bright green buggy and mum in her super Wheelie (we call mum’s wheelchair the Wheelie), my sister, brother-in-law and their helper.

I’m now waiting for my FoodPanda lunch delivery – Hainanese Chicken Rice set from a restaurant nearby. Lucy and I could’ve walked there, of course, but this is Singapore and if you’ve never been here, you have no idea how assaultive the weather can be at this time of the day. Well, at any time of the day, actually.

While waiting, I played the “waiting game” with Lucy – I place a treat near her nose, and tell her to “wait”. She must not touch the treat until I say, “Okay!” She is a good girl, even when it’s her favourite cheesy biscuit! Now, Lucy has moved to the day bed and she is chewing on her Venison ear. I am listening to the rhythmic crunching, munching and gnawing sounds she is making. It’s all music to my ears, even the squeaky juicy sounds emanating from the air-conditioning sounds pleasant. All is good and clement. Just Lucy and me here. Clement Space for Two.

Oh, is that the FoodPanda guy now? I hear his motorbike downstairs in the carpark.

Hainanese Chicken Rice set with KaiLan and soy sauce egg.

This one is for you, Rick. In memory of our Saturday noshments! Have a dogly weekend down under and say hello to Paddo from us.

five-four

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Today was yet another brain melt day, I have been having a great deal of these lately – triggered no doubt by the combined crush of lack of intellectual and creative stimulation, too much stress from trying too hard at everything apart from engaging in real creative work (which includes research, not just art, which I love), overload of weariness from advocacy (often this means preaching to the un-convertible), and the ironic lack of empathic understanding from even the most well-meaning non-autistic ‘autism experts’, who, despite their book knowledge and claims of having worked with autistic people for x number of years, still have little to no idea how to actually communicate with Autistic people according to our intrinsic styles. It is always us Autistics who have to bend, bow, wriggle, wrangle and perform grand calisthenics in order to reach out to the normative. It’s no walk in the park, trying to make ourselves understood – ironically, the ‘autism experts’ seem sometimes the least capable of comprehending us (not always, I am glad for the wonderful allies I have met and with whom I work). Blame it on the rigid (oops, aren’t we Auties the ones who are supposed to be inflexible?) stubborn adherence to the Medical Model, perhaps?

Anyway… Mental exhaustion, emotional depletion, and sensory-physical devastation can have crushing effects on a hyper sensory Autistic Bunny. Too debilitated to even cook for myself and too out of linguistic spoons to instruct our helper to cook for me, I decided to order in my lunch via FoodPanda delivery. As with almost all Asian (especially Chinese) food, it tasted better than it looked. (With the exception of Japanese cuisine, which looks every bit as delicious as it tastes!)

Then, while going through some work-related emails (as the food gurgled it mushy way down my digestive tract), I was reminded to look again at Damian Milton’s video on “Double Empathy”.

I love Damian’s work, he has done a great deal of work in the area of empathy, and I also like his dry, deadpan humour. I won’t add further to this excellent talk, but just to insert in here that somehow, my brain zipped and zapped a connection with this other thing, seemingly unrelated but yet it is, because Damian did mention music as a communication… Here we are…

Why “Take Five” by Dave Brubeck? I seriously do not have a ready explanation, although I am sure there is one if I dug deep enough. For now, my brain isn’t working in the conventional way, so I’ll just say that’s just the way my brain works. Seemingly bizarre connectivities. But sometimes exquisite!

No prizes for guessing what rhythmic time signature my brain worm is gyrating to now.

snapshots of grace

 

(Above: Rhapsody in Orange – photos of Salmon roe, Salmon, and common wholemeal bread squares.)

Unabashedly photographing food – almost everything I imbibe – as if on a mission. Unlike most, though, my food is seldom fanciful or posh, my captures are not from expensive restaurants or showy, but merely simple snapshots of quite ordinary and mundane fare. For me, each one carries an association – sometimes sensory memories of textures, smells and colourful tastes, other times brief mini narratives of sorts. Sometimes I am captivated by its arrangement, its visual composition framed within the plate or bowl, and the larger assemblage on the table of many miniature narratives.

 

(Above: Visual captures of Lunar New Year fare, snippets of tastes, smells and accompanying sounds – mostly very loud sounds – of festivity and celebration. Individual photos have descriptions.)

When I began this blog, I started out with a simple mission: to document the great food challenge of ‘How to eat on a scholar’s miserable budget”. Musings were deliberately kept light, sometimes whimsical and other times pondering the deeper things via the cogent agency of ‘food-ing’.

 

(Above: Photos of BunnyHopscotch style food-ing.)

My photographs of food are always intimate and personal – to me – and they speak of suspended moments in time and space, taking deep breaths of appreciation, gratitude at each savouring, and wonderment that I possess such intricate senses – all reflections of and conversations taking place in a kind of Clement Space that I inhabit together with the life-giving morsels du jour.

 

(Above: Eating out with family has a different kind of melodic & harmonic structure.)

 

I like the act of documentation, and my senses are natural archives being fed on a constant basis. And most important to me, on a deeper level, food-ing has been and continues to be an agency for gratitude, and the learning to embrace grace.