revisiting LaLaLouBelle

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‘Making’, the act and action, is like a gently flowing stream of consciousness, a knowing of wellbeing. I breathe more calmly and at the same time there is a delightful sense of excitement like an aura wrapping around me.

I’ve been revisiting my jewellery hobby, after near complete brain shutdown the other day from frenetic writing and overworking the thinking machine. I needed that elemental connection with material and matter. And, as always, Lucy was a cooperative model.

Just uploaded more photos in LaLaLouBelle! Check them out if you’re interested in handmade jewellery for humans and furries.

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Saturated – losing my mojo, & the question of embodied existence as an autistic person.

Thank you, Sonia. You are not alone. Once more, you eloquently speak my own resonance.

The other side

STU_1404DPP4_001Photograph by Stu Allsopp 2018

Don’t bother reading this. Yes – probably this blog post has been written before. Possibly even by me? I’ve written so very many posts since my diagnosis that even I can’t keep up!

Deja vu, reinventing the wheel, this is what comes to mind when I hit the web these days. Voices that have been silenced for a lifetime are compelled to speak, and in so many ways blogging is the perfect mouthpiece.

But I’ve become weary about sharing my life online.

Suddenly – as I approach my two year diagnosis anniversary – the plane is tanking. I’m not giving up on activism. There’s probably just a limit to how long a person can keep going without burning out a little, or even getting burned (which indeed I did in 2017).

Also there is overwhelm. It’s brilliant that the blogging scene keeps mushrooming – but…

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anxiety at the BIG Anxiety

Big anxiety at The BIG Anxiety Festival!

Some of this narrative was introduced in my previous post, about Food Markers, but this ramble here is a kind of variation on the theme, from a different angle.

This 2017 working trip has been fraught with dramatic ups and downs, and here’s my as-brief-as-possible review of the Grand Experience, months afterwards. Beware, ye grammar-sticklers, I do move rapidly between tenses, because I am unfolding the unfolding as I am experiencing it, in the now, in the then, and in the next. And that, too, is my Autistic Bunny Authentic Experience-ing. Continue reading

food markers

Food can be multi sensorial markers for a journey, tangible physical tabs that help one chronicle the meandering and navigating along the way. Here are my food markers for this trip, a somewhat odd blend of agony and joy, despair and exhilaration all rolled into one jumbled mass.

After arriving at my place of abode, already down with some kind of nasty infection, feverish and in a brain fog, I set about trying to find some nourishment for my weary body. I didn’t manage to get far, due to the sorry state I was in, and settled for a hot dog and an orange juice from the pie and hot dog stand across the road, by the wharf. A sunny day, there were the usual seagulls and pigeons stalking all and any humans sitting at the benches eating. One man brought his little French Bulldog for some sunshine. It was difficult chewing down on the hotdog, my jaw slightly swollen and stiff, but I was quite determined to achieve the feat. The orange juice tasted like soap and plastic though, pretty vile, hence that was abandoned after a few swigs. I so hate to waste. Continue reading

bing!

All of us well into middle age now, and many of us have known one another since primary (grade) school days. We had a grand-ish reunion party at Bing Bing Ice Cream Gallery in Tanjung Katong a week ago. Just 20-plus ladies, but not an easy feat to bring the lot together in one place at the same time – and just imagine the decibel levels when all begin to chatter? Yes, sensory overload for me, and I suffered a pounding headache afterwards, but it was just lovely seeing old friends again, so the pain was worth it. And the ice cream? Simply delicious! Thank you, BL, for letting us descend upon the ice cream shop. And apologies to the customers who were treated to full auditory assault by us over enthusiastic ladies. We’ve not met up in such numbers for a long time. Please come back again to Bing Bing when it is less chaotic, and do enjoy the ice cream, because they serve fabulous flavours for every palate!

(My personal favourites? Gula Melaka with Red Bean, Coconut, and MaoShanWang Durian!)

no bacon

No bacon. That’s what the doctor ordered. Irritable Bowel Syndrome is no fun for a foodie. Doc says it’s due to a combination of contributing factors – mainly a massive accumulation of stress and a stomach bug that refuses to die, lurking in the nether regions of my digestion, making malevolent hiccups.

The reality? Pain. More pain in a world of pain. And the agony? No bacon or ham or preserved foods (aargh, but I love cured meats!). No dairy (not fond of milk anyway, but cheese and butter are things I do love). Just fish, fresh vegetable, and limited fruit. Of course, opinions vary where it comes to the IBS diet, because there really isn’t any such thing – that is, science is unsure so us humans just keep on guessing. However, the Christmas binge-ing and subsequent punishment sent a clear message to my very stubbornly food-driven brain that the “no meats” advice was good advice indeed. Also, no wheat infused foods. That’s ok, pasta and wheat noodles can be easily substituted with vermicelli and rice. But no chicken or pork? And “Eat lots of fish!” ???? Haaaaaalp!  Continue reading

stew

Festive seasons are to me like stew. I love food. I love eating. But I am wary of stew. Things get thrown willy nilly into a large pot, stirred, cooked and cooked, and then poured out in a chunky, goopy, mass. The sound it makes when a scoop of the stuff hits the plate or bowl? Quite nauseating, like a soft belching blended and layered with thick, dull, stretched out staccato. I do not much like stew. And I do not much like festivities.

Regardless, it was a goodly Christmas and New Year over here for this Autistic Foodie Bunny, and I am beginning to learn how to actually enjoy these things.  Continue reading

oil in my lamp

Noshment. Sustenance. Oil in my physical lamp. Goodness for my soul. And thankfulness in the spirit. The family – mum, baby sis, brother-in-law, furry boys, and helper Nula – had lunch at our usual favourite yesterday, but at a new location. It seems as if the neighbourhood malls are more crowded than the main shopping street in the city. I bring my mental clement space with me. It is a struggle, most definitely, but equilibrium is what I seek. Continue reading

ingénue

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There is no word I know that adequately expresses the fullness of Lucy Like-a-Charm. This simplicity interwoven with regal poise and quietude, wrapped around a gentleness so profound and sublime, my heart bursts with infinite gratitude to have her in my life. Another year has passed. My Angel has graced my human domain for a little more than 5 years now. I promised her a better life, away from the horrors of the racing life she once had. I wonder if she still remembers those perilous years, where her life and soul teetered on the brink of annihilation?

I do not ask, “Do you love me?”, but rather, “Are you happy?” “Are you well?”

Would I give anything to hear her tell me she loves me? No. But I would give my life and world to know just that she is happy and well. No words needed. No neurotypical-style longings for verbal and physical reassurance of my own worth as caretaker of this majestic, unblemished wonderment. I am an autistic human custodian of Unadulterated Pulchritude. Lucy Like-a-Charm is a once in a lifetime miracle of life – a gift from the cosmos to me.

Nonpareil.

Happy New Year, Lucy Like-a-Charm! My hope for 2018? That I may continue to bring you wellness, happiness and contentment. A better life. I am still working towards that. Thank you for your patience with me.

Goodbye 2017

 

Sometimes, the mind gets lost inside the mire of anxiety, like a hamster caught in an ever spinning wheel, so focused on the effort of running that one can forget to hop off the relentless vicious cycle. Feeling unwell from an unpleasant juxtaposition between Christmas feasting and irritable bowel syndrome, caught in the doldrums of self-deprecation, I was just about to declare 2017 a year of absolute non-achievement (yes, utterly ridiculous but that was my mindset at the time) when I decided to take a long, deep breath, sit down and make a list of the activities I had engaged in through the year. Truth be told, 2017 was actually a literal beehive of activity. I was surprised, duly chastised for my negativity, a tad shamefaced yet relieved – I needed that stern reality check! Continue reading