in sync – SYNC Day 1

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My autistic brain wanted to rearrange this, but my sensory overload just ate it instead.

Syncopating synchronicity. A homecoming. Returning to grace. Active, inspiriting, body-mind-soul connecting with intrinsic approbation.

Yesterday was the first of five days of rigorous physical andragogy. No, I am not training for a Iron Man, but it did feel like it to my old body, floppy with misuse and pushed beyond the limits, running helter skelter for purposes not directly beneficial to me.

I am one of a group of artists in the SYNC Leadership Programme, brought to Singapore by the British Council, Singapore International Foundation, Very Special Arts and collaborating supporters.

When an eclectic collection of highly-charged, dynamic and tenacious artists with disabilities cram into a small room together, a different kind of ‘normal’ is constructed. Our artistry is varied, each vastly dissimilar from the other, as are our personalities, backgrounds, styles and art forms. Yet, we are connected by the intoxicating electric charge of Artistry and all this encompasses in its multifaceted expressions.

The gruelling demands on my body were partially mitigated by the gastronomic infusions – plentiful, yet not so overwhelmingly lavish that my sensory brain is driven into a state of confused shock. Simple, straight forward and manageable abundance.

And I cannot describe with words right now how exquisitely, incorruptibly peaceful – yet almost Lucullan in its graceful gestures – this is to my soul. I am looking forward eagerly, despite the physical punishment, to the next few days. Scheherazade is rising yet again.

Sensory photos from Day 1.

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perfidy

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Frightening mephitic essence of blatant tyranny oozing from every pore. Maleficent, flagitious, mockery of the Sacred.

I am contacted by representative of arts company to re-create my Clement Space installation in one of their rooms, an immersive, interactive exhibition that will run for 12 months. Two overly long meetings. A deluge of talk, talk, talk. Bubbly enthusiasm. Then, one month of anxiety-laden delay. Broken trust. Agreements ignored. And finally, The Contract.

  1. The company demands to co-own (in perpetuity) my Clement Space – intellectual property that has existed for three years as an established signature concept and creative work belonging solely to me, the Artist.
  2. The company demands to literally take possession of the Artist – body, mind and soul – for a period of 12 months, during which the Artist is not allowed to engage in any other creative work, unless the Artist applies in writing for permission from the company.

The payment: $3,500. Read it again. $3,500. No, not even $3,500 per month, which is an insult enough for an artist with a PhD and international experience. It is $3,500 for the entire year. Yes. For $3,500 they want to commandeer a piece of valuable property that does not and will never rightfully belong to them; and they want to play colonial master to the Artist subaltern for an entire year.

An exclamation mark at the end of the sentence fails miserably to represent the shocking impudence and preposterously brazen, flagrant attempt to contriturate the artistic soul.

Hence, I did not put one in.

What manner of heinousness is this? What goes on inside the bowels of these persons’ consciousness? How could they even have conceived of such terms and demands, such high-handed, ludicrous and impudent expropriation? And what kind of arrogance propelled them to put these thoughts into words – an official, legally binding document, no less?

And no, I am not ‘overreacting’ – my lawyer has had a look at it. A serious travesty, no laughing matter.

Of course, I asked for the clauses to be removed. I asked most politely too. Their response was a casual WhatsApp message:

“Good morning, thank you for your feedback and thoughts on the contract- they’re definitely justified, will revert back to you once we’ve deliberated. You have a good day.”

That was Monday. It is now Saturday. Not a hint of an apology. No admission of solecism. And no redrawn, revised, respectful and mutually beneficial contract. Does it really take a whole week to “deliberate” on how to be respectful and fair in your dealings? As if decency and fairness even need to be deliberated on? And how long does it take to strike out two outrageous sections from a contract? Very telling. And most disconcertingly so.

Artists are among the most oppressed and undervalued professionals. The arts scene can be spiteful, exclusive, elitist and ableist, and most artists are underpaid and overworked.

Disabled persons are also among the most maltreated and disrespected people in an ableist, elitist societal culture.

Put the two together, and we have Disabled Artists who are trying to survive under immense odds – compounded. We are asked to work for free, in exchange for “exposure”. Our needs for accommodation and support are brushed off and often even derided. Our requests and protests are delegated to the “Too Hard” tray, while large corporations and organisations milk the “Disability Inclusion” machinery, churning out facetious, spurious terminology like “Diffable”, “Differently Abled” and “Inspirational” – all entrenched in ableist ideology.

Disabled artists in Singapore deserve the basic, fundamental human right to protection against contumelious exploitation and audacious bullying. Enough is enough.

THIS is why we need a Disabled-Led Artists Collective. This is why I have committed my precious time, limited physical energy and scarce resources to leading Singapore’s first, with the support of the Disabled People’s Association (DPA) Singapore. This is why, if you are a disabled artist, I’d like to invite you to sign up to join our collective.

To find out more, please email me: dr.dawnjoyleong@gmail.com / dawnjoy@dpa.org.sg

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

within the lines

Lucy inspires me. Really she does, and in concrete ways too. This morning, I washed and hung the kitchen rug and an old blanket of Lucy’s out in the balcony to dry, and then settled down to do some reading outside. As the sun climbed higher in the sky and began to shine directly at the balcony, I retreated back inside, but Lucy decided to do a spot of sunbathing. I watched her from my desk at the door, very happy that she is at last getting over her fear of being in the balcony, thinking about how my own enjoyment of the space and a few well administered treats may have helped her along the way.At the same time, I was distractedly contemplating the article I was reading, about Autistm and proprioceptivity, and the following memories and resultant thoughts flooded my mind. Continue reading

mini super pizza

the super pizza !

the super pizza !

There are times when I do wish I had a close friend around who would do the cooking and cleaning for me. The intrusion would be most welcome right now – I have been in Aspie-High-Anxiety-Mode for weeks now, gathering momentum (the anxiety) and going into a wild stretto right now. One week left. Please come to my exhibition if you are in Sydney or passing through!

Dinner tonight was a simple but extremely filling mini super pizza – I used a pita bread base, it is softer and so much easier to tackle on a low energy day. Copious aounts of cheese, one tinned tomato (the tomato paste grew moldy and I threw it away), spinach, bacon and shredded roast chicken. I did take out the olive bottle but forgot to add them. Fresh cut chilli on top to add some zest to the super meal.

Exhaustion – physical and mental fatigue. Detail focus cognition is great fun when creating art, but not so grand when swimming upstream towards a deadline! Wish me good luck!

jealousy or misperception?

hyperbolic crochet weekend 'work'

hyperbolic crochet weekend ‘work’

I worked on some hyperbolic crochet all weekend. Takes ages to make one piece, especially since I am not the zippy experienced granny crochet expert! And, as I was enjoying the process of working my fingers sore and watching a marathon of youtube Brit telly, the following thoughts came to mind. Continue reading