dehydration

Yesterday, I tried valiantly, and with great determination, to return a faulty dishwasher. The person on the other end remained stolid. It was I, not the dishwasher, that was the anathema, the malfunctioning entity. There was much spewing of verbiage completely irrelevant to my pleas, throwing of sparkly dust hither-thither and blowing of bizarre smelling fumes into my face. Exhausted and worn out to the very crisp core, I finally threw in the proverbial towel, recognising this as an exercise of futility.  I threw out the dishwasher. It now sits, sad and forlorn, in the junk heap. I swear, when I walked past this morning, I saw a malevolent snigger painted across its glass face.

This morning, Lucy woke me up at 6am, asking to be taken outside for our morning walky. Without her, I am not sure I would have the strength to get out of bed, even though sleep, most of the time, is pretty much like the spawn from a trashy, poorly written novel and an elusive goblet of sweet wine.

My eyes hurt. A stabbing pain. My skull throbs. A vice across the front squeezing intermittently. My brain is screeching a high pitched, dehydrated and incomprehensible sprechstimme.

It’s still April. Yes, I did check.

This Autism Awareness thingy, and the chorus of dissent from the actually Autistic community (justified and worthy of support), has already kicked a deep dent into my fragile construction of Clement Space.

Today, I just want to celebrate April as Adopt a Greyhound Month. Please.

Here, I present to you, Lucy Like-a-Charm in Sonorous Repose. A collection of photos I created in 2015, about her innate ability to identify, take possession of, and craft intimate spaces of comfort and calm, wherever she may go. A skill I very much want to learn.

Lucy Like-a-Charm in Sonorous Repose 2015

Available as limited edition prints. Enquiries welcome.

Greyhounds are such pulchritudinous creatures. Adopt a Greyhound this April! Bring back beauty into your life, Oh, Weary Soul!

(Or, perhaps you might want to bring one of these limited edition prints into your home? It would help an Autistic Bunny and her Greyhound Angel to procure much needed rations for survival of April BlahBlah Month!)

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lalaloubelle

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I have launched my handmade adornment line at last. LaLaLouBelle. Named after Lucy, my muse and inspiration, LaLaLouBelle marks a long awaited re-ignition of a smouldering ember, a little ‘yearning’ of the sensory kinetic realm to ‘hand craft’ reinterpretations of fascination. Since childhood, I’ve loved little things that held associative wonderment. I collected bus tickets, buttons, jewellery discarded by mum, coloured paper, odd shaped rocks and pebbles, driftwood, shells etc. Thirty years ago, I began to collect beads and semi-precious stones wherever I travelled. I amassed quite a sizeable collection of bits and bobs gathered from parts of Europe, the UK, China, Thailand, India, Indonesia, Malaysia and home in Singapore. Thanks to a very generous old friend, I have in my collection some precious pieces – vintage handcrafted glass beads from around Europe, Johnson & Matthey silver findings, wire, tubes and plates, semi-precious stones and rocks from the Natural History Museum in London – which formed the foundation for subsequent additions along the way. Continue reading

beautiful sunday

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petite aria

A beautiful Sunday of reassuring undulating rhythmic respite is unfolding… Yes, I am talking about working… At last… Some release, relief, trickling through from that too long frustrated thwarted desire… The excruciating agony of crippling entrapment, the fragile winged creature flutters inside its cage, the golden liquid swishing violently against the unyielding containment of harsh cold metal jar, longing to be set free… Continue reading

about us without us

Ever wonder what it feels like to consistently hear and see in mainstream media programmes, interventions and whatnot, all about you but without you?

I am mentally exhausted, and still physically shaking from the effects of this programme:

Living With Autism – 9msn

It was very triggering, I could not vocalise my reactions coherently last night, but am going to try now. I could write a conference paper on this alone, or more, but here is a brief.

Big glaring questions:

1. A programme about autism… BUT… Where are the autistic voices? A few seconds here and there, nothing more. Would this be acceptable if it were a programme about, for example, Chinese culture and nobody bothered to properly research or interview Chinese people seriously?

2. Has anyone thought how a more ‘severely autistic’ person would feel, watching this? OK, so I know many so-called ‘high functioning’ autists / Aspies may be quite happy with the programme, and glad for the functioning label that sets them apart superficially from the ‘lows’. But not me. I am not considered ‘severely autistic,’ and there are some sympathetic bits in this programme, but it was in general quite horrible to endure.

3. I wonder what the response would be if Down Syndrome or any other condition were to be examined and presented in this way? Today’s trend is autism. Have we really evolved in our attitudes towards differentness and difficult deviations from the prevalent norm? Continue reading

allegro con brio

A fitful night. Strange dreams. Shivering cold / sizzling heat – sensory imbalances. Terrifying and overwhelming fear-anxiety – how will I ever get this project (Sonata in Z) out of the bog and up and running?  Continue reading

language

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Sunshine and dry, crisp air spell clemency! A beautiful non-verbal day. Well, apart from the mandatory superficial and brief salutations as we navigated human traffic and populated space. Lucy and I went to do a bit of work at my art studio today. We returned every smiling greeting with the same amount of cheer – why not? We love our cosy little bubble here, where everyone who matters is friendly, and where Lucy is accepted as part of the ‘family’. This kind of interaction does not bother me, even on a ‘non-verbal’ day where I want and/or need to disengage from words and social parlance, since nobody ventures to invade my personal mental space, nor makes grating demands upon my verbal consciousness.

Does non-verbality mean absence of language? No, not at all. Continue reading

Space of Mind

A recurring theme right now… More Space of Mind… Putting aside Theory of Mind, whether Neurotypical or Autistic. Theories are nebulous, fluid and changing, there is nothing that I can smell, touch, taste, see or hear. Right now, it is tumultuous, and I want to exist inside a clement, graceful and gracious Space of Mind.

Inside this Space of Mind, proximal and distal senses unite, meander, frolic and reciprocate. Dancing around warm, crackling campfires, wordless, no yakkity-yak, we are socialising with the elements, in conversation with materiality, vibrating and pulsating personifications of atoms at play.

Beingness. Gazing at pulchritude. My Lucy, her entire body in synchronicity, quivering in some kind of unknown, unspoken sensorial concentration, as she sniffs each leaf, each blade of grass, and tiny speck of bark on the eucalyptus trees. “Thinking through the body” – art in a parallel embodiment.

enchantments

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Pain. Inflammation. This article looks at the phenomena and connection in the brain regions. Those who suffer from chronic pain, regardless of causation and triggering factors, share a universal commonality – intensity of sensory experience, tenacity and sheer perseverance. The latter description emanates from the experiential, the palpable description of what is actually lived, outside of the neuroimaging labs inhabited by white coated researchers.

The last few days were ‘inflamed’ days.

I could wax morosely lyrical about this aspect, and issue forth an eloquent central global focus on the Life and Times of the Chronically Inflamed, but it fails to provide relief or respite (to me). Since this is my blog after all, I get to choose how and what I write, don’t I? Hence, I shall dwell on the little details, as my own mind feels comfortable doing, turning everything inside out, bottom up, and making secondary references to what is actually a primary pervading sensation of the day.

Fragmented reflections of humble luxuries. Continue reading

work of art

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Mango chicken salad.

Any effort of life worthy of execution is a work of art. This applies most obviously in research – in my mind, there should not even be any hard and fast, static, defined demography of “transdisciplinarity,” though I myself use the term, for want of better semantic description. This creative endeavour, whether minute and seemingly innocuous, or groundbreaking momentous, should not so much be formed from a structured or deliberate action plan of cross-discplinary fertilisation or grafting, but rather borne out of a seed of passionate enquiry, whose innocence knows no arbitrary impositions. Continue reading