An old friend. Probably the only one left from that era of innocence. A little petite dinner. A small humble celebration. Love. No need for big glamorous party. I don’t want many many flittering fluttering bits flying around my sphere, making me nauseous and giddy. Happy with just one old friend, a takeaway meal, and two mini little cakes for dessert – to celebrate my very obscure arrival on earth.
Mini mini sweets
Love me, or leave me. Simple as that. Many have left, others have entered the clement spaces. New and old, a blended grace. And there is now Lucy Like-a-Charm. I am content.
I love my neighbourhood. I’ve lived here since coming to Sydney, with a brief 8 month interruption last year. The separation was traumatic, and both Lucy and I were so relieved and glad to be back. I am about to move on again, though, and I am very sad. Nobody likes change, but for the autistic person, change is a huge challenge. It isn’t that our minds are slower to process, or that we somehow lack the logical ability to grasp the inevitability of transformation, transfiguration and transmutation. In fact, quite the opposite. My mindscape is so inundated with a plethora of small bits of data gleaned from vibrant elemental interlocutions – patterns, shapes, sounds, smells, tastes, from the heartbeat and breath of cosmic life itself – that my cognizance needs peaceful anchorage, order and sympathetic familiarity. However, that is not a luxury that I am able to relish at this point. After the frenetic anxious flurry of the next one and a half months, as soon as my exhibition, Sonata in Z, is complete, I shall have to move on yet again. Continue reading →