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 →
Theory of Mind is a theory, or is it? Dancing around alien fires. Whose Theory and whose Mind?
While it is not true that autistic people lack empathy due to their inability to decipher other people’s mindscapes, I myself admit to being stumped, over and over again, by other people’s thoughts, motives, and actions.
Take, for example, this somewhat questionable penchant for offering help, mixed with an innate inability to make quick enough assessment of character and/or predict potential disaster. Not a good combination by far. Continue reading →
Musing on the act of biting and relationships. No, not about dogs. Humans.
Lunched with an old friend last week. At my favourite haunt, of course. I am a creature of comfortable habit. We’ve known each other for more than 40 years and counting. A childhood friend. A rare gem, in this day of unpredictability and flux.
Relationships. Relatedness. Relatives. Relativity. A minefield or impending doom, or pasture of goodness? It depends. Teetering, mostly, and / or prancing delicately with fearful vigour through the swaying tulips, trying to avoid crushing the flowers but often failing to notice the sharp glass shards on the ground. Continue reading →
Work in progress – Ground Floor installation – Clement Space in the City
Tactile pad and Cosy Tent – Clement Space in the City @ Customs House
A mini pod in Clement Space in the City
Cosy Corner – Clement Space in the City
Work in progress…
It’s been more than a week battling this cold and cough. My voice is all but gone. I sound like a constipated frog (do frogs really constipate?). Been through the dramatic works, the wailing, flailing, fainting and vomiting stuff etc, and now finally on the mend. Still coughing alarmingly – feels like the guts are all going to spurt out at some point or other – and noticing some pretty aghast looks being thrown my way, through the tears in my eyes while attempting to blow my nose. Too much multitasking, being sick is unpleasant for anyone, but being sick with hypersensitivity cranks up the ‘horrid’ volume manifold levels … and over and over. I am missing my Lucy. A lot. Clement Space was inspired by Lucy.
Nevertheless… I have been building clement space… in little ways, struggling valiantly, and in the more ‘official’ manifestation, of course, the exhibition. The show must go on, and so it shall! Continue reading →
I spent the last few nights and days in this sofa, positioned right next to the loo. For safety, because I nearly fell down the winding stairs connecting to the loft bed. And for convenience, in case I had to throw up. A good thing I am short, but still, I have not laid down properly in a bed, stretched out, for this entire time. Continue reading →
Photograph description: Lucy Like-a-Charm creates Clement Space wherever she goes. The above three photos show how she appropriates her Bichon-poodle cousin, Bizcuit’s, bed, which is a tad too small to contain her massive Greyhound body. In the first photo, she tries to pour into the bed, but her Greyhound butt falls off the edge. In the second photo, she lays her head down, she decides that she is content, and settles down for a snooze. The third photo shows Lucy sleeping, butt on floor, legs and head on the bed.
Lucy is a major influence on my concept of Clement Space, especially the idea that we can create mental and physical spaces of grace wherever we may be. Momentary respite. A place in which to repair and replenish sensory equilibrium.
Sometimes, to the casual observer, it may look awkward, seem uncomfortable even, or appear bizarre. However, Clement Space is ours, it is intimate, and we should feel safe to own it.
Little morsels of grace. Foody Dogliness while pup-sitting.
Some weeks ago, I spent a few days at my friend’s place, looking after my Godson, a handsome young Greyhound. Lucy came along, of course. It was pleasant, I actually relished the quietude and isolation. I was in good company, with two beautiful black Greyhounds by my side, wordless communication and elemental empathic resonance.
The photos of my food speak about this gentleness. Most of the time, I ate what came delivered by the caterer. Other times, I ordered in. There seems to be a tranquil Sarabande quality to the images captured. I like eating alone.
Sometimes, Clement Space can exist inside inclemency.
I recently spent 3 days and 2 nights at a holiday chalet with immediate and extended family. A grand spectacle of non-stop sensory overload. Unceasing noise. Human chatter at booming, roaring, shrieking, penetrating volume. Clattering of mahjong tiles into the wee, wee, wee-est hours. Thick, choking smells from the barbecue, food being cooked all day, cigarettes (smokers were very considerate, they only smoked outside, but my olfactory receptors picked this up too), and burning mosquito coils.
Oh, yes, and food. An over abundance of food. So much that it became overwhelming, even for a Foodie Bunny. Continue reading →