object-thing

Autistic pursuits and objects of passion: lavish indulgence or crucial intervention?

Autism advocacy can be devastating savagery to the Autistic Artist’s soul. Relentless and aggressive, the crass normative dominance chaffing against autistic fragility, valiantly struggling to be heard amidst Daedalian gyrations, asphyxiating gas-lighting and gelid silence, is crippling.

The Artist needs to recover Sense of Soul, that Clement Space within which emanates forth, once revived and strengthened, as vibrant virtuosity and vitality. Spiritual Sustenance.

And this Autistic Artist has been slowly mending, resuscitating, rearranging, invigorating and awakening Clement Space, Autistic Joy.

An ongoing exercise that is critical to Beingness, that marks the difference between bleak existence and dynamic Life.

This morning, I unearthed an important Object that performs a key role in this unfolding and unpacking. It is non-functional in the mundane utilitarian sense – a pair of old Ferragamo wedge shoes transformed with rocks, cheap plastic baubles and paint. It cannot be worn, it does not fit into the category of High Art, whatever that is spun out to mean, it is not aesthetically pleasing in a general sense, and it has no monetary value. Yet, it is functional because it serves a completely different purpose, sublime yet forcefully tangible to the ones who are able to perceive its potency. For this Autistic Artist, who created this object-thing, it and the act of bringing it out of its storage space, of un-hiding, un-masking, marks another hidden, intimate junction of reflection and compulsion towards healing and growth.

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Eyes of Pulchritude

When interacting with an autistic person, it is best to speak with clarity, and be honest. Blunt honesty is valued in our autistic social system. We prize the truth, and we admire those with the courage to speak it and stand by it. Cards on table, nothing hidden.

If you think Gas Lighting is insidious, wait till you are caught in the midst of ‘Asian-style’ subterfuge. You’d be made to doubt your own name after awhile, and discredited using your autism diagnosis, with its plethora of ‘deficits,’ against you.

There is an old Cantonese saying that aptly describes the kind of spurious babbling that usually follows when petty trickery is uncovered and the truth is laid bare as a baby’s bottom on a damp monsoon day:

“Fallen flat on your face and still trying to claim you were just collecting sand.”

Autistic people get that ‘sand box’ sophism all the time from the neuronormative, and we are expected – demanded – to accept it. Or be damned. But that is just the lower-level type of social gyrating, the kind that people with big hearts and large vision may choose to just laugh off.

Pardon me, please? Could you please kindly say that again?

Bitte wiederholen Sie?

Ah, mais non. There is a higher-order that is far more treacherous, the exquisitely Machiavellian type reserved for the Grand Masters of Perfidy.

臥虎藏龍 – The Crouching Tigers and Hidden Dragons are the highest order of complex social-political manoeuvrings that utterly confound Autistic Honesty. Next to these, we are well and truly “socially impaired”.

What should the Exhausted Autistic Entity do in such situations? There may be many suggestions and tactics advised by wiser souls than I. For me, it is time to just walk away – redirect and go along my way with my soul still intact. Leave the Magnificent Ostentatious Stage of Good Deeding. My old friends Artaud and Wagner are no match for these Maestros. We shall attend to lesser matters of Autistic Joy and Autistic Beauty.

Clement Space awaits, and there is Lucy, silently watching and anticipating with her eyes of pulchritude.

Empowering Beauty

In an ugly world, attempting Empowerment of Beauty can be a dreadful struggle, one which goes against the fundamental nature of Beauty itself. But we need to keep going, believing, hoping, lest darkness engulfs & destroys.

Imagine a world in which different kinds of minds contribute from diverse platforms to form a dynamic, cohesive, global whole.

Imagine safer, gentler and stronger communities in which eclectic ways of thinking may thrive within a Neurocosmopolitan culture of resonant, empathic vibrancy.

It is not my purpose to ‘fix’ what I ‘broken’, but to empower Beauty in the vulnerable and unnoticed.

Uniquely Me Episode 5 – engulfed

Episode 5 of “Uniquely Me” aired tonight on MediaCorp’s Channel 8.

Uniquely Me – episode 5

I have to say this episode was the most unsettling to watch – almost sliding down the slippery slope of the tragedy-cum-heroic narrative, this episode featured two ‘strong’ women speaking about their lives with their autistic children, who are now young adults.

I felt very sad for the young man, Zhen Yu. Far be it for me to doubt his mother’s love for him, her dedication towards the young man pervaded the space, but there were many moments in her interaction with the young man that made me cringe and even bristle. I felt his distress, there were moments where I knew he was attempting to communicate, but the mother completely missed the gestures and sounds he made, and she chided him, as if he was a naughty toddler making a nuisance of himself, preventing her from ‘adulting’ in front of the camera. There was a split second where she even grimaced and rolled her eyes. There was a sense of embarrassment, she looked exasperated and annoyed, when interacting with him. The mother spoke mostly about her hopelessness and despair, not his.

The other autistic young person, Edura, appeared to be happier – there was a lot of physical affection going on and some smiles and laughs. Edura’s mother runs workshops or ‘sharing’ sessions for other mothers with autistic children, on physical touch and muscle relaxation. I did cringe at the word “heal” – just like “cure” and “recover” all speak of ableist concepts of autism as a scourge / disease – but I’ve come to expect it of the neuronormative way of thinking.

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neurodivergent world

Clement Space @ Playeum 2019 – Dawn-joy Leong

Seems as if I’ve been involved in quite a few “firsts” in Singapore lately. The most recent was the very first Autism/Neurodivergent-Led, Disabled-Led Art & Design residency, which was support by the National Library’s library@orchard branch, and yesterday saw the soft opening of Singapore’s first Neurodivergent immersive and interactive space – crafted by two autistic artists and two artists with Down syndrome, curated by Esther Joosa and Imran Mohamed for Playeum, a centre for children to discover creativity in multiple ways. Continue reading

Uniquely Me Episode 1 – a perspective

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The first episode of “Uniquely Me” – a series about autism and autistic lives in Singapore – aired last night on MediaCorp’s Chinese Channel 8. Immediately afterwards, there were rumblings and rants emerging from the adult autistic community in chat groups and on Facebook.

Background

Some contextual background is needed before I launch into my own perspectives and reactions to this twenty minute show.

Autistic people – we are an oppressed and traumatised, vulnerable and hurting community worldwide. As autistics, we are already predisposed towards hypersensitivity, detail orientation, and communicate with the world in ways unlike the normative. Add to this the accumulated collective cultural history of Autism (see Steve Silberman’s “Neurotribes” – the best book published thus far on the history of autism), and the specific situation here in Singapore, where the perception of autism as a whole is mired in the old medical model, and autistic people are generally presumed incompetent rather than competent, completely devoid of our own voice / voices: we have thus acquired a collective trauma, and individual heightened anxiety around the subject of Selfhood. The setting is a painfully raw, tender, largely confused and ignorant, and emotionally volatile scenario. It is not surprising, then, that many in the adult autistic community have reacted explosively, with anger and shock, at this very stark presentation of autistic persons with complex needs in the first episode. Continue reading