An Autistic Storyteller in Salzburg

A felted symbol of Lucy, wearing a bright pink fabric flower collar, sitting in the grass at the Schloss Leopoldskron.
Photo by Breech Asher Harani

Here is my latest article, for Salzburg Global, about my most recent experience as a Fellow in their programme, Creating Futures: Art of Narratives, in April this year. It was not an autism or disability focused event, but I felt a gentle, un-intrusive and organic sense of inclusion that I had not before in other events, not even in the many events I’d attended centred around autism or disabilities. For a week in the beautiful Schloss Leopoldskron, we were simply a communion of humans from eclectic backgrounds, sharing intense passion and purpose. Thank you, Salzburg Global, so honoured to be a Fellow of this wonderful institution!

Please access it on the Salzburg Global site via this link:
An Autistic Storyteller in Salzburg

Thanking the Grass

Photo by Breech Harani

A thought piece for Autism Month, reposted from Scheherazade’s Sea’s site, original title “Travelogue 4 – Gratitude”.


Thanking the grass. I have begun this new habit, exulting in an enhanced awareness, a practice for which I want to thank Salzburg Global, because this genteel ‘revelation’ emerged from my week long experience immersed in the beauty of the Schloss Leopoldskron, while attending their exciting programme, “Creating Futures: Art of Narrative”.

Gratitude.

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Taking Up Space, Holding Space at Salzburg Global

Our First Quiet Table

It’s almost the end of April, and I have been trying to post a daily personal thought-piece on Linked-In on my “taking up space” as a proudly Autistic human in this grand swirl of humanity. Why Linked-In? Simply because I wanted to. Yes, I know it’s not really the kind of thing people post on Linked-In. I see that I am once again doing something almost nobody else is doing. But I am not bothered if nobody reads it or likes it or whatever. I am merely taking up space, holding space, nothing more grand, clever or fanciful. Lucy taught me how to enjoy a posture of meekness without relinquishing enjoyment and security in one’s unique Beingness. It is possible. Not always “comfortable”, but it is another form of Clement Space to me. I thrive better this way. Thank you, Lucy.

I am also wanting to do my part this April, as an Autistic human, in a month that is controversial – loathed by some Autistics and welcomed by others, the latter especially in my region of the world. But not as an Advocate, a label that was placed on me that I never asked for. The hat just did not fit well at all, though I wore it as best as I could, especially in my country when I first returned from Australia, when there was nobody else to stand in the gap. Now, I see there are many powerful advocates, the field of advocacy does not need me, not even in my own country anymore. To be honest, I am relieved. I have been on social media since the days when Facebook began as an invitation-only platform, and blogging was the only way to reach and connect with other Autistic humans. Back then, I did not worry about ‘likes’ of ‘followers’, I don’t think it was even a ‘thing’ at the time. I never did put much importance in this, I was reticent even when the ‘following’ and ‘liking’ started to trend into a full blown slugging match, though I did think that I ought to get in on the act a bit more, but of course failed miserably because my heart and soul were not aligned with that movement anyway, and now, at this point of my journey, it completely does not matter at all. The only caution and thought I have learned through the years to exercise is for my own safety and privacy, because there is so much that is awful about social media these days. For me, I maintain a presence because I want to, and because it is easier to update my few friends and supporters this way, but my main focus is on being a witness to my own journey, telling my personal story wherever I am welcomed, at every interstice I possibly can. My mission is simple. I do all nowadays in honour of Lucy Like-a-Charm, who showed me another dimension of perceiving, receiving and living, and how to be human in my own best possible way. I admit that the ability to choose this path is a luxury and privilege for which I remind myself to be grateful always. I just want to tell our story, nothing more.

This thought-piece is about my personal experience of the observation and upholding of diversity, equity, and inclusion, and receiving the supports I requested, during my latest adventure in Salzburg.

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Lucy Like-a-Charm – Elemental Empathic Resonance.

Author’s note:
This piece took me awhile to complete, because I have been struggling with the devastating aftermath of Lucy’s death on my mind, body and every part of my existence. I was invited some time ago to write a reflection for a blog-journal, but upon submitting it on 4th July 2023 at 14:22 Singapore time, I was told by the editor (in the UK) that they will push back my article to end July, because the editor was too busy with other things. Coincidentally, they have just published another piece expressing almost identical thoughts, though written in a completely different style, of course. I am fine with that. The more people asking the same questions, the louder our voices become.

I have therefore decided to put mine here, unedited, with date and time reflecting the exact moment my piece was submitted via cyber-waves into the Great Unknown. Whether or not the journal’s editor decides to publish it in the near future, when and with what edits they deem fit, is immaterial to me. The Artist respects the autonomous entity of The Work, which will forge onwards along its own inexorable path, free from the tyranny of control and manipulation at the hands of humans preoccupied by and with human-centric glorification and maniacal demands of human ego. After some deeper contemplation, I feel that The Work, in this embodiment, is telling me that it would like to be launched from this Clement Space, an interstice created for me, for us both, by Lucy, because it is in its very purest essence an intimate tribute to Lucy, and to her and only her, do I really owe anything at all. When the Artist frees The Work, the Artist shall also be emancipated. I love you so, Lucy Like-a-Charm, thank you for teaching me such profound sensing.

Content warning: suicide and death is discussed in this article.


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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.

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.

Children’s Biennale @ National Gallery

I was invited to the Opening of the Children’s Biennale at the National Gallery today. My anxious mind of course required a two-day preparation for this, but I had been looking forward to it since the invitation arrived in my email’s Inbox. The build up was, of course, a gradual crescendo at first, and then a rapid stretto build up as the event drew nigh. Anxiety + hypersenses + attention to detail all jumbled together. Creating order from chaos is part of the reason behind all the careful planning that precedes every single occasion.

The National Gallery has now become my favourite art space in Singapore. I love old historical buildings, and this one is a grand one. There are many small little quiet nooks dotted around the huge expanse that one can duck into for some respite, if things get too overwhelming. There are some inaccessible spaces that wheelchair users would be unable to reach, unfortunately, due to the nature of the building, but they’ve done their best to make the exhibits as accessible as possible. I am truly bowled over by the National Gallery’s efforts towards access and inclusion, something I’ve not experienced to this extent in Singapore before. Lucy is welcome in this space, and they treated us like royalty the first time we came (which was a tad over the top, but I deeply appreciate the care they took of us, a stark contrast to always being stopped at the door with many a gruff, “NO DOG ALLOWED!”), but I left Lucy at home today because she wasn’t feeling very well.

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Reluctant Advocate

I am not an “Autism Activist” – far from it – so, please do not call me that. Thank you. I do support the work of activists, it is a necessary force when things are woefully wrong and a great deal of vim and vigour is needed to create change for the better. It is just that my natural constitution does not fit well with the vivacity required for effective activism. Sometimes, though, I do engage in advocacy. Well, all right, quite often especially of late, but this is not what I deliberately set out to do. I am, first and foremost, an autistic researcher and multi-artist. Unpacking this further, my research interests include (but are not confined to) autism, autistic sensory idiosyncrasies, alternative and elemental empathic resonance, clement spaces of mind and body, and my material practice reflects this research, employing multiple artistic disciplines. I love my research and multi-art practice, and I adore my beloved Lucy Like-a-Charm, the two represent mental, emotional and physical wellbeing and equilibrium to me. Continue reading

bloviation & the sacrificial lamb

My recent casual blog post, musing on Arts and Disability, and the devastating effects of non-disabled colonisation of the disability conversation, theory and practice in any field, with a focus on the arts, simply because this is my field of research and praxis.

“Perhaps it is time to take the entire conversation back and situate it on our own platform – the Actually Autistic / Actually Disabled stage. One that we choose for ourselves, not that which is designed and built by the non-disabled colonising forces. One in which there is no prerequisite social-political posturing of ambiguous, veiled or hushed up mumblings, no copious mists of gas lighting, and no contemptuous slime of condescension. Just honest truth and a light shining onto a path ahead clear of the debris of gurgling bloviation. Is this even a possibility, I wonder?”