As a kid, most of my spare time was spent drawing. It was my earliest passion. I was no savant. But I suppose, on reflection, I did have at least some innate "gift". The people I colourfully produced aged just three, in bright felt tip, were anatomically correct (in as much as having, for example, … Continue reading A passion, stolen
In between bouts of abject misery, whilst I've been off work over the summer holidays I've been immersed in a nice little obsession that has gripped every single member of our four-person household. My husband was always a huge Lego fan as a child, and was always eager, from her birth, for our girl to … Continue reading In praise of the brick
[Author's note: I'm publishing this post almost simultaneously with a previous one because I had both stored up as drafts in my paper notebook, but hadn't had sufficient "get-up-and-go" to publish them until now. This is the more recent of the two.. However, I felt that the other post was sufficiently time-specific to need publishing … Continue reading It’s never all bad.
[Author's note: I'm publishing this post almost simultaneously with a subsequent one because I had both stored up as drafts in my paper notebook, but hadn't had sufficient "get-up-and-go" to publish them until now. This was written a few days ago, and it doesn't quite fit my current mood – the accompanying post does. However, … Continue reading Picture this.
[Author's note: I'm kind of less happy with this article the more I reflect upon its subject matter. I fully acknowledge it's not entirely credible from an 'academic' standpoint - I kind of didn't get what "gifted" meant in technical/clinical terms. I've had a few conversations with folks more tapped into the research behind, and … Continue reading I’m not “gifted”.
I think it is funny, in an ironic way, that so many people try to tell us how to identify and refer to ourselves. They say we shouldn’t use identity first language when we say we are autistic. We should say we are people with autism because we are people first. via the language of identity, … Continue reading Sharing: the language of identity, or “I am not an autism parent” — Michelle Sutton
I talk to myself. An awful lot. When I do this, I'm almost invariably verbalising my thinking about, and processing of, the thing I'm doing at that particular moment. This isn't the same as the inner monologue that runs incessantly over everything that I do; the one I hear at every waking moment, but which … Continue reading Director’s Commentary
It's a whole month since I last wrote a blog post, which seems an awfully long time. A couple of weeks ago, I celebrated one year since it was formally confirmed to me that I'm autistic. I'd been intending to write about it around the date of my "autiversary", but I've been pretty short on … Continue reading One year on