Autistic Art

I’ve been thinking a lot about being an autistic artist. I’ve been thinking a lot about everything. There’s been a lot to think about during Lockdown, a lot to realise and come to terms with. I’ve been thinking about being an autistic artist, and what that means, how it works for me. There can be …

Finding your Polytunnel: Autism

What on Earth has a polytunnel got to do with autism? What even is a polytunnel? What are you talking about? Is this a tangent too far? All fair questions, and all with answers - tangential as they might be. I’m writing this from my polytunnel. It’s a ten metre, steel-framed structure covered in some …

The Power of ‘Can’ over ‘Should’

I love words. I love how they roll around my tongue and catch on my teeth. I love how they dangle and splutter and sometimes struggle to find their way out. Last week I did something new. I entered poems in a competition that required a reading. It was easy enough, I signed my name …

The Autistic

Written and performed by... well... me. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pvgeXCyifJQ&feature=share

Autism Poetry

I always struggle to write poetry specifically about autism. How do you write about a process? You end up bogged down in the behaviours that result from it, instead of the thing you were trying to focus on.  These are last night's headscribbles.  I hope you enjoy them.  When I try to write About the …

Mother’s Day

I'm not a lover of cards. In fact I loathe them. Little demanders of time and obligation. They sit there demanding to be bought and written and sent as tokens of love. And I don't. I don't send them, because they don't mean anything to me. Particularly at set times of year. An arbitrary day …

National Poetry Day

I've been playing with poetry recently, and since its national poetry day I'm going to pop this one up. I had written it for a specific competition, but my executive function issues got in the way, and I ended up missing the deadline. Ah well. It's an attempt at a Welsh style called a Cynghanedd …

Daisy Chains

In a field of wheat I'm a daisy. The stalks grow close and suffocating, Their shade starves me, Their paper touch deserts me. When the wind blows and they move in waves I cannot bend with them. I watch them move together, Beautiful and swirling, As they jostle my leaves. I am a daisy in …

Ode to autism