Yesterday I was secretly intending to comment on my current reading of Steve Silberman's Neurotribes (an ultra-short summary is in his TED talk, which motivated me to read the book finally). Maybe I can get to it in a round-about way. Ever since a bunch of friends half-convinced me that I can obviously classify myself … Continue reading Bastardising Neurotribes with indigenous cosmologies
Category: Between cultures
How Berlin converted me to Marxism-Leninism
Well, not precisely. But in one of the cuddling sessions, N. said, matter shapes consciousness – rather than the reverse (or perhaps, much more than the reverse). I have not invested the time into researching whether this line of pop-marxism from the lips of my punk-dyed psychedelic-ingesting Berlin queer friend represents the theoretical plot accurately … Continue reading How Berlin converted me to Marxism-Leninism
Celan and the mother tongue
I vaguely remember reading that Paul Celan, the Jewish-German poet born in Romania and going through the Shoah, had issues writing in German after the Holocaust. That makes more than sense. Yet, wikipedia claims he said: "There is nothing in the world for which a poet will give up writing, not even when he is a … Continue reading Celan and the mother tongue
Human, just more so (2)
When writing the last post, I got tired and actually just stopped – after one section – before I got to the point. There was a point to the title. It's a quote from somewhere, I don't remember where – one of the last book on ASD I read (Valerie Gaus, "Living well on the … Continue reading Human, just more so (2)
Update on autistics in cities, sanity as a currency and tribal apoptosis
Long break from writing. Moving to another city in another country and a different (sub)culture, living with something like a partner, dealing with city, changes, trying to manage arranging an apartment. Too much to deal with to keep a focus on writing. Both good times in a busy way, and just overwhelm from too many … Continue reading Update on autistics in cities, sanity as a currency and tribal apoptosis
Intergenerational trauma re-play
It was definitely a well-scripted play. Setting, surprise, suspense, culmination, resolution, aftermath, reverberations. A good portion of drama, directed by the echoes of the past, the fruitfulness and irritability of the moment, and a certain aesthetic sensitivity. Philharmonic sensitivity. When to increase the tension and volume, when to let it abate. The fallout was and … Continue reading Intergenerational trauma re-play
Freedom
Could I learn from you – freedom? I felt your heart wasn't chained your mind wasn't chained. You had no securities and you were at times fragile and naked like a snail or the wing of an insect, still moist and sticky. . Is this enough to be happy? . I wondered how you'd come … Continue reading Freedom
Found in one of the suitcases
Pasha, I remember your room full of suitcases, wigs manequins and – what the heck else? One of 7 rooms. Was your mum's spirit in there? . I remember they were made of leather, not plastic, and one of them said 1956? I remember the photos from Cambridge. How did you get through there as … Continue reading Found in one of the suitcases
Language and trauma
/*this is a mild article on trauma related to cultural alienation from the perspective of someone whose migration experiences weren't dramatic or violent thank God, so no trigger warnings. Brief and non-graphic mention of a friend's refugee camp story*/ This morning found myself looking at the signup information for a professional course in trauma therapy … Continue reading Language and trauma