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 …

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Travel with the small or the big backpack?

Personal reflections on decades of pseudo-nomadism, packing, love, meaning, painting, and generally pretending to have an adventurous and deep life.

Torn between the company of humans, of nature, of self. Some perhaps autistic perspectives.

I saw clouds of sadness of slowness I was welcoming solitude with a safety net with an "other shore". . I'm not sure why it's so difficult: either I am with you, and then I feel the compulsion to know in each split second what exactly you expect from me, what to say, what to …

Sabbath of the (trans) witches at the red river

I walked out into the woods talking with you one the phone until darkness fell and I had to find my way back with the deer crossing. . So you say you've been a man, just like I've been a woman. Sometimes you still are. I know, I see that duality, although I'm not sure …

Song played late night with eyes closed. Piano improvisation.

This post is what it says on the can. Relatively relaxing and pensive piano music that I've played last night at 1 am while being completely tired, falling asleep (eyes closed), and not looking at the keys. This seems to be the most fun, to be honest. Just playing with textures, forgetting about harmony or …

Autistic masking and authenticity. #TakeTheMaskOff

Personal stories in the context of #TakeTheMaskOff – hiding and camouflaging autism spectrum traits for so-called social acceptability. How I did it, why and how I'm doing it less, results. . Accusations of authenticity I've been accused by a friend, a while ago, of always trying to be completely authentic. Even in situations in which …

Another one on anchors and lighthouses. Losing electronics while traveling and the joys of aspie meltdowns in unknown places.

When leaving Berlin last time, I forgot my laptop charger. I was so extremely focussed on not forgetting to put the laptop into the case and the case into the bag (seems that's sufficient executive function complexity for my travel stressed mind) that I forgot to routine check where the charger is. I don't like …