100BPM<

My biometer* tells me that around 4am my heart rate was over 100BPM and that I was asleep. This is true – I was having a nightmare, my first in ages. I woke in sweat, scared upon remembering aspects of the dream. This was not a night terror, though. My night terrors ceased in January this year, after having them nearly every second night for over a decade. I never remembered the content of night terrors, but would wake terrified and need to change my pyjamas for the sweat. Nightmares are scary, but don’t hold a candle to terrors. Today … Continue reading 100BPM<

Skate Arena: March redux

  I grew up on the outskirts of Canberra in the 80s, and now live in ipswich: liminal, condemned, and abandoned places are my bones, crumbly and old. So, of course, I went to the ‘open day‘ at the Red Hill Skate Arena Cinema; construction had commenced, hazards of the old site removed. Many people. URGH. Like many 20th Century heritage sites, Skate Arena is fragile. Abandoned, fuckers snuck in and set the place on fire; old and wooden, so no fire suppressant systems; accessible location, now prime real-estate for gentrified nobs. Skate Arena was incredibly important hub to so many … Continue reading Skate Arena: March redux

Why am I doing things when I said that I wouldn’t be doing things?

I’m offering quick, cheap footwear repairs this Sunday as part of the clothing exchange. This is _not_ the same as taking on new orders: I’m unsure of my capacity to sit in a room full of chatty people, even if I know and like them (actually, I am sure – no, soz); I can, however, sit in an adjacent room, channeling any residual anxiety through the medium of practical, tactile problem-solving; Connection is crucial to mental wellbeing – these folk are my community, and we are working together on a project with the broader community in mind; At the previous … Continue reading Why am I doing things when I said that I wouldn’t be doing things?

Don’t call the police.

At what point am I classed as disabled? When I am conceived? My amazing brain differs sharply from the majority of other amazing brains in how sensory input is processed and coded. This difference will have lifelong effects, not only in how I perceive the world, but in how the world accommodates my needs. Am I disabled as a young child, when my family and I struggle to communicate with each other? I am autistic, they are not. We can’t understand each other. Am I disabled at school? I’m very bright, but can’t function in a school environment. I don’t … Continue reading Don’t call the police.

Repair: Starfire 500

1. Yellowing cement indicates that it has dried out and is no longer active. This chemical change, along with skating mechanics and narrow fit of the boot style, caused the upper to pull away from underneath the fibreboard insole on the outer sides of both boots. 2. I sanded the lasting allowance with a rotary tool, wiped it down with solvent, then gently pushed the upper back into place. 3. Through a cunning combination of levering/ pushing/ bracing I set the upper in place, only gluing about an inch at a time (any more than this would have been difficult … Continue reading Repair: Starfire 500

When I was just a little girl

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”   Until recently, I was still asking this question. I think we still ask the question of “what do we want to be?” because we are still kids at heart. We don’t really know what we want to do. We now just have to earn money and pay bills and do other adult stuff.   In a sugar-powered epiphany* the other week I decided I wanted to be an explorer. When I was a tiny person I wanted to either be a palaeontologist or a Time Lord. At the end … Continue reading When I was just a little girl