I took a class called The Psychology of Happiness. It was a fantastic course, but focused on neurotypical brains. For my final project, I created some of the tools we talked about, including colouring sheets, via a neurodiverse lens. I’m sharing them so families with kids who may not be looking for Elsa or Hot Wheels can use them while working and teaching from home. Enjoy!
To access the full sized image, click on the thumbnail!
What does one do during a laid-off lock-down? Write about love and Pride. My micro-fic, Toronto Pride, 1995, is now up at Lunate. Go, enjoy this very short shot of love set in a time of social closeness, before social media.
Poet and professor Orchid Tierney has organized a virtual reading series called Distāntia. She calls it “an experimentation with intimate social distancing through remote access poetry.”
My poem is about the value that people who are often forgotten bring to a crisis. The wisdom of survival doesn’t always wear a three piece suit. Sometimes it wears a Chewbacca onesie and hides out in its blanket fort, thank you very much.
I’m not so much an actor, but I will always pretend to be one for D.J. Sylvis . Everything they write makes my heart sing, so when they offered me a chance to revisit a character I voiced in season one of Moonbase Theta, Out, I hopped in. This bonus episode was a joy to record. I won’t give any spoilers, but oh – my heart-parts.
This poem was written to celebrate Augur Magazine reaching their 200th backer on their Kickstarter. Yay! If you’d like to back them, click here. Even if you can’t, please share the Kickstarter wherever you can. And no matter what, enjoy this promised poem about space cake.
Happy Birthday to Me by H. E. Casson
Dear mom, From here in space I think of you While eating cake
Another thought It made me stop
Is that I’ll never lick the blades
You know – From when you beat the eggs And sugar Flour, butter, cream And then you’d scream “Turn that thing off And get this treat!”
(There always was a thing – A TV Game Computer screen)
Off it’d go And you would show me How to lick Between the blades Until we’d made A mess of us
I’ll tell you
Cake in outer space Is soft and moist To keep its shape It floats and clings The crew all sings From pouches Happy birthday squeezed
And I am seized By memories of you And how I’ll never lick the blades Created by a cake you’ve made
I traded cake for Outer space
And outer space is bigger than The memories we make
I ate a thin girl for breakfast today I heard her bones crackle as they gave way I watched my belly grow in size I saw the fat distending my thighs She tasted like two-day-old gristly chicken I thought, as my arms touched my sides as they thickened
I ate a skinny girl for lunch I heard her crunch
I ate a slender girl for dinner She didn’t even flinch She swallowed the air until she was thinner Counted every inch
I ate a thin girl for breakfast today (I used to be like you, I grinned) In keeping my promise I fed her a steak Then carefully shovelled her in
I ate a thin girl last night as a snack I was a thin girl and I’m not going back
Published in the Meat issue of (Ex)cite magazine in Winter, 2001.