I am the canvas
that's been painted upon
over and over again
by the world.

The canvas started out white,
but only for a moment,
for my mother was the first to make a mark on me,
adding a pinkish hue onto the canvas,
while protecting it with a veneer -
love underpins everything.

From there,
every little thing
added to the canvas,
sometimes with new paint, sometimes with erasures:

the little treat coming from the kitchen
tickling my mouth with bits of sugar,

exploring a new place on the spinning ball
that I call home,

digging into a fresh read
that allows me a passage into someone's psyche,

allowing my brain to be soothed
by a singer once unbeknownst by me,

listening to nature's melodies
as I let the river run wild beneath my feet,

or even something as simple as a friendly chess game
or the observation of the steam
coming off a cup of cocoa on a winter's night,
wondering where the wind takes it.

All this leads to my canvas
becoming a colorful mosaic
which I can only dream
of describing in words.

Reflection

So, there’s two things that made this come into existence.

The first thing, which is the initial trigger, was the announcement of books opening for a tattoo artist that I follow, Elise Jensen. She was the person that did my sunflower tattoo back in June.

Tattoos are art, of course, where ink is the medium, and the human skin is the canvas that’s worked on. The interpretation of them are twofold. Firstly, there’s the artist that takes the request that you give them, and turning it into something that can be put on you… forever. Second, the person that is getting the tattoo tries to connect it back to their lives in some way. Sometimes it has a deep, personal meaning (for instance, the sunflower relates to my work on promoting the Hidden Disabilities Sunflower, as well as it being my favorite flower). Sometimes it is a form of connection with another person. Sometimes, however, it may have no meaning other than being a reflection of your mind state at a particular time in your life.

Those stories give a snippet of the mosaic of your life.

That leads to the second thing that made this come to be, which is another poem. That poem is by one of my favorite poets, , and the poem is called “You Are Poetry”1:

Threads Of Hope

You Are Poetry

Threads of Hope is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber…

Read more

5 months ago · 9 likes

In that poem Emma-Jane makes the reasonable claim that everything that we do is art, even if we don’t realize it. She then goes on to state several things showcasing how we make art, even if it isn’t something physical. Of particular note is the second to last thing that she mentions, loving others. Human connections can really shape a person - especially when love is one of the roots of the connection.2

I portray this shaping by adding to or removing from the canvas. Every interaction, every person I meet, every place I go does this. Eventually, the canvas becomes full, and the true beauty of my life becomes apparent.

To try to describe this beauty in words is nearly impossible, even with the short amount of time that I’ve been on this planet…

…maybe that’s why tattoos exist, to serve as a better way of communicating our stories.3

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

Last week, Stimpunks made a blog post called Infodumplings, which was a call to contribute to a project that they are working on: Cavendish Cards. The initial set of cards consisted of 55 cards, separated into 7 families (places, weather, what helps, lily pads, growers, love locutions, and interaction), as well as blank cards within each family, which are put into the deck to allow the deck to grow and adapt, if gaps are identified (more about that in a moment).

These cards are held in a public GitHub repository where people can view them, fork the project, make improvements, and then merge the changes for all to see. Since the initial launch of the project there have been an additional 39 cards added to the deck, mostly in the “weather” and “what helps” families. This makes sense - we want a way to be able to communicate what we are feeling internally, and how to make ourselves more regulated.

One family remains untouched - the places family. These are 5 places within this family, which correspond with the Cavendish spaces. These are the following:

• The cave - typically a private place where people are alone. Here, people can either reflect on their learning, or rest.

• The campfire - a place where a few people that you know come in and share. A good example of this in practice in my life is Crip Craft Club by The Remote Body, which is presently on hold while a new steward is located.

• The watering hole - a place for social learning. Here, we hang with other people and potentially interact with them. Joining in is optional.

• The library - a central place where all of one’s knowledge is kept.

• The habitat - the four spaces listed above live inside the habitat. This represents the environment that the person resides in. Arguably, this is the most important space to maintain. If the habitat is not well, then this would correspond to an environment that does not meet the needs of the person. This could be situational (for instance, a room that does not satisfy the desired sensory levels of the person) or more foundational (for instance, being in a situation where certain elements of Maslow’s pyramid1 are not being met).

Are these sufficient to cover everything? Or is there something missing?

As I’ve mentioned earlier on, the card deck is designed to be able to expand to handle more situations. This includes the places family. So, that leads to the following question: do these five places cover everything, or do we need another place?

One thing I notice with all of the places is that they all focus on learning. In the case of the cave, we are learning by ourselves. With the campfire, we learn from trusted people. With the watering hole, we learn from other peers, including potentially strangers. The library maintains the knowledge we know, and the habitat governs how well we learn.

This is well and good, but we are missing something important. What we are missing is a place to synthesize something new based on what we know. This place should be connected to the others, in some way, yet not all encompassing, as in the case of the habitat. It should also allow for creativity to flourish. I purpose that a bakery would be the perfect way to showcase this.

The Bakery

To see why a bakery would fit within the framework, let us consider a real bakery.

A bakery typically has a bunch of raw ingredients, like flour, sugar, milk, butter, spices, etc., as well as a variety of tools that can be used to process these ingredients into something useful, such as ovens, refrigerators, mixers, and so on. At least one person operates inside making goods, using recipes that are either written down or kept in memory, or, if one is feeling particularly daring, by experimentation. After some time in the bakery, baked goods are made, which may be kept by the person who made them for consumption, or shared to the people.

Occasionally, ingredients must be swapped out as they spoil or go bad, and equipment might need to be repaired in order to keep the bakery operating well. If these are neglected, the quality of the work suffers.

Now, how do we translate this to the framework of Cavendish spaces?

The raw ingredients and tools are things that we have learned over time, which we keep in the library. Depending on whether other people are involved or not, we can cohabit either the cave or the campfire2. Sharing our work can be done in either the campfire or the watering hole settings34. This may result in receiving feedback, which can be used to take our creative ventures further - encouraging us to return back to the bakery to make more.

Of course, for one to be creative, conditions must allow for creativity to flow freely. This occurs when the habitat is well maintained. If the habitat is not maintained, or if one enters a flow state for an extended period of time and forgets about meeting their needs, then creative output might suffer.

Based on this, I can say that a bakery card within the Cavendish deck would best be paired with the other place cards, indicating that we want to be creative. In rare circumstances, it could be played by itself - if, say, we are looking to either set up a new creative practice, or to make the environment more suitable for being creative in some way.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

A while ago, I ran into the Instagram account insurreallife, which posted about four poetry forms that we should try:

Of the four forms mentioned in the post, the Fox’s Gambit form spoke to me the most.

The form was a joint invention by torrin a. greathouse (a transgender cripple-punk poet) and Julian Randall (a Chicago based Queer Black author)1. The form consists of 17 lines. There are no restrictions to the form of the lines; that is, the lines can have any length the poet desires, and they do not need to rhyme. Where the restriction comes in is that every three lines, a letter is removed from the words available to the poet. This means the following:

• In lines 1 through 3, all letters are available for the poet to use.

• In lines 4 through 6, one letter is unavailable.

• In lines 7 through 9, two letters are unavailable.

• and so on, until the last two lines, where a total of five letters are unavailable.

This form works best when you have a collaborating poet, as they can select the letters to be removed. In the absence of this, the letters can be chosen at random2.

The Poem - A Quick Censorship

Our actions are under constant surveillance
by a big bird
that nurtures us,
yet also shields our lodes
from stuff that it deems "radical".
Those that comply
are left to live
yet rebels
(radical folk, explorers, plus weirdos)
are calmly told to abide
or words become limited,
dilemmas float cerebrally,
sealed vocal cords become gold.
Decay occurs,
for delves are gruesome —
verses utter
few crumbs for us.

Process and Reflection

For the Fox’s Gambit poem above, I used Wheel Decide in lieu of a collaborating poet to determine which letters were removed3. I put all 26 letters of the English alphabet on the wheel, made each of the letters have an equal chance of being selected, and had the wheel remove the letter off of the wheel after it was selected, and the letter written down. The wheel was spun five times, following the form. The letters selected were the following: n, h, p, i, and a.

This was a somewhat difficult draw, made slightly easier because the vowels were drawn at the end. “N” is the second most common consonant found in English words, and is common as the ending letter for words. “H” and “P” appear less frequently in words, and the vowels “I” and “A” appear quite often.

Already, by the fourth line of this poem, we can see the affect of letter deletion. I would have used “brains” at the end of the line, but under this scheme, this word is impermissible. So, I opted for lobes, as there are different lobes within our brain that process the world.

The early removal of “N” makes combining groups with “and” impermissible. “Plus” worked here.

As the poem progresses, the amount of words available becomes smaller. This is especially true at the end when the two vowels “i” and “a” are removed. Had I not had the restrictions, the last 4 lines would have probably gone like this:

Decay occurs,
for thinking becomes painful:
our brains are silenced,
and we are not free.

As gathered from the title of the poem, this poem focuses on censorship. The fox’s gambit form seems to fit that theme perfectly. When letters are removed, it can become harder to convey the message that the poet wants to say. Likewise, when avenues of expressions are hidden, or alternate perspectives are not allowed to be shown, thought is suppressed, and less questioning occurs. This leads to a stagnation in many areas.

At the same time, this sort of exercise could be useful in creating new words. Whether any new words born from this sort of exploration would enter colloquial usage remains to be seen…

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

Hello everyone! We are a couple of days into June, which means I am overdue in regards to dropping a new prompt for the Imperfect Singers Club!

Some housekeeping before we proceed into this month’s prompt…

For the month of May, we dove into the world of Rosse Ksionda, a self-proclaimed professional people confuser. Known professionally as The Wanderer Edit, a lot of her songs deal with her experience with disability.

I selected the final song on her first album for the month of May, Anarchy, which is a song that the original artist has loved, ever since she started to work on the song. You can check out the details to that prompt here:

Sadly, there were no submissions, so I have nothing to highlight this month. However, the thread is still open, so you can go ahead and post your rendition of the song at any time. I’ll make sure to highlight it in next month’s post. Prompt submissions from earlier months are also encouraged. You can find all the previous months’ prompts here.

I will note however that the original artist redid the song, which you can check out here:

The June 2026 Prompt!

With housekeeping complete, it’s time to select the song that we will attempt to sing for June.

I dropped a hint as to what artist we might do several days ago, which was that the artist that performs this song will be celebrating their birthday this month.

That artist is Aurora! I think that is an excellent choice, considering that she’s a major proponent of the LGBTQ+ rights movement, it’s Pride Month, and that one of my readers would like me to do more songs from her. Now the question is, which song are we going to do?

After thinking about this for some time, we will tackle Cure for Me! This is one of Aurora’s most popular tracks.

Here is the track:

Give it a few listens if you aren’t familiar, and then give the song a crack yourself! I can’t wait to hear your beautiful voices.

When you have completed your rendition, feel free to post it in the thread.

And remember:

“We don’t need a cure, for who we are.” - Aurora, in many live versions of Cure for Me

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

Threads Of Hope

Holding Space Poetry Workshop Series

Holding Space is a series of workshops that remind us that poetry is not just an art form; it is a way of life…

Read more

7 months ago · 3 likes · Emma-Jane Barlow

For confidentiality, the workshop was not recorded. What will follow are my takeaways from the workshop, as well as two bits of poetry that were borne as a result of me taking part in the workshop.

The workshop for pain was supposed to happen in April, as part of the once a month Holding Space for… workshop series. Due to Emma-Jane’s pain in real life, this workshop was delayed to May 10. I didn’t mind the delay.

As with the previous workshops in this series, the purpose of this workshop is to expand the meaning of the word being covered, through analyzing other poets’ work, as well as writing our own poems. This includes potentially connecting it to earlier words in the series.

We launched into this exploration pretty quickly, after doing a brief introduction and review of the community guidelines. We started with the following quote, by Ava Martinez:

“To feel pain is to know that you are alive; it’s a reminder of your humanity.”

Literally, this makes sense. I’m pretty sure once you are dead, you no longer feel pain (or any emotion, for that matter). Taken a bit deeper, pain can be an opportunity to grow as a person, especially with pain that’s not physical. We can start to wonder: what’s causing the pain? Is it due to my current situation? Can I control it, or is it outside of my direct control, and I need to handle it?

A lot of the pain I feel will come from my head. This makes sense, as my brain is always thinking. From time to time, feel a block in my head, which saps energy away from things that I want to do.

We then went into a word association exercise, which is similar to previous workshops. We were given about 5 minutes to come up with any words, sayings, or feelings that the word “pain” digs up.

Almost immediately I recalled the lyric, “to love me is to suffer me” from Ethel Cain’s Nettles. I’ve written an article on this song before, which you can check out here:

Taken at face value, that lyric basically suggests that if you truly love me, you have to go through everything that I go through, and that I should be able to “unload” anything onto you, like trauma. This quote did bring up the idea that pain is not something that you have to go through alone; that is, you can rely on others to help you through.

Going a bit deeper, the line highlights the playback of scenarios in an autistic’s head, which both me and Ethel have. This sets up barriers in a sense, and, as I’ve mentioned previously, leads to a pain in my head as I am harboring energy. Eventually, this sort of rumination is no longer productive. Ideally, at that point I must decide whether to go through with the hypothetical I’ve thought up of, or not - although often times I like to hide behind the barrier I’ve created, allowing the mental pain to fester.

I’ve also jotted down being in an unfair world, physical injury, and a feeling of etherealness during this exercise.

Next, we were guided through a brief body scan meditation, trying to sense any sort of bodily sensations. During this scan, I noticed a couple of things. Firstly, I felt a stone inside of my brain - indicating that my brain is thinking about something. I’m not sure exactly what I was thinking about, which is fine - I’ve been told to allow thoughts to come and go during such an exercise, without pondering on them. I also felt a little congestion in my throat, along with a heart that’s peaceful and serene - a beautiful contrast to my brain that’s always thinking and has an element of chaos inside of it. Finally I felt that my feet were ready to move.

We then moved onto a poem called I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt by Sylvia Plath. We read it a few times, and then we reflected on how Plath symbolized pain in this poem.

One of the things I noticed is that Plath seems to suggest that the heart is the source of pain and/or bliss, and that the brain doesn’t notice it, or, at least, doesn’t notice it as quickly as the heart. I connected this with Aurora’s album “What Happened to the Heart?”. In that, Aurora suggests that the heart is the source of intuition, yet the mind silences it. I noticed also the flip between the words weep and sing between stanzas 4 and 7. Plath opted to end the poem on “weep”, adding just a tinge of sorrow, which pain can be associated with.

We ended the workshop with 2 writing exercises, which ran a little bit shorter than in previous workshops due to there being additional people in attendance. The first exercise involved us choosing one of three prompts. These were the following:

• Pain feels like…

• Pain taught my body…

• If pain could speak…

I opted to go with the first prompt, as I felt it provided the easiest jumping off point for a poem. Keeping in mind the stone I felt in my head, I wrote the following:

Pain feels like a stone that I carry:
a feather physically,
but mentally a boulder.
It's a roadblock -
designed to protect
from stuff that I think is unknown
when really it's just a minor change
that would allow me to grow
like roots into the hard, crusty soil
and become... me.

Our second exercise asked us to view pain not as a villain, or something to be avoided, but rather as a messenger. We were tasked to think about what pain is trying to protect us from, what it asks us to notice, what it interrupts when it arrives, and what purpose it serves.

When I working on this exercise, I was really thinking about the poem we just read, as well as the careful balance between the mind and the heart. I believe the heart is the organ most in-tune with nature, while the brain tries to impose its own order on top of it. Nature is calming in nature, so the heart will tend to be quiet, unless the brain brings it into a dangerous situation. Then it will come to the forefront and try to correct the brain. The following is the poem I came up with for this prompt, after a bit of reworking:

A Natural Safety Switch

When the environment is peaceful
my brain feels liberated -
it sings joyous tunes
which are in lockstop
with my heartbeats.

Occasionally, this tune shifts:
a stone forms inside
and presses an errant key
producing a sour note —
a yelp of pain.

This stems from overwhelm —
perhaps I've reached my quota
of vocal drabble,
or maybe it's drained
and it needs to be plugged in.

My heart knows the right way
and tries to console the brain;
but the brain is strict
and insists its way is right.
The stone grows, and with it, the dissonance.

Eventually, the dissonance drowns out normal operation
and the heart screams to my brain:
"Stop your madness."
At that point I must slow down
before the brain damages itself.

Like with the previous workshops, this workshop ended with another quote, this one by Paul Stewart:

“Everything passes, joy, pain. The moment of triumph; the sigh of despair. Nothing lasts forever, not even this.”

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

It is May Day! It is also the start of a new month, which means it is time for me to release a new prompt for the Imperfect Singers Club!

Some housekeeping before we proceed into this month’s prompt…

For the month of April, we returned to the land of alt pop with a song from Florence and the Machine’s latest album, to celebrate her starting the North American leg of the Everybody Scream tour (which is still ongoing. If you are reading this on May 1, which is when I pushed this out, she’s in Atlanta.).

We tackled the song Perfume and Milk. You can check out the details to that prompt here:

We did have one submission over the past month, by . Their submission can be found in the chat thread dedicated to April's prompt. I enjoyed it. This thread is still open, so you can go ahead and post your rendition of the song at any time. I’ll make sure to highlight it in next month’s post. Prompt submissions from earlier months are also encouraged. You can find all the previous months’ prompts here.

The May 2026 Prompt!

With housekeeping complete, it’s time to select the song that we will attempt to sing for May.

If you recall last month’s post, I mentioned two songs that I would likely choose to be prompts at some point. We will do one of those songs this month.

That song is… Anarchy by The Wanderer Edit!

Now, this artist is not super well known, and in fact, had I not found her scouring Threads for people to potentially follow, I probably would still be unaware of her. Her music is in a similar vein to Aurora, being whimsical and fairy-like, but the lyrics carry significantly more weight, being borne from her experience as a disabled person.

Here is the track:

Give it a few listens if you aren’t familiar, and then give the song a crack yourself! I can’t wait to hear your beautiful voices.

When you have completed your rendition, feel free to post it in the thread.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

Since my youth, I sought to understand the world;
how it works, why it works, and where I fit.

First I sought to do this pragmatically,
using equations and symbols

that would turn most people's heads into tops.
I was gifted in this area, but inside, I felt a nagging:

first, a quiet nudge,
later, a desperate scream,

informing me that
"equations aren't the full story. Come back to reality, before you succumb to madness."

I managed to do so,
with only a handful of grains of sand left to fall in my brain's hourglass.

I then turned to poetry and writing,
realizing that imagery of myself

with a bright, yet fragile mind,
was the way towards understanding.

Reflection

This poem was born from a prompt posted by . She, along with a bunch of other poets, celebrated April by participating in National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo), which involves writing a poem a day over the course of April. In addition, prompts were created and posted in 4 day batches. The final day had a very interesting prompt: write a poem about your poet origin story.

Her response is here:

What inspired me to write this poem was not this, but rather ’s attempt at this prompt (which you can find on Instagram).

I then wondered about how I would go about writing this poem. Quite quickly I recalled a conversation I had on Threads last week with another creative, Kendall Wisniewski. She posed a few questions:

• What did you want to be when you grew up, when you were a preteen/teenager?

• What do you do for a living nowadays?

• On a scale from 1-10, how fulfilled do you find yourself these days?

For a long time, I wanted to be a physicist. This ideal took hold in middle school (I think?) shortly after I read the Stephen Hawking book A Briefer History of Time. I found his way of explaining complex phenomena in the universe fascinating, and it nudged me to follow a similar path to him. I wanted to understand how the universe works.

This, of course, required me to learn a lot of math, another thing that I excelled at. Over the course of my studies, I learned about a lot of equations that most people would likely never use in their life. Those equations govern various phenomena in the universe.

However, there lies a problem. That problem is that as I went further and further into my studies, I felt less and less connected to actual reality. Like, learning all of this is great, but how do I tie this back to something that makes a difference in this world?

Furthermore, as I’ve mentioned in the past, the research aspect of my physics education was burning me out, despite me enjoying the learning aspect and the teaching aspect (the teaching aspect was mentioned in my Threads conversation as something I’ve missed). Had I attempted to continue, that burnout period would have lasted far longer.

One thing that still remains is the desire to understand - particularly, I want to understand how the world works, why it works the way it does, and where do I fall in it. Writing poetry and prose, in a sense, tries to do this, albeit in a different way than how physics tries to do it. Physics uses equations to explain everything, whereas in writing you are sort of forced to think outside the box, and think about all the different connections one can make between different objects1. That, I think, was the true catalyst for me to write poetry.

A Little Catchup…

Apart from the Imperfect Singers post at the beginning of the month of April, I’ve been mostly silent here. You might find that somewhat unusual, considering that April is also Autism Awareness Month, and thus I would have some content to share regarding it. I suppose I touched upon it a bit in the poem with the idea of burnout, but other than that, it’s been silence2.

So, I should tell you about a couple of things, which include making some progress towards goals that I set for myself in 2025.

The most notable thing is that I’ve signed up for a half marathon, which will occur on Saturday. I had hoped to accomplish this last year, but I could not get the logistics squared away.

The second thing is that I’ve booked an appointment to get a sunflower tattoo, which is meant to symbolize my commitment to the Hidden Disability Sunflower program, and the fact that sunflowers are my favorite type of flower.

Finally, I’ve been chipping away at the Stafford Challenge. The Stafford Challenge involves writing a poem a day for a whole year. Basically, it’s like NaPoWriMo, but expanded for an entire year. So far, I written at least one poem a day since January 17, save for February 12. During this challenge, I’ve played around with various forms, such as haiku, tanka, and shadorma, and I have taken part in a number of challenges. I have even submitted a poem for potential publication in Poetic Reveries’ August 2026 issue of their digital magazine.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

We are now in the month of April, so it’s time for me to release a new prompt for the Imperfect Singers Club!

Some housekeeping before we proceed into this month’s prompt…

For the month of March we tackled a song from Oasis’s catalog, as the band was nominated for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It, along with 16 other acts, were nominated. Oasis ended the fan vote in 15th place. It remains to be seen whether the band will enter the Hall this year, or if it will have to wait for at least another year.

The song that we tackled was Songbird, a single off of the album Heathen Chemistry. You can check out the details to that prompt here:

There were no submissions this past month, so there is nothing for me to highlight. The submission thread is still open, so feel free to record yourself singing the song at any time, and then post it in the thread. Any attempts will be highlighted in May’s prompt post (along with any attempts on previous month’s songs. You can find all the previous months’ prompts here.).

The April 2026 Prompt!

With housekeeping complete, it’s time to select the song that we will attempt to sing for April.

For this month I had a couple ideas in mind. These included Anarchy by The Wanderer Edit, and Fallen Fruit from Lorde. I imagine we’ll tackle these songs in due course…

Ultimately, I’ve decided to go with a song from Florence and the Machine. The group is on the road in April, making stops throughout North America. We will tackle the song Perfume and Milk, which is my favorite off of their latest record, Everybody Scream.

If you haven’t heard it before, here’s a link to the track:

Give it a few listens if you aren’t familiar, and then give the song a crack yourself! I can’t wait to hear your beautiful voices.

When you have completed your rendition, feel free to post it in the thread.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

Threads Of Hope

Holding Space Poetry Workshop Series

Holding Space is a series of workshops that remind us that poetry is not just an art form; it is a way of life…

Read more

7 months ago · 3 likes · Emma-Jane Barlow

For confidentiality, the workshop was not recorded. What will follow are my takeaways from the workshop, as well as two bits of poetry that were borne as a result of me taking part in the workshop.

Much like the workshop last month, this workshop ran without technical issues. I actually managed to get into the session a little early, as there was the chance of me leaving before the session ended (there was a gathering of the clients of the other customized residential places within Heritage at 2 Forks Up on the day of the workshop), and so I managed to have a little time alone with Emma-Jane before the session began properly. We talked a bit about whether we like to have music on in the background while writing, and the concept of ‘life block’, where things in one’s life get in the way of writing. I’ve sort of encountered this, especially since my brain thinks of a lot of things that could be interesting topics to write about, and then it becomes difficult to decide, what to write about.

Oh decisions, decisions. There’s so many of them to make, yet not enough time to make them all…

Emma-Jane’s recent creative block is described a bit more in her latest post, which you should take a look at.

Threads Of Hope

Truth Diaries: Moving Beyond The Pain & Fighting To Be Heard

Truth Diaries: Moving Beyond The Pain & Fighting To Be Heard…

Read more

5 months ago · 3 likes · 2 comments · Emma-Jane Barlow

But anyway, enough with the preliminaries. Let’s head into the workshop proper.

After a brief introduction and a review of the workshop guidelines, we launched into a short discussion, which was led with a quote by Haruki Murakami:

“Every one of us is losing something precious to us. That’s part of what it means to be alive.”

Looking at this quote, it makes sense. The process in determining who you are involves dropping things that don’t “fit” you, and finding the things that do. This is a dynamic process; much like how the world changes with the seasons. Over time, circumstances change, the brain matures, and you realize a bit more about yourself and your place within it.

This segues nicely into the questions that Emma-Jane posed to us. She wanted to think about the types of loss that we have experienced, and what we have let go, whether willingly or unwillingly.

Of course, the thought of death came first. I lost my parents fairly early on life (my mother and biological father divorced early, my stepfather, who filled in the role of my father, died shortly before high school graduation, and my mother died when I was 21), and obviously these shaped me as a person. Despite them leaving me, I could still feel their presence around me. They wanted me to keep going on with my studies and to be successful in them and in life. What I think they weren’t aware of was the changes going on in the world, and at the time of their passings, I wasn’t either.

That came to a head as I proceeded further with my studies, and went into research, which ultimately wracked my head and destabilized my brain somewhat (another sort of loss, but an internal one). I eventually determined there was a fundamental shift in the identity I was presenting versus what I really am.

A third type of loss that came to mind was the idea of losing my sense of identity. It’s not a complete loss - certain aspects of me are “known”. I know I am human. I know I am autistic. I am aware of the criteria that leads to one being diagnosed with it. But what does it really mean? What am I truly? This question is still something I think about often, even in the aftermath of me leaving academia (something that I have let go, for now). I think we all do. In fact, Emma-Jane mentioned that “I don’t think any of us know who we are.”

We then launched into a brief meditation session, where we imagined a certain type of loss. For me I was thinking about my decision to leave academia, and I found it to be quite liberating, almost as if I hit “end task” on a program that stopped functioning, allowing me to regain resources. It allowed me to explore other avenues and grow as a person.

Next, we read and discussed a poem by Korean poet Ko Un titled "Loss". It brings up loss in a way that doesn’t directly use loss. It does provide hope - throughout, the line “There’s a trail uphill that lead somewhere” is used. It shows that even if you are completely lost, if depression and/or grief have fully taken over and you think that there’s no way to get out, there is a way out, to grow. It might require assistance from others, and that’s okay.

The third stanza opens differently - “That object must be somewhere inside”. This line seems to suggest that the thing that I lost is something internal; as if my soul is hurting. However, it isn’t clearly stated here.

The workshop finished with a series of writing exercises. The first one involved imagining something that I have lost is an object, and then to write a ‘missing’ poster for said object.

For this, I considered my more innocent, pre-COVID brain as the object to be missing. The following poem is what I wrote down, with a few edits afterward:

WANTED: A Pre-Covid Brain

Sought after for years. A brain that cared only about learning about the first interest it latched onto – science. A brain that doesn't care about bombs going off halfway around the world or the rapid rise in global temperature. A brain that goes down into the rabbit holes dug by Feynman and company. A brain that didn't need to socialize to get ahead. A brain that eschewed other interests, save maybe for a game.

If found, please return it to me so I can preserve it. I wish I could stuff it back into my own head – alas, I've grown too much to do so.

We took a short break after this, and then we had two more writing exercises. Both of these were companion list poems. The first one was to start with “In my life, I have lost…” and then, following that, listing all the things that I have lost. The second one was to start with “In my life, I have found…” and then, following that, listing all the things that I have found, whether big or small.

These exercises turned out to be less poems and more lists, which I like as it breaks down things. It also allows me to write something more refined later.

For the “lost” poem, I listed my father, my stepfather, and my mother, along with the belief that I’m alone, my academic studies, and a life where I am constantly glued to the screen. For the “found” poem, I listed my stepfather, community, the joy of writing and poetry, nature, chess, my friend Andrea, and a sense of curiosity which has always been brewing inside of me.

Using these lists, I have constructed a poem:

Remnants of Loss's Scaffolding

Throughout my life, scaffolding comes and goes
sometimes at the right time
when blue skies prevail,
other times,
when dark storm clouds crash down
and threaten to unearth a certain demise.

My parents were the biggest pillar—
supporting my endeavors
to learn all I could
about the building blocks
of me
and the universe...

...but they soon ascended,
into the Great Gig
at critical points in my life
where the work was hardest;
chinking the once impenetrable armor
surrounding my true identity.

Worldwide events further eroded this veil
that I partially created
and my parents reinforced—
no longer could I just
pretend that nothing
could happen to me...

...soon, new friends joined in:
both here and across the pond
and a new, more authentic, autistic self
popped out:
a small crying chick
lost in this world

it's still eager to learn
but it does so differently:
eschew the textbooks
(they will serve you little in reality)
and replace with genuine connection
in nature and humanity.

My parents are still here
supporting my endeavors-
in ghost form, they surround me
ensuring that this path is safe,
even if the path
is nothing like the idealized one crafted in my mind.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

And finally, do check out and subscribe to the Imperfect Singers Club section!1 There will be a new prompt on Wednesday, for the month of April.

The mirror is a fascinating device.

Every day I look at it
analyzing every small hair
sprouting from my head
using my grassy hazel eyes
that squint ever so slightly
to the overhead light
that highlights me.

Today, at thirty, I saw a slightly different version of me.

Normally, I see a vibrant, youthful person
with springy legs
ready to tackle the day
with all of its challenges.
Those challenges still exist—
more of them, in fact—
but the soul inside
has matured.

It becomes more apparent as I look closer.

My squint grows stronger
and then it becomes crystal clear.
My forehead, once smooth with no craters or ridges
has begun to show wear
and the creases near my eyes
no longer disappear:
they remain partially locked in
even as I release a loud sigh.

Is it a bad thing though?

I'd argue both ways
as I dress for the day
but ultimately those little elements
that temporarily irked me
are symbols of a well lived life
filled with constant growth
in all domains
as I try to understand the world and myself.

So let me; let me enjoy thirty,

and maybe in this new decade
the mirror will surprise me
yet again -
perhaps,
both my current self and a younger self
will co-exist
and perhaps merge
to create a better self.

Reflection

Thirty is the age I turn today (if you are reading this on March 14). It’s an interesting turning point in my life. The last ten years of my life was spent sort of experimenting with my life, trying to figure out what I truly am, without the guidance of my parents, for the most part. During that, a lot of things happened. A few key highlights can be found in my previous post for the Muse…

On initial inspection, you might think that I wasted my twenties - the period where I am the most youthful and, subjectively, the most beautiful. In actuality, it was quite productive, even if the results are not necessarily tangible. It was filled with personal growth, with me learning more about myself and what my role is in the world. That journey is not done yet, and it probably never will be complete. Being naturally curious, I will always be learning something, and assimilating it into my corpus of knowledge.

This sort of wisdom is reflected in my current appearance. If you look at me closely, you can start to see my skin wrinkle and crease, especially if I do a rare grin or show strong emotion. Some might look to eradicate these wrinkles, fighting the aging process. I choose to embrace them - they act like battle scars, showing that I have experience living on this planet.

I still have some youthful energy left, even if it is buried underneath a more hardened shell. If I combine that with the knowledge that I’ve learned so far, I will make a difference.

So… here’s to thirty!

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

We are a couple of days into the month of March, which means we are overdue for a new prompt for the Imperfect Singers Club!

Before I get into the prompt, we are going to do a little housekeeping.

For the month of February we tackled the song Forgotten Love, by the Norwegian singer AURORA (who I managed to see in the movie theaters! Not quite the same as seeing her live, but it’s the next best thing). You can check out the details to that prompt here:

During the course of February, one person managed to give the song a shot, . Their rendition can be found here. It highlights their soft tone, and despite a slight bit of cracking, sounds good throughout.

The submission thread for February is still open, so feel free to record yourself singing the song at any time, and then post it in the thread. Any additional attempts will be highlighted in April’s prompt post (along with any attempts on January’s song, Bennie and the Jets).

The March 2026 Prompt!

With housekeeping complete, it’s time to select the song that we will attempt to sing for March.

If you have been following the music world, you will know that the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame has recently unveiled the nominees for the 2026 class. The list consists of a number of well known artists/bands, including Phil Collins, Iron Maiden, Mariah Carey and Sade.

One nominee that struck my eye is Oasis. This band, who finished up a world tour in 2025, are best known for the song Wonderwall, which is part of guitar player repertoires the world over. However, we are not going to go with this song. Instead, we are going to go with Songbird, a single off of their 2002 album, Heathen Chemistry.

If you haven’t heard it before, here’s a link to the track:

Give it a few listens if you aren’t familiar, and then give the song a crack yourself! I can’t wait to hear your beautiful voices.

When you have completed your rendition, feel free to post it in the thread.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

I think this is a great prompt. It got me thinking about my past decade on Earth, and what I want to do as I spring into my thirties.

My twenties can be reasonably split into two halves. In fact, one could split my 20s a couple of ways. We could split this timeframe three ways:

• Using the onset of the COVID lockdown, which occurred 6 years ago this month

• Using the midpoint of my twenties, which was in 2021

• Using the point I joined the Niagara County Health Department, which was in 2023.

In each case, I come to a similar conclusion - in the second half, something fundamentally changed about me or about my thoughts compared to the first half.

In the early part of the decade, I focused mostly on my own academic journey. I was in the physics PhD program at the University of Buffalo, where I was learning about the various tools of the trade within high energy physics. I was also imparting my knowledge about physics to undergraduates, through labs or recitations. I was also trying to perform research - although I hit quite a number of roadblocks, and ultimately I never completed a project.

I was also still navigating a world without my stepfather, which was wracking my brain. Academia had robbed me of being able to take the time to properly process his death. I felt compelled to continue my studies, as back then, becoming a physicist was my goal. I didn’t care as much about the state of my mind, and there were a number of times where I unloaded my grief onto my mother, who was also dealing with the aftermath of his passing.

My mother didn’t last long into my twenties, and while her death also weighed on my mind, my resolve to continue my studies was still strong.

The three events that I mention above changed my way of thinking, or me as a person.

In March 2020, COVID swept around the world, including the United States. Right before my birthday, my university shut down in person activities and moved to a fully virtual model of learning. This meant I spent a lot more time on the computer, as I did my learning and my fun activities on it. This was also roughly the time I started becoming more active posting on social media, as well as getting my first glimpse of the activism space. Several weeks prior to the lockdown I had heard of Greta Thunberg, a well known activist from Sweden who would protest in front of the Swedish Parliament building every Friday, demanding that governments take action to avert the worst effects of human caused climate change. She had at this point a well established movement named Fridays for Future, which had presence in a lot of countries.2

The lockdown forced her to move to a digital format, which was more accessible for me to join than an in-person event. So, starting on March 13, 2020, I began to take part in the strikes, which continued for quite some time. While I am not sure how much impact I individually made during this, I did earn a follow from Greta herself.

The second point that I mention, which would be March 14, 2021, marked the midpoint of my twenties. While that particular day isn’t special beyond it being my birthday, there was quite a bit of change in my life around then. This included my transition in my studies from a hybrid between research and classwork to one that was purely research. I also had recently moved into my current address on Troy Del Way, and I was beginning to gain more independence.

The third point is perhaps the most crucial one, and one in which I could probably dedicate a whole post in itself. The disability specialist job, which was funded through a grant, thrust me head first into the world of disability and crip culture, which engrossed me and became a special interest of mine.3 This interest grew strong enough to challenge my long standing special interest in physics which led to a conflict inside of me. Also, by this point, my research was stagnating, and job prospects within physics in my local area were quite bleak. This ultimately led me to leave the world of physics, at least for now.4

Around this time too I was really starting to blossom socially. When I was in school I really didn’t talk too much with peers, but rather aligned myself with teachers. My mother probably played a role in this as well, as she was protective of me. Activities such as chess at the local library, volunteering over at Ten Lives, and bowling on the weekends with my housemates helped to break out of the shell I was in socially.56

So we can see that my twenties saw me ditch the dreams that I had in my childhood, and adapt myself into the reality that I am in right now.

So let’s look forward, and finish the prompt. What am I going to leave behind, and what do I want to grow into, as I head into a new decade of my life?

I think I want to continue to grow in the disability space, and continue to advocate for changes that positively impact not just people within the space, but also for everyone around us. I also want to continue to cultivate my creativity. I want to try to break away from being fully rigid with my routines - yes, they bring stability, but they also cause stagnation. I have to learn that routines can and must change, depending on the circumstances.

I’m looking forward to my thirties - I want to see how my brain continues to mature, as time goes on.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content (we aren’t too far from having 200 readers):

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

Threads Of Hope

Holding Space Poetry Workshop Series

Holding Space is a series of workshops that remind us that poetry is not just an art form; it is a way of life…

Read more

7 months ago · 3 likes · Emma-Jane Barlow

For confidentiality, the workshop was not recorded. What will follow are my takeaways from the workshop, as well as two bits of poetry that were written down quickly during the session, and then refined later.

This workshop ran without any technical issues, and it ran smoothly (for much of the workshop, we ran ahead of schedule). It spanned approximately 90 minutes. After a brief introduction about how these workshop will run, as well as a bit about Emma-Jane, we started with a quote from Loretta Young:

“Love isn’t something you find, love is something that finds you.”

This is an interesting sort of thing, especially when you look at it from a familial lens, considering that that is a sort of unconditional love. But, when you look at it from any other lens, it’s a bit more cryptic. Aren’t we supposed to explore the world and find out what speaks to us? How do we know that we love something?

There were two questions that we started to think about before we dove into our first exercise, a word association exercise. These were the following:

1. What types of love have shaped you in your life?

2. Is love something that you can describe, or does it feel like something indescribable?

While I didn’t have much time to get down my thoughts on these questions during the workshop, I did have some time to think about it afterwards. For the first question, I thought about my special interests; things that I want to learn about, inside and out. Video games, nature, aviation, music, and more recently, advocacy and poetry… all of these came flooding into my head. When I engage in activities in these areas, I engage in self-love. I honor that my brain has certain things that it hooks onto.

I also thought about the deep love that my mother and stepfather provided me. They helped to create a foundation for me to build on. It also highlighted how much my life was shaken when they passed2.

My relationships outside of family don’t provide a feeling of love, but rather companionship. Companionship is key to survival.

For the second question, I think love is something that’s innate in nature - something that animals understand thoroughly. I think we (collectively as a species) do not. We can describe certain aspects, but I do not think we can describe love fully. There is a certain mysterious nature to it and when it strikes.

With these questions out of the way, we proceeded to our first exercise. For this we thought about the phrase “first love”. We were tasked to come up with whatever words and phrases go with this. I associated “first love” with family (more specifically, mother and father, who are the first people to love you), and a sense of warmth and security. It provides a calming effect when it’s strong, but when it’s absent, or when the object that I love is gone, I feel doubt3. I feel a radiance to love, but it feels different than hope. With hope, its radiance is far away. With love, its radiance is within arm’s reach. I associated a light red color to this.

We then read and reflected about Carol Ann Duffy’s First Love, which was very poignant, particularly the second and third stanzas. Somehow it dredged up memories of my stepfather, and I was holding back tears when I heard Emma-Jane read the poem. It also reminded me of a poem that wrote in her collection “tender teeth” named Echo:

Next, we moved to a writing exercise, where we wrote a love letter to an object. For this, I chose the blanket that lies on my bed. The following is the poem I wrote, with the title added after the workshop:

If a Blanket Could Confess Love

The final vestige of my mother's prowess
with a needle and thread
a thing that serves two purposes:
warmth at night
and comfort from the wiry nerves
that fray in the sensory overload
that the world
delivers readily
like takeaway -
a robot adorned blanket awaits me
at three
when the sun is long gone.

While I was writing this, I thought about my mother. I wondered what sort of items my mother would make for me and others, if she were still alive. Would she make blankets? Hats? Handbags? Something else?

We took a brief break and then we came back to do a short meditation, led by Emma-Jane, and then a longer writing prompt. The meditation involved thinking about what sort of form love can be in. I was wearing my robe, and during this meditation I was feeling more deeply. I was feeling the fleece gently touch my skin, comforting it, and soothing the brain.

Finally, we came to our final writing exercise: write a love poem, but we could only describe love, and not use the word love or any variations of it. We were urged to avoid cliches.

This was my attempt, with a better title than the one I used in the workshop:

An Observation on Love

An interesting, yet mysterious feeling:
nature has perfected it,
yet our understanding remains poor

and our feelings are just
meager interpretations
of something mastered for eons.

Perhaps my parents knew best -
little trinkets were passed down to me
so that I would remember their unbreakable feelings

and I would vow to do the same with someone new
even if I'm not sure who I am
or who I'd connect with

for my mind is fluid
and malleable: perhaps one day,
someone turns a switch

and I feel safe enough
to open my robe of comfort
and enclose them inside...

...and hopefully we both benefit
from being together
in the same bungalow.

Some notes about this poem, after the workshop. I used the ideas that I thought about at the start of the workshop, where I thought that nature has perfected it, but we have yet to understand it ourselves. I thought also that love should not be rushed: even though I say that I “would vow to do the same with someone new”, I don’t put a timeframe as to when it should be done.

I also state that my mind is “fluid and malleable”. As I spend more time here on Earth I find that I learn more about my mind, how best to treat it, and how I identify. I also realize that I should not rush love. I should bide my time, and eventually I will find someone that I am safe to be around with forever, without having to “mask” and present as normal.4

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

And finally, do check out and subscribe to the Imperfect Singers Club section! There will be a new prompt on Saturday, for the month of March.

Yet, there is one thing that I have yet to tackle here. I haven’t talked about desserts, which are probably my favorite thing to make in the kitchen. These are usually made on Thursdays, and enjoyed in the evenings with my housemates.

Quite recently I’ve been making a lot of poke cakes, which are cakes which are poked at, usually with the wooden end of a spatula, and then stuff is poured into the holes of the cake. This allows stuff to soak into the interior of the cake, which can alter the taste and texture of it. Typically, poke cakes involve using flavored gelatin, but people have gotten quite wild with the fillings.

The idea to make a winter wonderland poke cake came after my last poke cake adventure, a black forest poke cake. I figured to make a “white forest” or “winter wonderland” cake, which would focus on being white and airy, sort of like the scene I see outside my bedroom window in the winter. Quickly I came up with the layers: a base layer of white cake, with white chocolate ganache on top and in the holes of the cake, and then topped with whipped topping and either white chocolate chips or nonpareils. I ended up going with the nonpareils to emulate the clumps of snow that appear near roadways.

The Process

As usual, any recipe requires gathering the ingredients beforehand:

The first step was to bake the cake. To do this, I followed the instructions on the back of the cake mix box, to make a 9x13 inch cake. This involved using the cake mix, the water, the oil, and the eggs. The ingredients were mixed together using a spatula, and then poured into the cake pan. I made sure the entire bottom of the pan was covered in the raw batter:

The cake baked in the oven for 36 minutes. At the end of the baking period, a toothpick inserted in the middle of the cake came out clean, so it was ready to pull out.

I had to let the cake cool for a bit before poking into it. So, next came the most important part - making the filling, white chocolate ganache!

To do this, I measured out the white chocolate chips and heavy cream carefully in a glass, microwave safe bowl. I then put the chocolate mixture into the microwave and heated it in stages, whisking the mixture after each heating, until a smooth mixture formed.

With the ganache and cake ready, I poked a ton of holes into the cake, using a wooden skewer. Once complete, I poured the ganache over the cake, using a spatula to ensure that it goes into the holes in the cake:

Finally, I topped this cake with whipped topping and nonpareils, and then placed the cake in the fridge to chill.

After chilling for several hours I pulled the cake out to serve it to myself and my housemates. Moment of truth…

The verdict? Delicious. I went for seconds, and added Mascherano cherries on top of the second slice. The cherries added a extra sweet dimension to the cake.

The Recipe

Ingredients:

• White cake mix (I used Pillsbury)

• Ingredients needed on the box of cake mix

• 1.5 cups white chocolate chips (I used Ghirardelli)

• 0.75 cups heavy cream

• 8 oz whipped topping

• Nonpareils1 (I used regular sized nonpareils, you could go with mini ones) or additional white chocolate chips

• Mascherano cherries (for serving, optional)

Instructions:

1. Follow instructions on the cake mix box for a 9x13 cake.

2. Let the cake cool for about 10-15 minutes on a wire rack.

3. While the cake is cooling, make the white chocolate ganache.

   1. In a medium microwave safe bowl, combine the white chocolate chips and the heavy cream.

   2. Microwave for 30 seconds, then whisk for 30-60 seconds.

   3. Microwave for 15 seconds, then whisk for 30-60 seconds. Continue to microwave in 15 second intervals until the chocolate has fully melted, whisking between each heating.

   4. When the chocolate has melted, whisk the mixture until it is smooth and shiny. Set aside to cool slightly. Whisk periodically to prevent premature solidification of the top part of the ganache.

4. Poke holes in the cake using a skewer or the wooden end of a spatula.

5. Pour the ganache over the cake, ensuring that it goes into the holes.

6. Cover the ganache layer with the whipped topping, and then lay the nonpareils on top of the whipped topping.

7. Let the cake cool for several hours in the fridge.

8. When ready to serve, pull the cake out of the fridge, and cut individual slices out of it. You can put cherries on top of the individual slices, if desired.

9. Enjoy!

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

Want to support me financially so I can make even more decadent food creations? Click on the button below:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

It’s the start of a new month, which means it’s time for a new monthly prompt for the Imperfect Singers Club.

Before we hop into the new prompt, we’ll do a bit of housekeeping. Firstly, we have a logo for this club:

Secondly, if you missed last month’s prompt, the club tackled a classic from Elton John’s catalogue, Bennie and the Jets. Information on this prompt, how the club works, and the motivation behind the club, can be found here:

Now, this would be the part of the post where I would highlight a couple of performances of this song. Unfortunately, I received no submissions, so there is nothing to me to highlight. The submission chat thread is still open, so feel free to record yourself singing the song at any time, and then post it in the thread. If we get submissions this month for the January prompt, I’ll highlight some of them for the March prompt post.

The February 2026 Prompt!

With the preliminaries settled, it’s time to select the song we’ll attempt to sing for February. This month has a pretty big holiday, which is Valentine’s Day. So I figure we should do a song that involves love…

I also received a suggestion from that we should have some songs of Aurora covered in this club. Thankfully, Aurora has several songs that involve or mention love - Forgotten Love, Exist for Love, Giving in to the Love, etc. It’s the first song that I mentioned that we will attempt to do.

If you haven’t heard it before, here’s a link to the track:

Give it a few listens if you aren’t familiar, and then give the song a crack yourself! I can’t wait to hear your beautiful voices.

When you have completed your rendition, feel free to post it in the thread.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

Threads Of Hope

Holding Space Poetry Workshop Series

Holding Space is a series of workshops that remind us that poetry is not just an art form; it is a way of life…

Read more

7 months ago · 3 likes · Emma-Jane Barlow

For confidentiality, the workshop was not recorded. What will follow are my takeaways from the workshop, as well as two bits of poetry that were written down quickly during the session, and then refined later.

The workshop took place over approximately 90 minutes1. After a brief introduction about how these workshops were going to be run, as well as a bit about Emma-Jane, we started with a nice proverb:

“Hope is the last thing ever lost.” - Italian proverb

This makes sense, we always seem to have hopes and dreams, even if everything else is crashing down. It makes me think of the people who are stuck in war-torn areas, who hope of a future free of conflict.

Even for people that aren’t in conflict ridden areas, hope can still prevail. For me, I have a few hopes. For instance, I’m looking to get into the business realm; starting a small home bakery where I specialize in various desserts. I’m also hoping that people continue to read my work. These feel warming, in the sense that I am trying to improve myself, but at the same time they are overwhelming because I have to bridge the gap between making these hopes reality. This creates uncertainty as I might not know how to do so, and so I am tempted to make roadblocks to protect myself (even if this hinders my growth)2.

The members in the workshop did a little word association exercise after a short discussion, placing hope in the middle (or on the top, if you prefer) and then coming up with any words that we associate with it. I associated a number of things with it: comfort, goals and inspiration, uncertainty (along with the questions of whether to push for them, or to make roadblocks to avoid failure), a soft and radiant feeling, and the color of soft pink, which combats the blackness of uncertainty3.

After a brief reading and analysis of Emily Dickenson’s “Hope is the Thing with Feathers”, we had a small writing exercise where we had the choice of three prompts:

• Hope never stops…

• Even now, I hope…

• Hope survived when…

I opted to go with the first prompt, “Hope never stops…”. This line felt like a line that goes in the middle of a poem, which is what I ended up doing. The poem below is a revised version that I wrote during the workshop:

Hope Never Stops

In a world that's filled with twists and turns:
both seen and unseen,
hope never stops.
Just follow the dirt path it illuminates
and say "hello"
to the flower companions that line it.
Maybe, they'll provide you some sage advice,
and lead you to places you've never heard of -
but only as long as its beacon stays lit.

In this poem I connected with nature.

After a quick break we had two more activities: a meditation led by Emma-Jane, and a longer writing prompt. First came the meditation, where we were guided through visualizing hope within ourselves, and seeing where it lies. I initially felt it was in my brain, and I let my mind sort of fill in the picture. Where is it? Can I feel it right now, or do I need to move myself towards it? Away from it?

The following picture shows what I saw in my meditation, before I slowly opened my eyes to prepare for our final writing exercise:

This meditation inspired me to write a letter to hope, which was the final writing prompt.

In this letter I wanted to show that hope is a beacon that is meant to guide me through the uncertainty. Will my path be different than the path that others take? Absolutely. I have to honor the fact that my brain operates differently than everybody else’s; thus, I have to nurture it properly, ‘less I want to experience burnout again. I need to document the journey as well. This way, other people who are like me can study my path and find their own beacons of hope.

The following is a revised version of the letter I wrote to the hope that lies in my muse during the workshop:

A Letter to the Hope That Lies in my Muse

To the hope that lies in my muse:

You filled me with uncertainty
and I constructed roadblocks to protect me
so I can keep the routines that steady me.

Perhaps, though,
I observed you in the wrong way
and I shunned you.

Digging deep into you, I realized
you weren't trying to scold me
like one does to a child,

rather – you are a tender pink flame -
situated in nature -
my old home.

You are calling me
to ride against the tide
of society, 

and head towards the river
where I can realize my full potential
and whisk away the void of uncertainty.

- Dylan

After reading these poems back, I notice that nature features quite prominently - not unlike the Emily Dickenson poem I referenced earlier. Perhaps this is a clue for me - to move forward in life, spend more time in nature.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

And finally, do check out and subscribe to the Imperfect Singers Club section! There will be a new prompt on Saturday, for the month of February.

The volcano rumbles quietly -
much like its ordinary brethren
constructed with pearly gneiss
and feldspar.
It usually lies dormant
trapping the screaming inside
as conditions aren't ripe.
Perhaps a well placed spark
or shift in the earth's crust
will stir this creation to life.

One day, a perfectly placed storm
rattles the top of the volcano - and a pinhole is opened.

With a release point 
spirals of cosmic energy
spew out the rocky base
and plumes of volcanic ash blanket the countryside.
Born out of the destruction
is a new universe
dotted with poignant blue giants,
diminutive red dwarfs,
and new worlds
with tales to be written.

What will you make of this creation
born from untapped, limitless potential?

Reflection

Today is January 17. To most, this is just another day. But for me, and more than a thousand others, this is a special day. Today marks the beginning of the 2026 Stafford Challenge, a year long challenge which requires participants to commit to write a poem a day. Seems daunting, right?

For sure, it is. However, the challenge grants two things to me:

1. It provides an incentive for me to create a routine to create something everyday, and relieve my brain of storing things for an indefinite period of time, like a hard drive. It will take a while to get going, however, once the routine’s in place I’m unlikely to stop1.

2. It gives me an incentive to look around the world and within myself to gather bits of inspiration that I can save for later.

With the second point in mind, I began to think up of ideas for the first poem in this 365 day saga. Off the bag, I initially thought to start the challenge with a poem called “New Beginnings”. The rationale behind this idea is that we all start at the beginning and we slowly make our way to the end.

This stewed in my head for some time2, but then yesterday, one of the accounts that I follow on Instagram, foxcryillustration, made a new post consisting of a couple of pictures of a painting that they will present at an upcoming art show:

In the caption they requested a name for the painting. I took a look at the painting’s details. I saw a mountain towering over the forest. I saw a heart/rose shaped cauldron inside. I saw the mountain slowly spewing stuff outside, and then slowly expanding out into the cosmos. I also took a look at the caption they provided. This led me to answer “Volcano of Limitless Potential” as a potential title for Everett’s painting.

While I was sleeping last night I was thinking, “why don’t I write a poem with that title?”

And so, this was born.

How I will handle the challenge from here?

So, you may be wondering, “am I going to be posting all the poems I write during this challenge here on the Muse?”

The answer to that is “no”. There are a couple of reasons why:

1. While poetry does provide a window into how my brain works, if I posted all of the poetry during the challenge here it would overwhelm my other offerings, such as book reviews, the Imperfect Singers Club, and other insights into my autistic life and the world I inhabit.

2. The poems I write might be uneven in quality. Some poems might be really good, others might be relatively poor.

3. There are other places where I share writings, particularly on here and on Threads. For example, I take part in the House of Haiku, run by , every Wednesday. I also occasionally write poems based on prompts by malformed_poetry on Threads.

4. I might want to save some poems in the hopes of bundling them into a collection that can be published in print.

All of them, however, will be saved locally on my computer so that I can track my progress.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

There’s two things that are spurring the creation of this club. I’ll go through each in turn:

Firstly, a couple of weeks ago, on December 17, Wake Lloire posted a set of prompts:

Whimsical Writing with Wake

Whimsical Wednesday Prompts

To skip the rambling after the 💖💖💖 head to the prompts for the week after the 🌀🌀🌀…

Read more

8 months ago · 5 likes · Wake Lloire

The last prompt in this set of prompts really intrigued me. The prompt reads as follows: “Record yourself imperfectly singing a song you sort of know just by reading the lyrics off the Internet.”

Now, such a prompt is both interesting, but scary. On the one hand, I can share my musical expertise by singing a song that others might not of heard of before. However, there is a single word in that prompt that triggers a bit of a panic in me. I’ll give you a moment to figure out which one…

Did you say “imperfectly”?

You would be correct.

Why does that create a bit of panic? Simple. I like things to be “perfect”. I don’t like making mistakes, even though mistakes are how we learn, for the most part. That thought often leads me to make roadblocks to avoid straying from perfection, which in turn limits my growth, because I block off paths that I can explore1. Something that I need to work on is to be fine being imperfect and that it’s okay to make mistakes.

I also know a lot of songs, so I have a lot of options. That paralyzes my brain, and I need time to decide which song to do, but not too much time, as otherwise I will just ruminate forever on the idea without doing anything about it. By starting a club that has regular prompts, it will force me to come to a decision.

This leads to the second thing motivating the creation of the club, which stems from the word I chose to represent 2026 for me, creativity. I think it’s important to not only cultivate creativity in myself, but also others, especially with the rise of generative AI. This can take form in a bunch of forms, including writing, art, and music.

Now, as far as I’m aware, there’s no group on here that gets people together to sing. This club will change that. Enter the Imperfect Singers Club.

What will happen in the Club?

The premise of this club is simple: get people comfortable with singing… imperfectly.

The way this will happen is as follows:

• Every month, I will pick a song. I will post a link to the song, so that you can hear it, if you haven’t heard it before.

• You will look up the lyrics for the song.

• While reading the lyrics, you will record yourself singing the song.

• Once done, you will then post your singing online. I will open up a chat thread for people to link their renditions23. When the chat thread is active, feel free to comment on others’ renditions.

• I will link some of my favorites in a post.

Don’t worry if you make mistakes - that’s the purpose of the club. We’re not looking for perfection, which is what the music industry seems to want. What we are looking for is a honest effort; one that shows off the unique character of your voice.

The January 2026 Prompt!

Now that you have read about the club and how it will operate, I will give you the song we’ll try to sing for January. For this month I wanted to pick something that most people have heard of before, and is a song that I am familiar with so I can join in on the fun. To this end, I am going with a song that was floating in my head while I was determining what to potentially sing for Wake’s prompt: Elton John’s Bennie and the Jets!

If you haven’t heard it before, here’s a link to the track:

Give it a few listens if you aren’t familiar, and then give the song a crack yourself! I can’t wait to hear your beautiful voices.

Note: this will be the only post of the Club on the main Autistic Muse section. Future Club posts will be in their own dedicated section. You’ll need to subscribe to it to see these posts more easily, or in your mailbox.

To do so, you can update your account preferences and click on the toggle to receive emails from the Imperfect Singers Club.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

A couple of weeks ago, Pantone chose their color of the year for 2026. The paint company, who has picked a color every year since 2000, has opted to go with a billowy, nearly pure white for 2026. The color that was chosen is Cloud Dancer (hex code EFEEEA):

The idea behind this choice, according to the company, is to provide a sense of calm in our society, which has grown increasingly frantic in recent years. The color also resembles a blank canvas, ready to be painted on. Basically, it represents a clean slate.

The idea of a clean slate is, of course, appealing. At the individual level, one can always reflect back on their life so far, and wonder “am I on the right track? Or do I need to reconsider my choices and priorities?” That’s something I’ve encountered myself last year when the physics PhD program was pushing me towards burnout. I had to think if it was a good idea to continue pursuing it, or to step back and explore other avenues.1

At a global scale, however, the idea of a clean slate becomes much harder to visualize and conceptualize. This is because the world is evolving at a fast rate, especially with regards to geopolitical affairs and technology. I suppose, in this case, a clean slate would be a place where global relations are reset and we returned to a technological state just prior to the rise of generative AI, which has disrupted nearly all facets of human life.

Unfortunately, I think getting to that state is impossible. So, a color that represents a clean state is a poor choice for capturing the world’s state.

Furthermore, when I think about calming colors, I am usually thinking about colors that appear in nature. I usually think about the vibrant blues of the sky and water and the crisp greens of the trees when I am trying to calm down, instead of a pure white. White can be thought of as all of the colors mixed at once in a cacophony, which can be overstimulating, especially if my mind is spinning rapidly in thought!

What would I pick instead?

My initial thought was to go with black, which also represents a “clean slate”, but coming from the opposite side of the spectrum. Whereas white invites one to create, black represents the ultimate overwrought state: everything is too built up, and we need to cleanse ourselves of the cruft. By deleting certain things we can return to a state which is lively again. However, as eluded in the previous section, a clean slate color doesn’t represent the world’s state very well. So I had to return to the drawing board.

After some more thought, I came up with two colors that I think would better suit the year 2026. These are the following:

• Angry Hornet (hex code EE9911)

• Felwood Leaves (hex code 2BC51B)

Why do I think these colors would be a better choice for 2026 than Pantone’s pick? Let’s dive in.

We’ll start with my first color suggestion for color of the year, Angry Hornet.

Angry Orange is a bright orange. In a soft way, this color represents people’s anger towards government regimes, which have been increasingly at odds with the desires of the people. It also represents a need for change in a peaceful way. We saw this in spades in 2025, with people protesting around the world. This will likely continue in 2026.

The second color suggestion I have for color of the year is Felwood Leaves.

Felwood Leaves is a vibrant green, not unlike the color of the leaves of oak and maple trees absorbing light from the sun in the spring and summer. It is a good color to represent nature, which is something that has been becoming increasingly fragile recently. Wars, along with other human activities, have hurt nature, which serves as a backbone for all of human civilization. Should it collapse, human civilization would collapse as well. Hence, this color would signal people to protect nature at all costs.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛

The periphery of humans shouldn’t be silent.

Our numbers are many
and our roles are vast
yet the majority
decide we should rot
outside of the camera eye.

The periphery of humans shouldn’t be forced to conform.

Instead, like arrows
we should pierce and test the system
and make a space for us
where we can open up
and produce weirdness.

The periphery of humans shouldn’t be outlawed.

Life should be protected
regardless of quirks or defects
that make us different -
we help to color the world
which would otherwise be in monochrome.

The periphery of humans shouldn’t be stuck fighting.

We’re champions -
winning against illness,
the government,
or any other demons -
and we could enjoy a bear’s hibernation period.

The periphery of humans should just exist.

Let us coexist with the rest of you -
peacefully! We don’t care about silly diatribes
that aim to alienate us further
and shove us deeper into a rabbit hole (or closet).
We want to be like the sun – shining, out in the open, with you.

Reflection

Like many of the poems I create, this poem was created during Crip Craft Club, a virtual gathering space for creatives that are neurodivergent, chronically ill, disabled, and/or mad. It is run by the group the remote body.

During one of the club sessions in June, Jen of the Resting Up Collective dropped in and issued a call for people to write things for it. At the time, Jen was seeking things that reflect our experience of life as disabled/chronically ill people. So I went to work.

One of the things that I wanted this poem to reflect is that we desire to be part of society. For much of history people with disabilities and chronic illness (or, in general, anyone that were not viewed as ‘desirable’) were shunned, or forced into some sort of exile. Yet, we still exist, and we have created a sort of culture of our own. I call this the “culture of the periphery”. This is important to preserve and integrate into the greater culture of humanity.

Those that are in this periphery are often viewed as edge cases: cases that, in ordinary circumstances, don’t occur. However, they can and do happen. When these happen the system will panic and break down. We ought to challenge the system - expose any weaknesses, and push for changes. In this push for change we should also aim to ensure that our existence is protected. There’s no reason for regimes to pass orders of purity that aim to exterminate us - after all, we are human, and so we should be treated as such instead of something lesser.

We’re also tired of words that attack us and make us want to hide. You are probably aware that a certain R-word has been circulating around publicly. Such a word serves to demean people, instead of integrating them into communities and recognizing their abilities. Instead, we need to see efforts towards language and functions that allow us to participate as fully as possible, if we choose to. Things like online communities can help with this.1

This poem was submitted to this year’s edition of the Garden Party Collective’s mental health poetry contest. While it was not selected as one of the three winners, I still view this as one of my best things I created this year. I hope you agree.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to like and share! It really helps get the word out. Also consider subscribing, so you don’t miss out on future content:

Subscribe now

If you really liked my stuff and want to support me financially, you can do so by clicking on this button:

Buy me a milkshake! 🥛