After sharing a picture & having many conversations about the cozy corner that I paint in, it reminded me of a poem my Grandmother wrote. We all live in a way that works for us. I remember having a trampoline & slide in our living room & an outdoor intended tent inside. Autism formed “Our way”. Because we are human, our minds might wander to wonder as to what others “think” of our space. I stopped thinking about this long ago – since I knew NOBODY who had 2 autistic children and so our needs were different. We made our house OUR HOME. A comfortable place for us to be a family… That is all that matters.
A poem by Faith L. Sanders, Tuesday, September 13th, 1983
When you come where I do dwell,
What messages does my house tell?
Fastidiously neat and bare~
Precisely placed is every chair-
Books in order on the shelf~
What does that say of myself?
Dishes undone in the sink;
Garbage gives a gentle stink-
Dustballs rolling on the floor –
Did you notice at the door?
Among the clutter and the clear
spaces, do sure signs appear
saying. “Welcome ~ Come have FUN” ~
or would you rather turn and run?
acurbsideprophet 