Author Archives: Asphyxia

About Asphyxia

My name is Asphyxia, though some of my friends call me Fixie, and this blog is a “shelf” where I put all things I’m passionate about. In the "check out" section, you can find a guide to this blog, to help you find things of interest to you. I’m an artist and a writer. I sell paintings, jewellery, books, zines and more through my online Etsy shop, Fixie’s Shelf. Ours has become an age of overuse, waste and devastation, and in protest of this, I’m trying to find ways to live more simply, to use and waste less, and to turn my slice of the planet into a rich and beautiful place to pass on to our children. To do this, I’m growing my own food – you’ll find plenty of food production and preservation tips in this blog. I’m learning to make truly sustainable textiles, from leaves of plants and by harvesting the fur from my pet angora rabbit. I live with my partner and our son in a tiny mudbrick cottage I built myself, with solar electricity, water and heater. It has a composting toilet and is surrounded by chooks, fruit trees and food plants. I’ve joined the Riot for Austerity – a project in which participants try to reduce their use of resources down to ten percent of what the average person uses. In my personal life, I’ve achieved this, though I haven’t counted work. My marionette show, The Grimstones, has toured internationally and won many awards. As a result I was commissioned by publishers Allen and Unwin to write a series of children’s books based on the show. I homeschool my son, Jesse, and one of my aims is to equip him for a future in which oil is likely to become prohibitively expensive – meaning by the time he’s a man, he probably won’t be able to drive a car to work, and food will probably cost far too much to eat the way we do now. In my spare time (ha!), I love making things. Art journals, metalsmithing, sewing, knitting, spinning, weaving (all kinds of textiles!), and baskets are my current passion. I also love researching topics of interest, and as I learn new things, I like to write up my notes so I can remember it in a concise form later. In this blog you will find: - my notes from many topics I’ve learnt about, especially food and nutrition - things I’ve made.. all different kinds of art and products for our home - bits about our homeschooling journey - heaps of info about living more sustainably and simply - bits and pieces about my work, as a performer and a writer (forgive me please, for shamelessly self-promoting my new book series – I’m so excited about it!)… - recipes and food ideas - and some pictures of my rabbit because she was really cute. Thanks for stopping by and reading my blog. Please do leave a comment to say hello! Asphyxia.

My Eccentric Uncle

I think many of us have an eccentric uncle lurking somewhere in our family. Back in 2012, I went to visit mine, and I came away stunned, in a very good way. Let me give you a guided tour of the photos I took that day.

Here he is: Mark, my father’s twin brother.

My Eccentric Uncle 1

Despite being as Australian as they come, I think Mark would prefer to be English. He dresses like an English gentleman, every single day. I remember him from when I was very young, skulking in the background of my grandparents’ stunning and magical garden – all Mark’s work. Mark has never had a paid job, nor a driver’s licence – jobs and the driving of cars are terrifying prospects, he told me once.

When I was a child he bought a large, empty block of land, and set about creating an English manor, along with his very own garden. He and his partner, Michael, dreamed, planned, schemed and worked together. Here’s the result:

house 2

My Eccentric Uncle 2

Lacking the funds to fit it out in the true Victorian English style he longed for, they went for a DIY method for creating grandeur. For the main lounge room Mark painted portrait after portrait. He wasn’t having any prints – they had to be the real thing. He copied old masters.

inside house 1

When I expressed my amazement that he was so skilled with a paintbrush, he pffted and told me not to be silly. “They’re just copies.”

They created a true gentleman’s library:

inside house 2

However, most of the books are empty covers. But you can’t tell they’re fake unless you look real closely. In a closet, Mark has a real library, winding shelves upon shelves of reference books that have helped him create this dream. When I was a child, he opened his books about Queen Victoria’s doll’s house for me, and I think the intricate details I fell in love with then planted the very first seeds for my love of miniatures that eventuated in The Grimstones.

The rest of the house is peppered with decorative shelves of old books:

inside house 3

Mark made these shelves himself, including the ornate gold trimmings.

The house has many guest wings. My favourite is this one:

inside house 4

inside house 5

Mark made the four poster bed himself. He sculpted these mouldings, made a cast, poured them in resin, and painted them:

inside house 6

However, after fitting out about half the rooms of their magnificent home, Michael became ill with AIDS and died. Tragically heartbroken, Mark wondered what was the point? Why create this beautiful place when he had no-one to share it with? For years, the project floundered.

He did maintain his garden, however, which was magnificent. Filled with beautiful pathways, they led us as if through a complex maze:

outside house 1

pathway 2

pathway 3

Last time I visited, which I think was about ten years ago, the garden was a series of these lovely nature walks. I set off with Jesse to walk and enjoy.

Before long, we came upon something that wasn’t there the previous time I visited:

zues 1

Curious, Jesse and I ventured in. We discovered the stone floor had a hole:

zues 2

Beneath the grate, there was a statue! And maybe two metres below that, burbling flickering water! I glanced around, thinking the ground had been flat, wondering how this came to be. Was it a glorified well? I realised that beside the path, the hillside cut away, and that by walking down it further, we could see under the floor. We climbed down, and found:

zues 3

A cave! Hidden from view from the pathway – a little gothic surprise. We went inside:zues 4
There stood a statue of Zeus, surrounded by green-tinged stalactites, and a magnificent burbling pond. Wow!

zues 5

At that point, Jesse and I went back to fetch Mark, to ask him about it. We didn’t realise that if we had continued the way we were going, we would have come upon many more surprises. Mark led us a different way towards Zeus, and we found:

Yarra and Barwon.

A pond guarded by the river gods, Yarra and Barwon. And then the jaw-dropping piece of information: Mark sculpted these enormous, larger-than-life statues himself! Just like the four poster bed mouldings, but on a much grander scale, he used clay to sculpt the gods, then latex and plaster to create a mould, and poured them in concrete. They were made in several pieces, so that each could be carried down individually and set into place. It seems Mark has moved beyond the English Manor and into the realm of ancient Roman gods. it also seems that he’s no longer floundering, since Michael’s death.

Hidden amongst the greenery was this, invented and sculpted by Mark himself, not based on any ancient god:

lion 1

And then we came upon a grotto, so hidden by the trees I couldn’t get a photo of it. But we went inside to meet the god of Pan, represented by a pair of statues:


Goodofpan 2

Once again, these were entirely sculpted by Mark, along with the stalactites and all the mouldings in the columns. With the head of a goat at his hips, Pan is ornate and magnificent. Mark is waiting for the day when he is stained and mossy, reflecting the true ruin he is supposed to be,

We found serpents guarding the gates of hell (hell must be a spectacularly beautiful place):

gateofhell 1 gateofhell 2 gateofhell 3
And enormous fish:


victoria 1

And fountains set in the junctions of the pathways:

victoria 2

Again, everything was envisioned and sculpted by Mark, realised with the aid of Sebastian, who poured the concrete and lugged the massive pieces into place.

At one place we came across a pallet of pieces that had not yet been constructed:

Marion and Hawksbury 1 Marion and Hawksbury 2

These, Mark told me, are to be Marion and Hawksbury. “They’ll be set into the hillside here, feet to feet. Shadowy. You’ll hardly see them. Perhaps you’ll do a double take.”

And that’s when I realised that the surprise Jesse and I had when we discovered Zeus, the magical moment when the impossible seemed to be lurking far below the surface, was all planned by Mark. A sort of theatre, as an innocent garden walk of overgrown trees rustles to reveal murky but magnificent surprises. He’s waiting for the plants to grow over his constructions, to hide them so that you see them from one angle but not another, and for time to age everything so that they blend into the garden.

As Jesse said to me, “When Mark’s dead, this will be a museum.” And I imagine his home will be an incredible guest house. I asked Mark once, years ago, if he would have his house as a bread and breakfast. “God no,” he replied, “Imagine doing all that work. I couldn’t bear it.” And yet, this is a man whose work is so prolific, I cannot believe he’d created so much in the ten years since I visited.

He told me he only does an hour or so of sculpting a day. Mark rises in the afternoon, and ventures into his garden. He comes in to eat an evening meal and some chocolates, do his hour of sculpting, and then watches television until dawn. As the sun rises, he retires to the most modest of his bedrooms, scarcely more than a closet, to go to bed.

Organising My Memorabilia

You might have heard of Marie Kondo, who wrote The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. She suggests you only keep things which bring you joy. That may sound a bit impractical, but I decided to follow the programme she created to find out for myself. It was a mammoth job, to put every single aspect of my life in order, and complete all undone tasks. I thought I didn’t have much stuff, but it took three months of being my major project.

The rewards were huge – not only was all my stuff sorted, organised and well-stored, but I learnt significant skills along the way which I believe I will use for the rest of my life. I highly recommend giving it a go.

By far the biggest area for me was organising my memorabilia. I can’t tell you how amazing felt to have sorted and made accessible every photo since the day I was born, every old home video, every newspaper clipping and poster I want to keep. In retrospect, the most challenging thing was working out systems for storage of these items. Kondo doesn’t give precise guidelines for how to do that, so I had to make up some of my own. In case you’d like to have a crack at getting your memorabilia in order, I thought I would share my process. I can see that with my systems in place, it will be much easier to keep incoming photos, videos and other momentoes sorted, without letting them build up to the chaotic mess that I had when I started.


First thing to do is gather all your photos into one place. Digitally that means into some kind of photo-organising software such as iPhoto or Lightroom (which I use). In real life that means you get your albums and boxes of photos and make a pile.

I started with the pre-digital era. I had an album my mum gave me when I turned 18 of photos of my childhood. Looking through it gave me much joy. I could have kept it as it was. But the problem is, my photo albums, when gathered together and stored in a large plastic tub are just too heavy to carry. They lived in our shed, so if I wanted to look at a photo, I’d have to heft the tub off the shelf, at great danger to my back, and then I could only carry one or two albums into the house at a time. The result: I didn’t do it, and never looked at the photos. We don’t have space in our small house to store all our photo albums, so keeping them on a bookshelf in, say, the lounge room, was out of the question. I decided to remake the album in its entirety.

Using an iPhone app, I scanned each photo. I didn’t want to damage the album in case I changed my mind half way through, so I opened up the plastic covering, left the photos in place, and positioned my phone above each one to snap a photo of it. I started at the beginning and worked forward, so that if I sorted by date, the photos would be in order. Then I imported into Lightroom and spent a bit of time with each photo, increasing the contrast, adjusting the colours and orientation. I created a folder on my harddrive called Family Photos, and a subfolder within that called 1974-1989 My Childhood, where I stored all the photos.

For my remaining albums, I decided that I had too many photos – multiple photos of the same event, too many of people I barely remembered. I also had boxes of extraneous photos. I sorted the loose photos, choosing only the best to keep, and chucking the rest. I put the loose photos wil the album that most closely corresponded to that time in my life.

Then I started with the earliest album and removed just the best photos, which I would keep, adding in the loose photos at appropriate spaces. Often I ended up ditching the loose photos when I realised I had a better one in my album from the same event. I made a stack, ordered chronologically, of just my favourites. I took them to Officeworks for scanning – I found using the iPhone app tedious, and later I felt that the quality of the Officeworks scans was much higher. The scanning cost me $0.40 per photo. I did this step in batches – first the era between my childhood until I met Paula, then Paula’s and my early life together, then baby photos once Jesse was born, and so on. To do them all at once would have been too unwieldy and overwhelming.

Once all my photos were tweaked and stored digitally in folders corresponding to that era, I imported them into iPhoto to make Apple photobooks. I don’t think the Apple books are necessarily better than any others, but I had already printed a couple of these books, was happy with the quality, and liked that my new books would be the same size and shape. They would be pleasing sitting together on my shelf.

For most pages I used the 6-photos per page design, which meant that many of my photos were printed quite small. Even in small size, the image jolts the memory and makes me happy, but doesn’t take up too much space. It meant that my entire life, up until now, could fit onto four photobooks.


I stored them on a shelf in my wardrobe. They are small and light and already have been passed around interested visitors, in a way that I would never have done with my old albums. The old albums I threw out, except for that childhood one which Jesse wanted to keep. I’ve put it in the box of stuff I’m keeping for Jesse for when he’s grown up. Whenever I print a photobook of our family life, I print an extra copy for Jesse and add it to his box. As my mum did for me, I’ll give them all to him when he turns eighteen.

Finally, I exported all my Lightroom folders of photos, and stored them on Dropbox, and also on a USB stick and an external harddrive, so I’ve got plenty of back ups. It’s easy to find a photo because there’s not too much to wade through, and they are sorted by era, and in more recent cases, by year.


I got all my old VHS and mini-DV tapes and paid to have them converted to DVD. Then I used the free software Handbrake to rip from DVD to my computer. While Handbrake can rip at full size, I ripped a bit smaller. Like with the photos, I don’t need the highest quality image to enjoy it – I just want the memory. By ripping my videos smaller, it meant I could make a folder of home videos that is small enough to keep on my computer and Dropbox and that USB stick.

I used iMovie to edit the videos into small movies of around 5-15 minutes each, with a theme. I had a lot of videos of Jesse playing with his friends, dancing around wildly, so I created a dance video with clips of them from that time, all mixed up. It’s bright and fun and captures just their funniest moves. I made another video of my circus training days, that includes snippets of training on trapeze, web, cloudswing and more. I made a video of our family life for a particular era, and another video of my extended family. Each video I exported with the filename as YEAR_WHAT IT IS. Eg 2003 A day in the life of Jesse aged 7 weeks. That means that by sorting by title, they will be arranged in chronological order, and it is easy for me to scan through and find a video that would be of interest to show others.

I stored all my edited video clips in a folder called Home Videos.


I had a whole box of my creative writing from when I was a child. Novels and short stories I’ve written over the years. Many were print outs for which I didn’t have a matching digital file. I discovered that one novel I’d written had disappeared altogether. Although every time I’ve moved computers, I’ve been meticulous about transferring across my writing files, and I did have them all in Word orginally, obviously some files have not come across and I didn’t realise at the time. Hence the importance of keeping hard copies of these sorts of things. I was glad I had the print outs. It’s also why I made sure to print photobooks of my favourite photos.

I used Evernote app Scannable to scan in my documents – I found that easy and straightforward. The result was a PDF for each novel. I then loaded the PDF onto Google Drive and opened it with Google Docs – that automatically used OCR software to turn it into an editable document. Some docs came across fantastically and only needed a bit of editing to fix them up. Other, older pieces, that were printed back in the 80s, didn’t come up so well, and needed a lot of work to restore.

I decided to use Lulu to print a single book that contained all my creative writing and novels. Lulu is a print on demand self-publishing platform and the prices per book are very reasonable. The books look incedibly professional. I downloaded a Word template, and pasted in all my stories, making sure to follow the formatting. Using Heading 1 style for the title of each story, I could then generate a table of contents. I wrote a little introdution which describes each story, so that later if I or others want to read them, it’s easy to find one that will appeal in the moment. For the cover of my book, I ripped off Penguin’s classic book cover. I created a file in Photoshop with my book design.


I used the same templates for inside and book cover to create books with different coloured covers and titles, to print other items, such as my old digital journals, and a book I’d written about building my house. After I’d printed them all on Lulu and arranged them on my shelves, I was thrilled with how they looked. A key thing in creating these books was to keep it simple. I just used default templates and didn’t add fancy designs or fonts. All the books I printed have the same cover format. This saved me time and stress.




Over the years I’ve collected many press clippings from newspaper and magazine articles about me and my work. I arranged the best of these into plastic pocked folders, again in roughly chronological order, and included folded versions of my favourite posters and flyers from shows I made. I also kept a handful of posters which I rolled into a tube, which I might use later.

I ended up with three plastic pocket folders of clippings, which I’ve arranged on my shelf, along with a fourth one ready for future clippings, should there be more!

Digitally, I also organised my press clippings and work related memorabilia. For example, I had video clips of showreels for each of my circus acts, and I had videos and photos from various shows that I did. Since I do a lot of public speaking and am often asked to talk about my experiences, I find it’s helpful to have photos that reflect my history, but when the time comes, I can never find what I’m looking for. I’ve now made a single folder called Folio, in which I keep a record of publicity photos for my shows, key newspaper articles, and other achievements that reflect things I often speak about, such as building my house. I included a few photos of me as a child making dolls, and as a goth during my teenage years, to illustrate the way these fed into my creative life later. Again, every file has the year first, followed by a description of what it is. If I sort by title, they are in chronological order. Now if I give a talk about, say building my house, or obstacles I faced becoming a Deaf circus performer, I can grab the relevant images from my folio folder to illustrate my talk.

This digital folio also forms a wonderful record of my achievements to date and gives me much joy. Once I’d compiled everything and sorted by year, it was easy to include key files with my photobooks, so that my new albums also contain images of the shows I was working on at that time and articles in the press that made a difference.

I made a separate photo of Work Videos, again, each one titled with the year first, to put them in chronological order.


The final step was to create a folder called Memorabilia May 2016, and store all my sub folders in it. Once a year or so, I plan to add in new photos, videos, writing and folio items, and then I’ll update the date on the folder name. I’ve backed that up by storing it on Dropbox, an external hard drive, and a pair of USB sticks, each stored in a different physical location. Having put so much work into organising my memorabilia, I’d don’t want to risk losing it!

All my physical items I arranged at the back of my wardrobe shelves. They take up about 1.5 metres of shelf space, and consist of my journals (that’s most of it), my photo books, a copy of each book I’ve had published, the Lulu books I made of my writing, and a few miscellaneous items such as some scrapbooks, a folder of drawings from when I was a child and a book my mum made about our ancestors. Also filed as if it was a book is a small book-sized box, in which I keep a few physical treasures.


Since my wardrobe is deep, I also store other items in shoe boxes in front of my memorabilia. I don’t need to access my memorabilia every day, but now when I want to find something, it’s right there, not buried in a box in my shed, and it’s easy to move the shoe boxes out of the way to find what I’m looking for.


There you have it. Pardon the somewhat tedious descriptions. I wanted to show you HOW it was done. I would have found a guide like this really helpful, back when I was looking at boxes and boxes of stuff which didn’t, as a whole, bring me joy, even though the individual pieces did. Like I said, it took me about 2 months to do this, spending around 20-30 hours a week on the project. I wish I’d done it sooner. But now it’s done, I doubt I will ever let my memorabilia spiral out of control again. My systems should make it easy to maintain and catch up, with a bit of attention once a year or so.

All my creative things are stored and arranged neatly at my studio at the Abbotsford Convent.


My studio-4

My studio-3

My studio-2

My studio-1

All this organisation makes for much less clutter in my brain It’s easy to find things, and I feel lighter and clearer.

When I threw out most of my clothes, I was a little worried that I hadn’t kept enough. I could later see that I had plenty, and could easily pare down further. Here they are, arranged in shoe boxes so they all stand on end. I took these photos when some items were in the wash so you could see the box system.




We really don’t need much stuff to live well. It was amazing to have put my life in order, completely, and caught up all the un-done tasks that have been at the bottom of my to do list for years. I felt I learnt skills that I will apply for the rest of my life, for managing and storing my stuff. It was worth the huge life focus it took. I highly recommend it!

How gender stereotypes are created

Do you ever wonder why our society is so obsessed with gender? What makes it SO important that most of us simply cannot relate to a person unless we know their gender? Are boys and girls innately different or is it society that shapes us? I have wondered this for a long time, and finally I found a book that offered real, evidence-based answers:

Here’s what I learnt from the book

We are obsessed with gender.

The first thing a baby is likely to hear when out of the womb is a pronouncement of his/her gender. Every day, for the first weeks and months of a child’s life, they hear their parents announce over and over which gender they are. We use gender to label, sort, segregate and even colour-code people. It becomes the most important category to which a child belongs. it is like saying to our children, “Your gender is really, really important. It determines what activities you’ll like and how you will behave. Please pay attention to how boys and girls behave and act and shape your preferences accordingly.”

We humans love to categorise things.

Creating stereotypes is an innate trait – it’s a way for us to quickly and easily understand our world, and we do this from a young age. The reason that so many stereotypes centre around gender is because that’s the focus our society gives it. If we give children a different focus, they will just as quickly create stereotypes around that.

A study on stereotypes.

Rebecca Bigler, a professor of developmental psychology at the University of Texas, shows that simply labelling a group leads children to develop stereotypes about that group. For example, students in a primary school class were each given a red or blue T-shirt and told to wear it every day for six weeks. The teachers treated these colour groups in the same ways they would treat gender. They said, “Good morning, blue kids, red kids!” “Let’s line up blue, red, blue, red.” Names were written on a blue or red bulletin board and students had a card of that colour on their desk. Students weren’t asked to compete with each other and the teachers showed no favouritism towards either group. They simply labelled the kids as being red or blue, over and over again.

In the next classroom, a ‘control’ group of children wore red and blue T-shirts but the teachers never mentioned the colour.

The result?

After only four weeks, children formed stereotypes about their colour-coded groups. They liked their own group better than the other group. Red-shirted children would say, ‘The blue kids are not as smart as the red kids.’ Just like with gender, they said that all blue kids act one way and no red kids act another way. They began to segregate themselves, playing with kids from their own colour group more than those with the other colour group, and were more willing to help kids in their own group.

The children in the control group didn’t form any stereotypes based on colour. If adults ignored the groups, even when there were very visible differences, children did too.

Simply by mentioning gender all the time, and sorting our world based on gender (think separate toilets for men and women, separate sporting events for men and women, separate clothing areas in department stores…) even if we never say anything stereotyped about a particular gender, our children will form the stereotypes for themselves.

We shape ourselves to fit our group.

Through similar classroom experiments, Bigler showed that children teach themselves to like and remember the activities favoured by their group, and tend to dislike and forget the details of activities favoured by the other group. This explains why boys may like remember every make and model of cars, while girls might like and remember details of how to use make up. Children quickly identify which group they belong to, and set about shaping their own knowledge preferences to fit.

We trick ourselves into believing our own stereotypes.

Children (and adults too) tend to forget exceptions to the stereotypes. For example, many children form the stereotype that women like cooking. Even when researchers show children a photo of a man standing in front of a stove, and tell the that this man likes to cook dinner for his family, if they ask the children about the man later, it doesn’t alter their stereotypes about cooking. Some children, when shown a picture of a female school principal would later remember her as the ‘lunch lady’ or ‘secretary’, while they’d remember the male cook at a hospital as being a doctor. We actually alter our memories to fit our stereotypes, rather than allowing our stereotypes to be altered by experience.

What can we do?

Because stereotypes are so hard to change, it’s good to get in at birth if possible. But we can all start to shift things now by ending the way we label and divide our world by gender. Instead of saying ‘fireman’ say ‘firefighter’. Instead of saying ‘See that man over there?’ say ‘See that person over there? The one with the blue shirt?’ Instead of saying ‘Good girl,’ say ‘Good kid’. Don’t invite ‘the girls’ over, invite your ‘friends’ instead. As shown in the  classroom with red and blue T-shirts, language is powerful. Small alterations can make a big difference.

Let’s get started today. Who wants to join me in going gender-neutral for one week? Watch your language and see if you can delete gender from it as much as possible.

If you’d like a print of this painting to remind you to stay on track with going gender-neutral, you can order one here.

Happy unChristmas cards

This is a card for those of us who don’t really do Christmas but don’t want to give a total slap in the face to those around us that do, by ignoring it entirely. If, like me, you’re an un-Christmaser, maybe you’d like a pack of these? They sold out quickly last year so grab them while they are available if they take your fancy.

Check my shop around Christmas.

Colourful quirky prints

If you’re looking for something sweet, quirky and colourful to brighten up a room, maybe one of my prints will fit the bill?

I’ve got prints about girls who want to be rabbits and birds, lots of lovely faces to bring life to your room, lots of birds, and plenty of prints about Deafness too.

Check them out here

if you have a blank spot on your wall that needs sparking up.

Antlers and Stripes Christmas cards

These are my most popular Christmas cards. I’ve ordered several packs for this year, but they always sell out so if you’d like some, get in quickly. The card features a papier mache antler doll I made myself, who wears a sweet little striped suit knitted by my fabulous friend, Torhild Trydal. On the front are the words “Merry Christmas” which I wrote with my own handwriting. It’s plain inside, read for you to write your own greeting for family and friends.

You’ll find packs of 5 in my shop here.


Make the book of your dreams testimonial


One of the things I’ve loved about running my journal e-course, Make The Book Of Your Dreams, is getting to chat with my students and watch their progress with their own journals. I have a Facebook group just for course participants and I often post mini tutorials there about how to make a certain kind of page. And I get feedback from students too.

I just wanted to share this one with you.. a really lovely comment from Niki na Meadhra, who came to my first ever course in making an art journal. I bumped into her a month or so later in a cafe. She’d come with her journal tucked under her arm, ready to work on it over a morning coffee. I was blown away. Her journal was amazing. She’d used all the ideas I taught in the class and with her own touch, it looked so uniquely HERS. And this is what she told me…

‘This course has changed my life! It is a generous and rich process that you are sharing with us, Asphyxia. It has been very powerful for me. My journal carries its own energy and came with a huge spurt of focus and joyous creating, reflecting, selecting, responding, noodling and doodling. It is very much a grounding and connecting tool which joins together things that seem so random. Suddenly, when held in the physical form of the journal and linked visually, they make enormous sense and fitting and belonging together. It is hard to express how it works. It feels like magic. It manifests the workings of the unconscious, so that they can be read more plainly. The pages of these journals can capture all kinds of moments and moments layered on each other in potent ways. No matter how many times I go back to my journal and meander through its pages, it still speaks loudly to me.I found my own style based on your format and process, and developed my own journaling habits with it. Asphyxia, I’m so grateful for your generous guidance and insight and creative abundance in leading me so skilfully through this process!’

Anyway, how lovely is that? If you want to try the course yourself, you’ll find it here.

Do you have the privilege…?

In case you can’t read the writing on this painting, it says, ‘Do you have the privilege of being unaware of your Hearing Privilege?’

A friend mentioned that she’d noticed a real sense of ‘hearing privilege’ among her classmates at uni, who treat the the deaf student as though she’s not as intelligent as the rest of them.

‘How do you know they think that?’ I asked.

‘Well, it’s in the subtle things. When we’re discussing ideas for projects, no-one ever asks what she thinks. When we start work, people offer to help her with her work, but never ask her to help them. It adds up.’

My friend just articulated something insidious that I’ve never really been able to put my finger on. That’s how people treat me (until they know me better), and day after day, in situation after situation, I start to find myself feeling like the sweet little pet of those around me, instead of a valuable, interesting contributing member of society.

Being patronised this way is a routine experience for most Deaf people. The problem is not being unable to hear, but the attitude of other people.

Please share this post to do your bit to raise awareness about this tricky issue.

Giclee prints of this artwork are available in my shop and make a fantastic gift.

About opening my own doors…

Sometimes doors open for me. Mostly I open them myself. This is how I have survived, and thrived, as a Deaf person.

Let me tell you about one way I’ve opened my own door, a while ago. I wanted to study an online course that would teach me how to sell my paintings more effectively. The course was advertised with a limited time to apply, and a limited number of students would be accepted. I emailed the teacher and asked him if it would be accessible to Deaf people. I know he usually teaches using videos, and sometimes has transcripts as well.

I didn’t hear back, and I didn’t want to pester him. Unfortunately I let too much time go by and applications closed. I’d missed out. I was really disappointed. I decided that I’d try to create my own course, and use the internet to answer the questions I wanted answered about selling artworks. I devised my own curriculum.

But unfortunately the finer points of the stuff I wanted to know, I couldn’t glean from Google. No go.

Some months later, the course was advertised again. I didn’t waste any time. I put in my application right away. this time I included the question in my application, ‘Will this course be accessible for Deaf people?’

I got a reply immediately. ‘I’m sorry, but this course is not suitable for deaf.’

There was no mention of how we might find a way to make it work. Sigh. I emailed back, suggesting some ideas. Perhaps I could buy the transcripts from the earlier course, at a reduced price? No, they weren’t available yet. None of my ideas was met with any juice. He pointed me towards another of his courses, one which I felt I already had a pretty good handle on and didn’t need to take.

Nevertheless, I put in the application form for it and described in detail all the achievements of my art business to date, the goals for my business, and exactly how I felt he could help me.

To my surprise, that changed everything. Suddenly the door was open. I sounded hardworking and focussed (yep.. maybe he assumed that Deaf people aren’t?), and I’ve got some momentum happening (yes.. did he assume that I didn’t?)…. From there we were able to negotiate. We’d do type-skypes, and because he was a little slow at typing, he’d throw in an extra one. I really appreciated that. Instead of just me busting a gut to get this information, he was prepared to extend himself too.

I’m most of the way through the course now and the results have been amazing. My art business is going from strength to strength. My teacher has described me as one of his hardest working students, which doesn’t surprise me. I’ve always had to work very hard to get what I want. Because those doors, they don’t open easily. They take a fair bit of prising.

But I’m glad I’ve got the guts to do it, because that’s what’s gotten me where I am today, with a fabulous career, a stack of published books, and a mudbrick eco-home that I built myself.

This painting is for everyone who needs a bit of inspiration to work at their own doors. It’s especially for those of us with some extra challenges to get them open. The original is in a museum in a Deaf school in Delaware, but prints are available in my shop.

If you’d like to do your bit to help raise awareness, feel free to share this post. Thanks!

Prints and artworks about Deafness

If you’d like some artwork on the wall that is for Deaf people, by a Deaf artist, and reflects Deaf values, you might like one of my prints. I have heaps of different images available and they include Deaf activism, Deaf experience and Deaf pride.

These prints are great for the lounge room wall, and would also suit spaces where services are offered to Deaf people – think Deaf units in schools, Deaf clubs/societies, audiology clinics, interpreting agencies and more.

If you want something striking, or a splash of colour, along with a great message, check out my prints here.