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World travelling, north of the 49th living, Caribbean born, Barcelona dreaming makeup artist. A motionless perpetual motion machine.
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The Lightshow


School was difficult for me. Not the actual work, I found that rather lacking in challenge for the most part, the difficulty for me was due to the odd little way my mind is wired.

Being a non-linear thinker is not all that unusual. Neither is the attention disorder which marked most of my time at school. I was lucky, I had a great mother who did all she could to engage me. She saw what captured my attention and did her best to help me explore these things. My childhood self was surrounded by books, music, and art.

What made school a task was the images which played through my mind. Sound creates a rich visual tapestry; music became the soundtrack for the light show in my head.

http://www.bruggadung.com

Mmmmmmm, shiny.

My trouble focusing was exacerbated by my realisation that whatever my instructors were sharing at the front of the class paled in comparison to the incredible scene playing out in my mind. Oddly, silence was worse. My mind sought out things to keep itself occupied. Funny how it was often not the lesson being shared with the class.

http://www.bruggadung.com

http://www.bruggadung.com

http://www.bruggadung.com
 
I spent some time learning about what was happening in my head. I try to become engaged in the process instead of just passively watching it happen. I wrote down the words which danced through my mind, I assumed the numbers which floated by were the answers to math problems (they were). The words which appeared were not made up, they were words I had yet to learn. I would close my eyes when lost or confused and try to filter the images and things would reorder themselves and become clearer. Shapes, textures, numbers suddenly were not so random after all.

Each voice has a colour pattern, each sound has a shape. Numbers have personalities and colours. Colours have tastes and sounds. Sounds have emotion. It was a lot for my young mind. It was a lot for my mother at times.

As I grew, I did learn how to filter and block the internal show, the exception being just before a headache. Just before a headache, all bets were off, all barriers down. My mind becomes flooded by the textures and sights of sound.

It would be beautiful if it did not hurt so much.

When I was a young teen, my GP put a name to the visions. When I was in my late 20s, I became interested in the phenomenon and finally was able to learn a bit more about it. Though I have yet to find out why my mind does this thing, I was able to find some comfort and could finally talk about the jealousy of red and the green of 5.
 
jndc
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