AbezAbez Is... 50% White, 50 % Pakistani, Muslim Hijab-wearing type female, Daughter of Momma, Sister of Owlie Wife of HF, Momma of Khalid, a special little boy with Autism, and Iman, a special little girl with especially big hair, Writer, Graphic Designer, Editor, Freelancer, Blogger, Inhaler of Chocolate
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Prometheus, who buts brains to blog about Autism

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Saturday, April 12, 2003


My second art gallery visit was much better than the first. I was quite impressed with the quality of the art there, and I came home thinking artsy thoughts...thinking about pulling out my sister’s water colors or finger-painting with food coloring if she won’t let me use her paint. I saw lots of things I liked, and though the prices were highly prohibitive (12,000 rupees for a painting= $200) I did get a lot of good decorating ideas. And I learned that the gallery also has pottery classes.

I used to throw pottery (not on the floor, at least not often) on a wheel back in my college days (Ah...ancient history) and I really enjoyed it. I was thinking about taking the class, the price is pretty good, but it’s outdoors. The only benefit to having an outdoor pottery class in a Pakistani summer is that you won’t need the kiln to bake the pieces. Just leave them out in the sun, yeah right next to you, cuz it’s 45 C/ 110F with 70% humidity anyways. Contrary to common belief, I’m not crazy, and I’d prefer to bake pottery than my head. I’ll wait till fall, or until they move indoors where there’s an air-conditioner!

So I came home after a lovely afternoon at the art gallery with two of my buddies (Hi Maria! Hi Sonia!) and was in the mood for doing some interior decorating. I periodically have these urges, and I usually satisfy them by rearranging all the furniture in the house. Maybe this time I’ll do some wishy-washy looking art, or sew a pair of pants. (sew a pair of pants?) Yes, pants. An ill-fitting pair that will tie with a string and be seen by no one but me and the family members who will ridicule me. And a shirt to go with it. It doesn’t matter what I wear around the house anyway. They all know I’m a bum. If they don’t by now, they’ll figure it all out by the time I’m done.

So anyway, I was feeling artsy when I sat down to a plate of leftover carrot sticks and hummus, when suddenly I was :::queue heavenly music::: INSPIRED!!! So, with my trusty dull fruit knife in one hand, and a solitary carrot stick in the other, I made art.

It was a difficult process.

A journey of self-discovery.

For what is art but a physical reflection of the soul?

What is art but a carrot stick carved into a crocodile?


It was an honest-to-goodness sculpture. I even feigned some angst while I was at it. If I hadn’t laughed hysterically at the finished croco-carrot and then popped it in my mouth, I might have been able to arrange an exhibit and sell it for at least 12,000 rupees. (see, this in itself is a testament to how hot the weather is already. I...feel...baked...) Eh.

And here’s one of my favorite Hadith. The Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings of God be upon him, said: “By God Who owns my life, none of you can be completely faithful unless (and until) you like for your brother what you like for yourself.” (Bukhari and Muslim)

But wait, still there’s more! I found my high-tech ankle brace, so I’ll be the bionic English teacher from now on. My students already knew I was kinda dull and robotic, now they’ll know I’m a cyborg, yikes! I also found my sunglasses. Both of them. They were trapped in display cases in a shop, and the shopkeeper was holding them for ransom. The nerve!

I’m going to go see if my sunglasses need anything. They have been though a rather tough ordeal you know. Peace! -The Bionic Sensei

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