Origins Story

Idle hands are the Devil's workshop… a common phrase when talking about boredom. It is a biblical expression. Often times it is to tell people that to keep away from sinning, one must keep busy. The question to ask is, what happens when the hands of the Devil are idle? I don't quite have the slightest idea how to answer that.

As an autistic woman, it has never been that easy to express what I was thinking. One of the reasons was that verbal was never my forte. Naturally, that led me to gravitate towards mediums that didn't require giving eye contact or understanding underlining social cues.

While I felt the need to create, I still found myself hitting walls. For as long as I could remember, I was creatively stuck. I have a rather nasty habit of starting projects but never completing them. Photo series, paintings, one uncompleted feature-length script… it is an endless list of abandoned projects. I would say the reason for the uncompleted projects was probably due to boredom. Maybe some of it was believed if that something is not perfect, it is not worth completing.

Mostly because I felt that I really wasn't saying what I wanted to say. I wanted to be radically honest, but I also was afraid of what I may say. Of people being pissed off or to be simply dismissed. My own ability to stand socially and economically as a disabled woman relies on me being complicit. However, it also brings my own and others dismay.

One thing I toyed with was starting a blog. Throughout the pandemic, I began to read more personal writings by disabled writers and creators. It inspired me to look further into my disability rather than dismiss it. Writers like Rebekah Taussig made me feel seen and want to write my own tales.

It is an archaic idea, but it intrigued me. I wanted to have a place to share my writings that weren't on social media. I thought of just posting on various social media sites. However, I didn't want to have my work in the hands of a social media company. Plus, I am on Instagram way too much, and TikTok is absolute poison to my nervous system.

Around the start of the pandemic, I started blogging for work. A couple of pieces here and there, but they gave me something I hadn't entirely found. A purpose. Something both creatively and intellectually stimulating to do. It was the first time in years, I felt excited to create and share.

When coming up with a handle for this blog, I didn't want to do something cutesy. Having tried to be quirky, it has grown rather tiresome. I didn't want a name that would have forced me to keep a sanitized sheen over my writing. I kept coming back to the biblical phrase. As a lapsed Catholic, I like having a handle that contradicts some of the backward moral teachings.

This blog is a mix of writing personal stuff, as most blogs are. I write about art, disability, and everything else that cannot be filled into a neat package. I also want to toy with writing fiction, so that may come in the future.

Maybe in a sense, writing is what keeps my hands busy, but not too busy. Even sinners need rest.