Statement of Interest. Notes.
I’m fascinated (
obsessed by, perhaps) by the notion of ferality, as described by Merriam-Webster as;
Definition of feral:
a. of, relating to, or suggestive of a wild beast (feral teeth) (feral instincts).
b. not domesticated or cultivated (feral animals).
c. having escaped from domestication and become wild (feral cats).
This definition pictures a previously domesticated animal that has returned to a natural state; city dogs, ponies, humans who have ‘gone wild‘. One way of thinking about this is a previously colonized creature now living in nonnormative ways, and exhibiting nonnormative traits.
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Much like the social construction of my own body, ravaged environments were “wounded space[s],” colonized and cast aside by ableist, capitalist culture.5 I found comfort in environments whose burdens were as heavy as my own and utilized these environments as partners for mourning as well as spaces of alternative strategy for practicing nonnormativity.6 Bringing disability into conversation with ravaged environments has been an essential part of how I’ve navigated and survived normative culture. These environments accepted me without complication: they taught me, before disability studies could, that physical disability is a condition of relational misfitting.7 Like me, these environments had been cast as misfits—unrestorable bodies—and under my gaze, they became a new baseline of correspondence, one that replaced ableist culture and its means of comparison.
Sara J. Grossman, writing in Living Lexicon
Thoughts: nonnormativity, ferality, disability, anti-psychiatry, neuro-divergence.
Way-finding (verb) cultural and personal practice; 1. To plot a course between two points of departure and destination…
I’m in the middle of leaving a house of nine years and perhaps a country that has been a home for twenty – and so I shouldn’t be surprised to find myself stressed-out, disjointed, twitchy-limbed and generally disassociative. Manically ordering things into Keep, Kill, and Give Away boxes, before a memory in a bare kitchen forces you to resort said boxes. Moving is, I have realized, doing the Shell Game thing with your entire life.
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