About Me

Growing up in 70’s/80s, I often felt like I was navigating a world that wasn’t built for me. School was an institution designed to see things only for how they were and not what they could be. Today I recognise that I wasn’t disruptive or rebellious—I just existed on a different frequency. I’d get lost in my own thoughts, fascinated by patterns, by the static hum of the ceiling fans or the fluorescent light bulbs, the constant buzz of the bright purple fly-mozie zapper, all of these things would transport me to places I couldn’t explain. The world was loud, unpredictable, and overwhelming, and I didn’t have the words to describe why.

I grew up in a deeply neurodivergent family, though none of us knew it at the time. We just adapted, each in our own way, moving through life without the language to explain why we thought, felt, and processed the world differently. I struggled with sensory overload, moments of being unable to speak under stress, and an intense awareness of the unspoken—of what people meant rather than what they said. How can I ever please you when you can’t please yourself? I would mutter under my breathe. I understood people deeply, yet often felt unseen myself.

My search for meaning has always been tied to patterns. Words are mathematics. Mathematics are words. Their equations provide meaning. I see connections where others see chaos. I feel music as much as I hear it. I recognise the symmetry of a sunflower as a metaphor for something much greater—proof that everything is connected, even in ways we can’t yet comprehend.

It wasn’t until my ADHD diagnosis in 2023—and a later realisation that autism was also part of my story—that everything started to click into place. It’s a bit like finding a lost limb that you never knew you’d lost.The struggles, the sensitivities, the deep emotional responses to music, the abstract way I process the world—it all made sense. My entire life, I’ve felt like I was completely misunderstood. What I didn’t realise was that it was me that misunderstood myself the most. No wonder everyone else was confused.

I work in IT and have done so since the early 2000’s. Today as a Business Analyst, I’m often untangling complex systems and finding patterns others overlook. But creativity has always been my compass. I write poetry, short stories, and essays that explore the way everything is connected—music, memory, time, and the unseen forces shaping our lives. I play the drums as an immersive form of stimming, which allows me to tap into something bigger than myself, a rhythm that feels both deeply personal and universal. I even sketch to deconstruct and then recompile structures and objects that capture my attention.

Diversity is what keeps me focused. I embrace the contradictions, the synchronicities, the unexplainable. Ironic intuition. Spooky action at a distance. Be careful blind sheep, for there are wolves lurking in the shadows.

And yet, I’ve learned that even in the vastness of space, there is warmth. Breathe, stay calm, don’t panic—the blanket will come.

I don’t claim to have the answers, but I do know this: everything is connected. And that belief keeps me moving forward.

Life—it’s but one form of what I call a Cosmic Equation. The formula is the place in which we find answers, they continue to evolve every single day.