I got thinking about space today, after another bizarre lift journey where I stood next to a random stranger for two floors up to the office and then left that space without saying a word.

LB has made me think about spaces differently.  He uses space in a way that is out of the ordinary. He uses spaces that other people don’t use. I remember one time when he was a toddler, he disappeared in his bedroom.  I had a few heart-stopping minutes before finding him fast asleep on the second shelf of a Billy bookshelf.

Later, when he started school, he’d come home and climb in the swing bin if it was empty. He’d want the lid on and would stay, tucked up, till tea time.  We sort of got used to it though I sometimes worried that someone would turn up unexpectedly and wonder what the fuck was going on.

Visiting Warwick Castle.

I know now that it’s a bit to do with sensory issues. I think he gets comfort from having some pressure on the sides of his head (bit like Temple Grandin).

By the riverbank.

He also likes to separate himself from social interaction quite often.  All fair enough.

I like the random and refreshing use of spaces that kind of breaks social rules, but also shows how rigid we are with our movements.

I think I’m going to talk in the lift tomorrow.