So I had to laugh when I saw today’s prompt: “Do you have any collections?” Oh, do I? Listen, if collecting were an Olympic sport, I’d be standing on the podium draped in gold, grinning like I just found another rare addition to one of my many, many treasures. You see, those of us with ASD tend to have this trait in spades, and I’m no exception. My collections aren’t just things—they’re tiny universes orbiting my slightly chaotic, highly creative world. Buckle up, we’re going on a tour of my brain in tangible form. And yes, there will be plants, beads, art supplies, books, and a touch of chaos. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Let’s start with my plants. Ah, my leafy companions, my green army of joy. Once upon a time, I was a certified plant assassin. I could not, for the life of me, keep a plant alive. Seriously, if you ever wanted to see a succulent sob in despair, you should’ve handed it to me circa five years ago. I overwatered, underwatered, and sometimes simply stared at them hoping they’d grow through sheer willpower. But then, like magic—or, more accurately, like a Google rabbit hole—I discovered leca. For the uninitiated, that’s lightweight expanded clay aggregate, a semi-hydroponic method of plant growth. Basically, it’s like giving your plants a five-star spa treatment. No soil, fewer bugs, and far fewer plant illnesses to decipher like a cryptic medical drama. With leca, I control the nutrients entirely, and it’s a game-changer. I’ve gone from a self-proclaimed black thumb to a slightly smug plant whisperer.

Now, this isn’t just about pothos and monsteras, although trust me, I’ve got those in all their trailing, vining glory. My pothos collection alone could rival a jungle—golden pothos, neon pothos, and even a variegated marble queen that looks like it was hand-painted by nature itself. My monstera deliciosa, aptly nicknamed “Monarch,” is thriving so aggressively that I’ve had to buy a bigger trellis three times or is it four. As for my jade succulents, they gleam like tiny emerald gems under the sunlight. Even my dragon tree stands tall and proud, its spiky leaves looking like a green fireworks display. I’ve even managed to coax plants into thriving in leca that supposedly “don’t like it”. Maybe it’s because I water based on what their growing conditions would be like if they were in the natural ecosystem. Or maybe it’s my stubborn refusal to follow conventional rules. Either way, they’re alive, and I call that a win. Plus my plants are known to be a bit more hardy then most cause winter and me liking my window cracked year round unless it is beyond cold. Though my fibro does not thank me for this.

Beyond their greenery and charm, my plants also serve functional purposes, extending far beyond their ability to purify the air. Each species is chosen with care, tailored to the needs of the rooms they inhabit—or are supposed to inhabit, because let’s face it, most of them inevitably migrate to my bedroom. Take pothos, for example: their resilience and vibrant growth make them perfect for filling any space with life, while spider plants are nature’s air-purifiers, working tirelessly to remove toxins unnoticed by the human eye.

Snake plants, with their striking upright leaves, contribute to improving indoor oxygen levels, even at night—a handy trait for any sleeping quarters. Then there’s jade and monstera; jade, with its compact elegance, is said to bring good luck, and monstera’s broad, glossy leaves lend an architectural drama to any decor. Together, these plants transform my rooms into sanctuaries, each serving a purpose both aesthetic and practical. No wonder they end up surrounding me where I rest—they’re my green guardians, my living companions in creativity and calm.

This year, though, I’ve decided to get adventurous. I’m adding culinary herbs and small food plants into my leca collection. Imagine plucking fresh basil, mint, or cherry tomatoes from the same shelf where my glossy monstera leaf casually catches the light. It’s like having a greenhouse in my kitchen well bedroom given where all my plants eventually land anyway. And yes, I’m fully prepared for the chaos of figuring out which plants will play nice together. Spoiler: probably not the mint. Mint is like that one coworker who takes over the entire office, and I suspect it will try to colonize my plant shelf too. However that is the delight of growing semi hydroponic is that I get to keep these more wild growing plants contained. It shouldn’t be hard as long as I can get them started in the leca properly. You see any time you water it is only to about 1/3 of every plant container. Keep it there most are happy, succulents prefer once a month.

From the leafy to the sparkly, let me introduce you to my bead collection. Oh, beads. These tiny, colorful, mischievous little devils have wormed their way into my heart and my free time. I make earrings, lighter cases, and let’s be real, anything else that can be adorned with beads. I started beading young, armed with enthusiasm and absolutely zero technique. It was…a journey. My first projects were laughably clumsy, but I loved the process so much that I kept going.

Things didn’t really click for me until I dove into the world of beading regalia and moccasins. Those techniques? Life-changing. Suddenly, I wasn’t just stringing beads; I was creating tiny masterpieces. I use the two-needle method which I found out later was supposed to be harder to learn where as I can not grasp the simple method though for the life of me. Oh well one day maybe lol.

But here’s the kicker: collecting beads and actually beading are two entirely separate hobbies. Don’t believe me? My bead collection could probably fill a small museum. It’s like a kaleidoscope exploded in my craft stash. Seed beads, cabs (those little circles with the images), and other items that shine and shimmer—I’ve got them all. And don’t even get me started on the tools, thread, and hoops. My collection includes that are called bone beads, those long cylinder ones you see on a lot of regalia of the dancers. It’s a routine joke among my friends that my “bead shopping” habit is entirely unrelated to my “bead crafting” habit. I mean, who can resist when you come across that perfect shade of iridescent green or those impossibly tiny size 15 beads? Not me, that’s for sure.

Next up: art supplies. My love for creating images spans so many mediums it’s a wonder I haven’t yet converted an entire room into an art studio. I paint. I draw. I wood-burn. I carve. If it can be turned into a tool for image-making, it’s probably somewhere in my ever-growing stash. Do I need six different types of graphite pencils? Absolutely. What about twenty shades of blue acrylic paint? Yes, that’s non-negotiable. And don’t even talk to me about my wood-burning kit—it’s my pride and joy.

Art, for me, isn’t just a hobby; it’s a necessity. It’s how I process the world, how I decompress, and how I share pieces of myself. One day, I might be sketching delicate botanical illustrations. The next, I’m carving abstract patterns into a wooden block like some kind of 21st-century artisan. My paints, brushes, carving tools, and pyrography pens are scattered across a workspace that closely resembles a creative explosion. But hey, isn’t that the hallmark of a true artist? My latest obsession has been experimenting with layering techniques—mixing pastels with inks, or wood-burning designs then painting over them for an unexpected twist.

Oh, and let’s not forget cross-stitching, because apparently, I wasn’t collecting enough hobbies already. There’s something incredibly soothing about the rhythm of needle and thread, the way tiny Xs come together to form a picture. My collection of cross-stitch patterns, hoops, and floss is borderline ridiculous, but I regret nothing. It’s all part of the creative process. Sometimes I’ll spend hours meticulously following a pattern, and other times I’ll freestyle like a maverick. Either way, the end result is uniquely mine. My favorite projects are ones with bold, colorful designs—think floral arrangements and celestial motifs. Plus between the beading and cross stitch when people annoy me I get to say ‘Careful, I have the patience to stab things hundreds of times’ which is not a lie either. It makes me grin when I say it.

Now, brace yourself for the most predictable collection of all: books. Yes, I am that person who can devour a 700-page novel in a single day and still crave more. My bookshelves are groaning under the weight of Christine Feehan, Jacquelyn Frank and Sherrilyn Kenyon novels, not to mention an eclectic mix of medical studies, fantasies, and the occasional nonfiction gem, oh yea we can’t forget Shakespeare. If ever there were a zombie apocalypse, my library could double as a fortress. Books aren’t just objects to me; they’re portals to other worlds, lifelines, and sometimes even best friends. That’s just the hard copies you should see my e-readers, yes plural. My collection isn’t limited to novels either. I’ve got poetry anthologies, archie comics, and even an assortment of vintage cookbooks that I occasionally thumb through for inspiration.

Though, I can never seem to do anything halfway, my book collection isn’t limited to just the stories themselves. Oh no. I have to bead bookmarks, and the usual reading paraphernalia which includes the stereotypical glasses on my face. It’s a whole ecosystem of bookish delight. Some of my bookmarks are handcrafted, others are souvenirs from travels, and a few are quirky gifts from friends who understand my literary obsession as well of course..

Of course, there are other collections too—odds and ends that don’t fit neatly into categories but still spark joy. There’s the cords from any device for power, tools, bongs and pipes, and let’s not even talk about my mug collection. (Seriously, how many mugs does one person need? The answer is always “one more.”) Each item tells a story, each collection a snapshot of who I am and what I love. My mug shelf has everything from hand-painted pottery to novelty mugs with hilarious slogans.

So, do I have collections? Oh, let me tell you—I am the queen of collecting. It’s not just about acquiring things; it’s about curating tiny pockets of passion and creativity. My collections are reflections of my personality, little pieces of order in my wonderfully chaotic world. And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I would love to know about your collections to please.