October 2022: Ray Hemachandra and Nicholas Hemachandra at the parklet in Asheville, North Carolina, at the Center for Craft, created in conjunction with the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians.

You’re My Son

My son Nicholas is autistic, and he has echolalia. But what he says in repeated speech can carry as much meaning—and sometimes even more feeling—as the “right” words.

Love in the Time of Segregation and Discrimination

I came upon a box of a few dozen random—utterly random—photographs yesterday: family photos in NYC from a half-century before … More

Remembering My Aunt Hattie

Sometime after her sister, my mother, died and before her Alzheimer’s developed to the point she didn’t recognize or know … More

The Four Chambers: Love, Life, Lust, and Loss, for Autistics Just Like Everyone Else

I’ve been thinking a lot about joy lately, and especially about how the same experience or circumstance or day or … More

Come Fly with Me: Angels Cheer

I am 47 years old. I turn 48 late this month. I haven’t been someone who has ever given too … More

Do you love?

Do we love? Do we love another person less because he or she happened to be born in another country … More

Jonathan Goldman on the highest intention of sound healing: love

Ray: What would you most like the enduring legacy of your sound-healing music and work to be? Jonathan: Love. If … More

Masaru Emoto on Love and Gratitude

Ray: When you publish a water-crystal photograph — say, for example, in The Hidden Messages in Water, your first … More