Just a quick open-up of a typical approach I use for making stuff.
Full Size Here…
Somchai’s view of our ‘About‘.
The flotsam of circumstance’s disdain.
Cast onto the same shore of our own self discovery, we set out to explore that not unfamilar new world, seeking answers to the mystery of what we were now seen to be. Even though we were obligated to a convenience, THEIR convenience, we wondered what ‘thing’, what type of ‘thing’ we would become.
In our own varied countries, diagnosis of Aspergers is a childhood right, but when we were children, it was scarce – so we joined the abyss of the overlooked and spurned. Thus, we became Asperger adults, but never knew it. Eventually, enevitably, predictably(?), obviously(??), our paths collided, merged, entwined, combined, coalesced…. We created a destination for ourselves, our Asperger Artist Alliance – our ‘child’. Similar minds, yet different, whilst alike, but not the same. This was, dangerous. This was risky. This child would be our saviour from the storm that envelops the Normalness Folk, a citadel of surity in a chaos of conflict and menace, or maybe just anchor us in sorrow.
As Aspergers we live in two very different worlds, thus are uniquely placed to look around in fascination and amazement, (and maybe see more than we should?) Experiments began with possible means and from out of these was born the idea of ‘the Construct’. We found inspiration and common cause from our history and our plight. We sought a contribution to the reality of Asperger people and liberation of the mis-understanding shown by so many of those who are not. Different is not less, it is DIFFERENT.
This hidden path and personal discovery are buried beneath a lifetime of contradictory and misleading beliefs about ourselves. But we broke free, we made it to that shore. Our Art, our Writing, they bridge the gap between those two worlds. Our regret for fate’s cruel joke, binds us in solace and the need to move on. We carry the cost of our own histories – and use it as the fuel that fires our resolve. We embrace the burning realm of the impossible, imagined.
Taunted by the shadow, we dared to listen to that whisper in the dark.
A wonderment postponed, the fallout bleak.
Veracity’s painful loss.
A self denied.
Yargo’s view of our ‘About‘.
Arkay’s view of our ‘About’.