Aut Splash
I’m autistic, that ‘not often in need of support’ type — which simply means I can scream quetly inside myself when overwhelmed, and usually handle the meltdowns on my own.
The way I feel is always a collage of reality, everything is happening at the same time and from all sides. In this project, through multi-exposure, intuitive texts and working with my emotional states, I show the sensations of the world of a person with autism spectrum disorder.
Basically I feel not-quite-as-human, enchanted existence, you either talk or walk, not all at once. I feel inundated with emotion, and simultaneously unable to join in.
Our world is still almost unbearable for autistic people, whether you cope without support or not. A tube journey can be insurmountable without dropping out of your life for a week, and so can be a meeting in a pub. Autistic people, we live like aliens on a planet with a different — inappropriate — air. We have to go out, clearly calculating the amount of air in the breathing cylinder with us, otherwise we suffocate.
But yes, there is joy here, too. The physical happiness of shimmering colours, of a shining world. Sounds that make me happy — as powerful as sounds that displease. I want you to see it, all of it. I want the photographs to touch your eyes the same way the world touches me through the senses — and makes me numb.
This project I am doing not only for myself, but also for those who are non-verbal and cannot express themselves through art, who are excluded from the society and from public dialogue. If, thanks to this project, someone gets support and understanding instead of judgement and rejection, it means to me that a breath of air has been added to someone, not taken away.

I feel the sea like home, the most comforting place, her sound calms me like a song, can I please come back
(yes)

I made this portrait of the mermaid in Folkestone, and it’s the exact feeling of what it is to be autistic when it comes to socialising.
Strange figures, can’t catch it, what’s going on, why everything is so fast and loud, can we please take turns talking

I just have to stand still to make room for everything that flows from the world through me.
It’s a lot for a day

small things are friends, and I can trust them more than humans, they are solid, they stay the way they are

Autistic Joy
as the sun travels from dawn to dusk, illuminating things with magical pollen.
the little joys that make me so happy — like the gift of each day.
colour. light. oozing like the impressionists.
I don’t need a special technique to see the world like this, it’s built-in

[this new picture reflects the experience of autistic joy seeing a bunch of small identical objects. It gives me so much WHEEEEE inside!]

Autistic Rage
sounds
feelings
smells
breezes
everything
everything
EVERYTHING
is
too
much
Finger spells
If I were living in Medieval I would be burnt already, just because of fidgeting I do with my hands. Are all witches autistic?


Words are gone
Sometimes they are. Sometimes I can only look. Is it an ancient cast, I guess. I am a translator from my language to human and back again, I do it in snapshots, poems, existence on earth. Sometimes the translator goes on strike.

You’ve got a fish not a girlfriend
For some days. I can’t feel. My love is like an old costume, my human feelings, my thoughts. I just put if off. And stay. Inside the glass jar. Resting.
Underwaterrr
(once upon a time there lived a man who had a selkie bride and he burned her skin and she sailed away forever)
Don’t burn my funny skin.
I need to float in the void once in a while.
In the shape of myself.

every walk is a walk in the dark
very lonely
2022-ongoing