Aut Splash
I’m autistic, and I film the way I see the world.
I’m tired of talking about intellectual abilities and concepts, I want to talk about feelings
The way I feel is always a collage of reality, and the themes of confusion and defamiliarisation are all EQUALLY important and EQUALLY incomprehensible and can only be built up by perception to understand
that’s how I see the world.
I use double exposures, I shoot in the moment of strong feelings, I put a print through my body in the picture — I don’t need self-portraits for it to be a self-portrait.
In the last shoot I made the portrait of the mermaid and that’s how 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.
Strange figures, can’t catch it, what’s going on, why everything is so fast and loud, can we please take turns talking
But yes, there is joy here. 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.
I want the photographs to touch your eyes the same way the world touches me through the senses — and makes me numb.
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
