Joy.
It's been one of those rare weeks that mixes bloody brilliant with utter shite...the massive highs and lows have hit so hard that I'm at barely functional Friday...gotta love Autistic burnout.
Have an adequate weekend all.
Spectrum Sinema: The Return.
It's that time of the year again where I drag this out for its annual airing. Enjoy. In those dreamy pre-Coronavirus days, I'd spend the time between drawing stuff for a living and wandering around meeting various folk to find out what they actually want me to draw (it keeps me off - well on - the streets I guess) I spend most of my time inanely blogging about films. Now I just do that constantly obviously. You can find my ramblings here but beware as it's frequently not safe for work according to Google. And it's probably not safe to read at home too. Especially if you care about the proper use of grammar. Anyway thought I'd share one of the rare (semi) serious posts I do occasionally over there as it seems fairly relevant. You see a few years back I got into a discussion with my partner in crime (and token NT person in the house*) Rho about how most films dealing with Autism are pretty turgid affairs full of struggle, heartache and defying the od
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