The first thing people asked me when they learned that I had written a memoir was, "why?" Well, that was the polite question; others really wanted to know who on Earth I thought I was to write a memoir. I mean really; I'm an artist, a painter of pictures, not someone noteworthy like a president or an actor.

I think the idea of turning 50 this year had something to do with it. It's an age where one naturally reflects on their life. Add to that the recent pandemic and having all kinds of time on my hands, and voila, I set pen to paper (fingers to keyboard, really, but you get the idea).

Looking back, I can honestly say the first 50 years have been quite a ride. So much so, in fact, that when I tell others even a fraction of the things I've done, gotten myself into or endured, they wonder how I'm still here. It began to occur to me that maybe there's a story in all those experiences. Who else has been neglected, sexually abused, robbed at gunpoint and burgled, all while not being able to fit in at school, work or at home because of an diagnosed spectrum disorder? Me, that's who!

Through it all, art, first drawing, then painting, got me through. I somehow persevered and managed to come out okay.

As I wrote, recalling the people, events and places that shaped my life, I realized that what I really had on my hands was a story of hope, a testament to the fact that anyone really can overcome the tough stuff with a little strength and determination, and really isn't that what the world needs now, more hope?Buy This Damn Book!: Memoir of An Aspie ArtistBuy This Damn Book!: Memoir of An Aspie Artist