Mr. Cellophane

In the musical Chicago the husband of the murderess-on-trial sings a song called "Mr. Cellophane", the man that everybody looks through but never sees. A cellophane man, whom everyone looks right through as if he wasn't there. As a mature "Aspy", I appreciate the sentiment.

When you run your own business, you've got to be rather blunt with yourself about your up and down sides vis a vis the business at hand. Mine is a people business, where the clients MUST be able to relax with me to allow me to do that which I so definitely can do for them but only if allowed to by that client at that moment. It's a "permission" thing. To show your heart and soul to a stranger is difficult for most of us at any time. But as a portrait photographer ... I'm not only a "stranger" to the clients at a first session, I'm pointing a camera at them while asking them to show me their heart!
 
The portrait biz is based on three things: 1) the technical knowledge of your medium (camera, brush, whatever ...), 2) the knowledge of art concepts that have been deeply absorbed into the back-waters of your brain, and 3) the ability to get the right, most appropriate and most fascinating expression/pose from your client in that narrow moment that your abilities in parts one and two above have created. One and two must simply flow from the artist as nearly as possible without conscious effort, in order to allow both the artist and subject to concentrate on three.

The third one flows from the relationship in that moment between the subject and the artist, and the willingness of the subject to bare their heart and soul. "Permission to look deeply into the soul", as it's been called so many times by so many people ... that's an incredibly personal thing to ask of someone. It calls for an amazing level of trust. It's not easy for anyone to do. It even has taken a lot of work for me to trust another photographer, no matter how well I know them. I appreciate the ... hesitation ... concern ... fears ... of any client.

And as someone on that Aspergers/Autism "spectrum", it can be difficult for me to achieve that level of trust with someone who doesn't know me well. Yet I've managed it so many times, with wondrous images as the result. And there have been many times that I've been able to create worthwhile images that the client does enjoy, but based on my mastery of parts one and two above, and the agility with which I've learned to work around the occasional difficulties with part three.

After all, I am a professional at this, not an amateur. I will get at least several darn good images. Period.

But Aspy/NT rules do apply. I know, that for my friends with (for example) boats ... when they think up who they want to spend a day with out on their boat, I'm not gonna be on the top of the list. Not because they don't like to be around me in other circumstances ... but ... I'm just not gonna be the one they think of for light casual fun. And, even when I've done amazing portraits with a client, they won't automatically think of wanting to use my services for their next portrait need either.

It's not because my friends or clients dislike me, or don't appreciate my skills and abilities. The problem is not negative personal connotations. It's not even a conscious choice on their part. It's in the nature of my being Aspy and their being N/T. That odd intermingling of brain capabilities and natures between N/T's and Aspys.

I'm good enough at my relations with most Neuro-typicals (N/T's, or "normal" people) that I've managed to become a "neutral" presence emotionally. Neither warm-fuzzy nor rasty nasty. It's taken years of hard work, but at least, far fewer find me the mildly irritant presence than used to do so.

But as a "neutral" presence, I'm neither on the list of folks they really really want to spend time with or the list of people they want to avoid. I'm not going to make any list at all with most people. Essentially, it's like Amos (heart-breakingly played by John C. Reilly in the movie) singing about being Mr. Cellophane.

I've been "in the biz" for nearing 40 years now. Time was, a photographer sold his/her value based on their experience, demonstration of photographic excellence through both images and professional awards, and the surety of running a solid, reliable business. That's not this time. Years of experience are not of interest to most potential clients. "Everybody" seems to be able to have pretty pics on their website, whether or not they can do that repeatedly or without needing  500 "shots" per client to get two or three decent ones. And realistically, "good enough" is a LOT lower bar than it used to be.

And as to experience ... do you realize how few people actually think about whether a portrait photographer even KNOWS how to run a business these days? That is certainly not a "decisionable" factor for most potential clients.

In these days, in this time ... it's all about how people feel about the photographer. Or, if they've not worked with her/him before, how they think they'll feel about working with him/her based on websites, social media, and comments by others that may have some experience with that photographer ... or may simply have looked at a website once. Of a different photographer.

For an Aspy portraitist, it's a really, really difficult time to make a living. When you're good enough in personal relations with most N/T's to become a neutral presence (rather than an irritant) you're doing well as an Aspy, yet you've disappeared as a person. Quite an interesting challenge to overcome.

Cellophane,  Mister ... Cellophane ...

Special Damnations

Unless I've got a special reason ... either desperate need to be part of a decision or that rarest of gifts, an NT who actually groks me and has learned to trust what my brain can do ... I need to behave as a highly sanitized caricature of an NT. That's simply a fact of life for anyone on the Autism/Asperger's spectrum who wants to be accepted into polite conversations with most of the people of the world. And most importantly, my highest, best capability needs to stay completely buried. My greatest gift is actually, in NT company, my biggest damnation.

My main Aspy "gift" is that my brain has the natural ability to store billions of data-bits, many for years ... and then seemingly "immediately" connect several of them with things I've just heard, read, or seen to come up with a new thought or insight. It's called analysis, of course, but I can do it to an extent that is well past most people. And I do mean well past most people.

 As both John Elder Robison and Temple Grandin point out, many of us (though not all) that live on the "Spectrum" have special ... abilities. Call them talents, gifts, whatever. Between perhaps greater simple brain ability (in specialized areas) and the ability to focus both tighter and longer than Neuro-Typical or "NT" people, we can take thoughts and ideas farther and faster than our normal peers. But it is that very ability to go farther and faster ... often blindingly faster ... that we tend to be seen as pariahs or (benevolently) ... simply "weird".

Openly displaying or using such un-seeable talents  is not acceptable within NT universe, unless they've already given you some sort of accredited "degree" for such a thing. Ok, a physics professor (fully "Doctorated" and tenured) can go on about physics, sure. But outside that, you've got to explain to them how your brain works and they've got to be able understand the explanation, so that they can actually decide to pay attention to you. If you can't accomplish both in 20 words or less, save your breath and their patience and goodwill. And that is the rub ... we use language so differently that the chances of my being able to achieve both parts of the previous sentence (with the average NT) are the same as the proverbial snowflake's chance of surviving in Hell.

One needs to be trusted first to qualify as an acceptable "expert", and as my brain works (and I appear) ... weird ... I ain't NEVER gonna get that trust.  I will not be able to make my unique capability understood, nor therefore will what I say be trusted. And so using my analytical capability ... even in the most restricted and totally OBVIOUS simple little way (to me) ... makes everything else  I say untrustworthy, of suspicious origin, and ... unbelievable. And going back to the way I cannot see, "read", and naturally respond to and with the little physical things that NT's do in "normal" conversation, it simply is hard proof to so many people that I'm generally not trustworthy. Not made of good, solid intellectual or character material. Pleasant enough perhaps to be around ... but never trustworthy.

 Oh yes, I see the wall all the time. Though the NT's around me don't, I do ... it's ... there. Those expressions follow me everywhere I go. The lack of trust, the complete inability to take me or my words seriously (no matter how politely folks may appear) are always, ever there.

To the few NT's who have learned enough of me to give me that trust, to listen to me, and to value my abilities ... you mean the world to me! But of the thousands of NT's I've been around and worked with in my 59 years, that would be ... oh, I think we're maybe up to double digits. That's not double-digits "currently" ... that's double digits over the entire 59 years.

Well, "they" do say it's lonely at the top, don't they?

The Invisible Wall

In the Star Trek "multiverse", there's a material called "transparent aluminum". It's a metallic substance used as sheets to build things ... and it's as transparent as good-quality glass. Strength per  thickness of material a little above steel, weight far below, and of course ... transparent. So it's used for things like spaceship view-ports and "windows" and panoramic windows on space stations. Even (in ST-IV, "The Voyage Home") used to make an aquarium on a Klingon "Bird of Prey" starship to time-transport full-sized humpback whales to the future, in easily the funniest ST-Multiverse movie. (Look up "multiverse" if you need to ... )

I'm very familiar with the stuff ... "transparent aluminum", that is. It surrounds me. It's always there. It's that brain hard-wiring that I as an Aspy (Asperger's person) have that separates me forever from the ways "normals" (in physcho-speak, "Neuro-Typicals") think, speak, and react to others around them. Even, really, from most other Aspy's too. I "touch" (and therefore see) that wall so very clearly, having ALWAYS been on the outside of things. And over the last few years, having learned what (and a lot of why) those differences are, I even know the nature of the wall. And why it is permanent.

 Those on the other side don't see the wall at all. It's very transparency (from their side) convinces them that it doesn't, that it cannot exist. To them, it's not that there is a wall: I just don't behave as they expect, I say things they aren't expecting, or that are simply incomprehensible. The attitude and the belief on the other side of the wall is that there's no "real" differences between us, the problem is that I just don't behave like I "should". It's my ... fault? I need to just behave "more appropriately". I don't know how many times I've been told "We ALL have to learn how to behave ... you're no different, just watch and learn! You're plenty bright enough to do this ... everybody does!" The sometimes unspoken (but always present) thought is "unless you're a stupid insensitive dolt like you".

My most well-meaning friends and family have constantly told me the above, normally without rancor. And um ... others ... have told me the above with great malice aforethought. I appreciate the polite concerns expressed by friends, but in the end ... the communication is the same. But my brain is different, so the conclusion that so many "NT's" insist on, that I could learn to be like them, is fallacious. Not that it helps me at all ... going around telling people they are believing and acting on a fallacious premise is not the way to win friends and influence people. If there's a 'way out', I haven't found it yet. Neither attempting to correct the NT's appreciation of my differences nor simply allowing them to think ill of me has any positive effect. Except in rare instances.

So I remind myself that the ignorance here is not mine ... it's their's. Their hard-wiring "sees" things and inter-relates them in ways mine doesn't. In ways mine cannot. No matter how hard I try. I can work (and have) at understanding the many and constantly-varying patterns of NT  conversations. Theoretically. But lacking the hard-wiring to even notice so many of the small but vitally important signs they pass back and forth, I can't participate as an NT in a real-live conversation. I can't "pass".

But there's a lot more of them than of "us".  And really, most other Aspy's drive me nuts just the way we all do to NT's.  So it's their world, and it's "them" I want desperately to get along with. To be friends with. To communicate with. To have real, deep friends with, and to feel like somehow, someway, I belong in the wider world as a recognized, real, and valuable person.

But as an Aspy in an NT world, the best I can do is to try and be less "obvious", less "obnoxious", less "self-centered" ... less me. And as I cannot possible predict how different NT's are going to react to anything I say, the most assured way to be less Aspy is just to be quiet. To say very little. I fail at this all quite a bit of the time. And when I do, there's always the signs of failure ... the grimaces, the side-ways glances, the closed or rolled eyes, so many things that are so obvious even I can see them, that I've screwed up again. Ah yes, just hammered into The Wall again ... and it hurts every time.

Many of my Aspy/Spectrum peers are to a larger extent than I unaware of the reactions of NT peers. They may notice them, but aren't necessarily noticing it as constantly as I do. And John Elder Robison, Temple Grandin, and many others have said they wouldn't trade their special abilities for being an NT anyway ... they so love their gifts they'll take them and the pain of separation from the rest of humanity. My "gift" so relies on my being accepted by others to be of any use that the very unacceptability of my Aspy-ness seems to keep me from using my gift for anything but a child's toy.

The very "dry" professions where I perhaps could have found "usefulness" hold no emotional attraction for me. It's a very odd thing ... I'm too tightly-focused brainy-dweebish for the general population, and too emotional for the encyclopedic life. That's me alright ... and at times I laugh, at times I cry ... and I hug my one still-at-home kid or my wonderful (but sigh ... very NT wife) wife and we always just go on. It's what humans do, all of us ...

How do we become ourselves?

Apparently, a great deal of hitting our 50's is about becoming truly ourselves. Up until then, we are so busy with doing things and charging forward, we don't really stop to wonder what's next until then. Any kids that we've "lived" for, looked after, and built our lives around head off on their own ... and leave us with more time spent by and on ourselves. But even if we don't have children, we've still been doing the hard-charging thing. Somehow, we start to ponder this vacant space in our life of routines.

And then, this new thought starts lying around the corners of the mind: I'm not (somehow) who and what I have thought of myself as ... what's wrong with me or my life? Soon it is joined by thoughts about why the work we've felt so important isn't as far along or as important as we'd hoped it would be by now. Or even if it is, why it is suddenly lacking the call to drive our hearts anymore, as past accomplishments lose much of their importance. What has been important, judged by what we've spent our hearts and time on, steadily loses luster. The rules and expectations of others that we've accepted and lived by seem to make less sense.

The judgments that we've placed upon ourselves, for whatever reason, chafe and bind and seem to hurt our hearts and souls. How could we have lived this long and have done so little, become so ... little. We look at others and see substance, and inside and see emptiness.

It's all part of life, from all I can see it's almost a programming thing built in to human existence. And it is, in reality, wonderfully useful! It's how we finally come to grips with our own selves, and get to like and even ... enjoy being ourselves! Not that it is a fun process, mind you, but the end result is so worth the difficulties of the journey.

It's also a time for coming to grips with our parents, and even their parents. As I've talked of these things with others, it is interesting how many had wonderful grandparents who, they now realize, were a much nicer as a grandparent than as a parent. I think a necessary component of this part of our growth as an adult is to allow our ancestral family members to be human. Flawed. Vastly imperfect. And finally, at peace within our own hearts.

I've come to believe that if we cannot give our ancestral family their own separate places of peace, we cannot find any for our own selves. We cannot forgive our own hearts unless we can set aside the turmoils and troubles of those we have held dear, or perhaps, dearly needed to hold dear but couldn't no matter how hard we tried. Those whose own troubles have troubled us.

There may be things we seem to need to understand about our past and the past of our progenitors ... why is of course, such a large part of our concerns and thoughts. But as we walk along this path, at some point, we need to allow the flawed humans that shaped us their separate peace, laugh with their memories, cry a bit, and from and within it all learn to give our own foibles a place of peace.

And in that place of peace, we find ourselves. Really for the first time, not as we have thought and seemed and hoped and dreamed, but as we are. More potent than we have feared, not as shining as we had hoped, but still, a useful and interestingly very unique human of worth.

A new person, who finds life to be worth the passions needed to live it fully, "just because". Who knows how to laugh, more importantly, what to laugh about, and most importantly, finds their own life a delightful puzzle to solve by the simple and even naive pursuit of it.

It is strange, but that is really the part I think we need to re-acquire, naivety. Not out of inexperience, but from great experience. In fact, the best kind of naivety only comes from great experience! And in that naivety we gain joy, peace, and a rekindled passion for what really interests our hearts in the life of the world around us.

We learn to let go and live.