My Classic Life as an Artist:
A Portrait of Larry Bissonnette

Narration script 9/30/2004

It’s significant that my artistic style lets me express personal perspectives of autistic but intelligent old Vermonter.

I have written words about my art, my autism, and my life which another person skilled reading texts will narrate.

Sonic sensitivity, placidity in personal relationships, loose personal hygiene, language processing problems, primitive, plastic social skills, kooky behaviors, activities limited by obsessive routines, gastronomical choices stuck on McDonalds, rote learning habits: this is a summary of autism’s daily impact on my life.

The proudest opportunity I ever had to tell others that I was intelligent was with outsider communication technique, facilitated communication. Motoring this new vehicle began in pristined with outside natural scenery, Vermont almost ten years ago.

Facilitated Communication lands basis for neurological collection of spatial awareness. Ladle of doing language meaningfully is lost in soup of disabled map of autism so I need a potholder of touch to grab it.

Echolalic language comes down my pipes like a pre programmed train that is way off its itinerary.

If there is some pressing problem in my life like supper being two minutes late my speech works really well. Stereotypical phrases, poorly articulated in a loud, phenomenally loud, grating on nerves, voice isn't deliberate communication but only patterned behavior. I rely on typing for my personally important ideas. I probably wouldn't order pizza by typing my words but I would tell you my opinion about the poor working stiff who makes it.

It’s ever so easy to paper walls with ambitious words but the real difference in clearing my needs has been the wonderful, caring, less worried about Larry’s peculiarities and more attuned to my potential, people who support me everyday.

Michael is Larry’s persuader to do great art even when creativity is clashing with serious autistic stubbornness.

My sister Sally is my personally closest in age family member. She eases me into social situations, answers my repetitive questioning with patience and openness, is about realistic hopes and is not afraid to lecture me when I am acting obnoxiously.

Nasty residential better for growing vegetables rather than people, Brandon Training School.

No one should limit learning of truth in life to closed rooms occupied only by people with no natural means to communicate.

Going back in desolation where it’s only me and letterless walls is not pleasant to think about. Nothing “apartheids” you like the insensitive world of institutional existence.

Tapping well of silence with painting permitted songs of hurt to be meted with creativity.

Leaving institutional life for family life mobilized my ascent into the land of people living regular lives and let me open up my art making to more lucrative ways.

I began painting keeping busy as powerless to communicate young child.

Starting a painting is like laying down layers of paint on the walls of the house. Paints you want to use only as background are set down. Gradually, lines and shapes are added like roads for cars to find the ways to a person's destination when they are on vacation in a foreign country.

Would love to see stars realized as large lights in the sky. Painting them like that lets me elevate them to their artistic potential.

Practically, doing art relieves overload by providing outlet for stress.

Not allowing people with disabilities their patterns of inspiring art through total freedom of expression is like limiting creativity with censorship.

Without art, wafting smell of earth’s pleasures would kite away to land of inanimate objects so it’s past point of personal hobby.

Naming the painting- Classic landscape of Lake Champlain area in cleaner air than New York, Vermont.

Seeing work done isn’t totally satisfying because I’m rigged for process and not completion.

Talking about the drawing--Larry prepared how he drew this image not thinking about anything in artistic memory but just letting my hands go more instinctively on the paper than premeditating every stroke.

Palatial, with work sorted by size, studio space is also needed to let me do art in comfortable surroundings like a librarian putting books away in a lofty ceilinged, well lit, tall shelved, frescoed, round room.

Lore around autism uses situations of incompetence to predict what little potential people have to learn creative and artistic skills. Like leading articles in magazines looking at populations of people with disabilities, my aesthetically questionable but not bad to argue work is the best way to clear up mysteries of what I am about. This is my reputation with people that know me.

All of my paintings require wooden frames which are put together like ordered, partly prepared salads, created assembly line fashion in gourmet food stores ending up elegantly presented at art show openings. I preach precision when lassoing wood pieces together. Without exactitude, orderliness of the finished frames would suffer.

Little polaroids are like toppings on artistically loaded up without falling over ice cream sundaes. People differ in their acceptance of point blank range approach to taking pictures. Totally raptured faces are not what you often see. Likenesses of seriously petrified by flashbulbs people is more what you see positioned randomly on the painting.

Role of art is to prepare thoughts visually in ways that language clearly can’t articulate.

People pick out my looking at polished with pleasing to the eye photos, art books as learning to appreciate great art. I am really waiting to get lunch at the new age-like cafe in the bookstore.

Fastening labels on people is like leasing cars with destinations determined beforehand

Mostly, it’s good practices in educating unconventional people eccentric on the outside but normal on the inside that lops off weak branches of disability and promotes possibilities for new growth.

My muralistic lettered view of life is stimulated not by likenesses of reality but by intuitions of plentiful feelings and sensations.

Clenched repression of autistics by society uses plight to fuel rolling of pent-up impulses into vivid portraits of life’s injustices.

Knowledge and learning of art have allowed my abilities to soar out on an airfield occupied by people who don’t have disabilities.

Hopeful about my knowing personal growth. It makes noteworthy my life.

END