FLYING: When I was about 8 or 9 years old I had a dream that I could fly if I flapped my arms and jumped off the top of a rubbish tip. I told an older boy who didn't quite get what I was talking about and showed me the motor of a model aeroplane that he'd got bolted down to a bench. He went on about its technical details. I was disappointed because I meant real flying, not that nerdy substitute for it that he was into. I was also very disappointed when I woke and found I couldn't fly after all.
In a way, the other boy represented the nerdy side of ASD, while I represented something rather more artistic and beautiful. I didn't know about ASD in those days.