I just watched a beautiful video on Netflix about a painter who's autistic.
His paintings have sold so successfully in New York galleries that his older brother asks him if he'd like to change his life and paint more and make even more money. No, he says, he wants to keep living life exactly as he's living it. He loves his life "just like it is, I really do."
The film-maker--his older brother--dedicates the film to their mother "who never stopped believing." Instead of institutionalizing her baby (as she was advised to do), she did the only thing she could do: "bombarded him with love."
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