Neuroqueering Book of Love
Deliquescent Beings arrived like a quiet permission slip for my ADHD mind as an artist—curated with fierce tenderness by Laurie Green and filled with the raw, embodied work of ten neuroqueering creators, including my own contributions. This isn't a tidy manual or a set of rules; it's a sensuous tangle of text, image, and affect that refuses to pin love down, instead inviting you to question it more deeply, to let certainties dissolve.
For someone whose thoughts scatter like sparks and whose practice has always wrestled with normative structures that never quite fit, the book feels profoundly validating: it celebrates the beauty of poking holes in rigid boats, of choosing fluidity and decomposition over fixed forms.
Holding it, scribbling in its margins, or simply letting it sit on my shelf reminds me that my divergent wiring isn't a flaw to fix—it's the very engine of this kind of loving, boundary-dissolving creativity. In a world that often demands linear outputs and clear explanations, Deliquescent Beings affirms that neuroqueer making can be messy, intimate, uncertain, and still radiant with power. It's become a touchstone for me, proof that love—in art, in self, in community—thrives most when we stop trying to contain it.
Process
The process was wonderful—a gentle unleashing, the first time I truly allowed myself to create something sensual and go wild, always in an elegant way, as swirling creatures entangled and intertwined across the page or canvas, limbs and forms dissolving into one another like living vines in quiet ecstasy. In that surrender, I felt the erotic awaken not as chaos but as profound creative power, echoing Audre Lorde's insight that "the erotic is a resource within each of us that lies in a deeply female and spiritual plane, firmly rooted in the power of our unexpressed or unrecognized feeling." For so long, my ADHD-driven mind had raced around restraint, fearing the mess of desire; yet here, in this elegant wildness, I reclaimed my body as the site of invention, letting it speak through fluid lines and tender collisions. Hélène Cixous whispers the permission I finally heard: "Write yourself. Your body must be heard," urging that to censor the sensual is to silence breath, speech, and art itself. In those moments of abandon—elegant, yes, but untamed—I touched the wild woman within, the one Clarissa Pinkola Estés describes as bursting forth when we honor our heat as "a state of intense sensory awareness that includes, but is not limited to, her sexuality." This creation became my liberation: proof that sensuality and wildness, when met with grace, weave something radiant, alive, and wholly mine.
Final Book Cover
Deliquescent Beings is a book saturated with love—made from love, about love. It refuses to be a guide. You may finish it knowing less about love than when you began. That uncertainty is the quiet gift of neuroqueering: deliberately letting water seep through the hull.
Ten neuroqueering artists share embodied insight and raw feeling in this tactile mix of text and image. Read it. Mark it. Kiss it. Fuck it. Love it.
Neuroqueering Humans, 2024 Softcover, 116 pp 210 × 147 mm
Artists
Georgia Holman
Ila
Jess Murrain
Laurie Green
Lua Bairstow
Rebecca Jagoe
Rrangwane
Sam Metz
Sef
V Westerman
Copyright Axenia Raulet 2026