I’ve spent my whole life wondering if being different (in the way that I’m different) was ok. It’s all good and fine to say being different is good, as if it were the easiest thing in the world to conclude. Honestly, looking back on myself and who I’ve been, I feel embarrassed… looking at art I’ve done in the past, I feel the same way… but that embarrassment has become something I almost embrace… I kind of love it for that. There’s always been this pull towards art that I’ve found almost impossible to articulate. All my emotions, all the anger, fear, love, etc. seemed to dominate my day-to-day life, leading me to a safe place, which is art. It amazes me every day that I’ve been able to sell art, knowing just where it comes from… some lost little kid who figured no one would understand… found some people that might just know what I’m talking about.