There was not a lot of things to do or sites to see where I grew up. So I turned inwards, towards worlds that don’t exist. Not to mention both my parents were into fantasy, movies, comic books, video games etc. I was raised by pop culture references, Star Wars every Friday, and Halo LAN parties every Saturday. To say my obsessions are generational is not an exaggeration.

My father also played a huge role in my involvement in art. As an artist himself, he would take my brother and I into his office; a space filled with massive printers and desks of computers. I didn’t know it at the time, but the program he mainly worked on was Rhinoceros 3D, a program that I use now in my CAD adventures. I used to sit in the huge leather chair by the window and doodle on a pad of paper he stapled together for me as a pseudo-sketchbook.

He passed away when I was nine, before my art style had even developed. His art became a lost treasure trove that I would only discover again years later. But within that blank period was the start, the real start, of when I began to take art seriously. When my style took form all on its own. And when I got good enough, showed my drawings of monsters and dragons to my mother she would look at me with surprise and ask “Oh, did you find your dad’s old sketchbook?”

As if I had him there, where my pencil hit the page.

It was never intentional, it’s just who I am.