After watching a little Brit film called Cashback and sharing the sentiments of the story’s young protagonist brief experience in art school, it reminded me of what I use to love to do. I began drawing when I was around six and the idea of being an animator for Disney had been regularly fed to my psyche. I only cared to draw and master the line and form throughout high school, aiming to that goal. After five years of art school and experiencing the pretentious, political and bureaucratic mentality within, I became jaded with it all. I didn’t draw anything for five years. I immersed myself in photography. But it just wasn’t the same. I missed it. I missed life drawing. It wasn’t until I moved to California and became a toy designer that I picked up the graphite again. I jumped directly into drawing from memory and imagination after having left it all behind. I’ve realized tonight how much I miss drawing. It’s been a struggle to maintain the drive…

Regardless, I’m still a hopelessly romantic artist. Perhaps, sometimes it just takes a beautiful muse.