Never the studious young boy, I spent most of my class time drawing sketches in the pages of my notebooks. Santa Anna, raising his sword in the battle for the Alamo buried deep within my notebook jumped out and attacked my father one evening while he help me with my homework. He counter attacked by hurling, “you will never be anything doing stuff like this”, and I believed him.
In school I loved art class, excelled and looked forward to it but never believed that I could be something there. When I went to college I focused on art and graduated near the top of my class with a BFA, and still believed that I would never be anything. After all, all I needed was a degree. With diploma in hand I entered the professional world with the ambition to climb the corporate ladder. Climb and climb to be something. Reaching to be something, I fall on art as therapy for the stress and anxiety that being something brings. Now I am something and nothing at the same time because I don’t believe any more.
And now I want to be something else. It is here in this ambition to be something else that I produce my work. It is my peace, refuge, and true self, my destiny.