So, a long time ago, I realized that I had this side to me that many people have when they’re kids, but they don’t ever bother to develop it. I had a love for music. When I was a little kid I had this Muppet Babies piano, probably about a foot and a half long, maybe less. It was this sea-green with a built-in handle that made it easy to carry around. Above the keys there were multiple buttons that held beats to play tunes to and changed the sounds that came out of the little thing. It was cool. Kermit sat on a rainbow or a cloud or something like that at the top.
The legend goes as follows: When I would hear a tune, melody or song, I sat there and tried to figure out how to play it. I hummed it and played until I got it. I know, I know, it’s not much of a myth or legend or anything of the sort, but hell, I expanded on it.
In grammar school, I drew and sketched a lot and I never had an actual art class in my life. I had crayons and markers all the time and always created something new. Besides that, I was a natural writer. I have a diary from Kindergarten that I used to write in. During my junior high years, it developed into journals and eventually into poetry. I also played the flute, starting off with lessons when I was 10 that stayed with me until senior year of high school. I still play, but it’s nothing great.
I developed my experience a little with Gallery 37, the summer of 2000, where I practiced the skill of paper arts. Everything was made of paper. We made books, made paper, made containers. I used that skill to make a book of my own where I keep a lot of what I’ve written over the years.
I eventually took up photography in college and now I love carrying my cameras around, either still shot or my Flip video recorder. I still paint. I still write. I shoot. I play music. I am art.