Art has always come naturally to me. When I was three my family moved from Miami to New Jersey while waiting for our house, we shacked up in some Manhattan hotel. My first artistic memory is seeing a small painted character on every New York City corner. Later I found out it was Keith Haring. In Fourth grade, I was one of two chosen to meet every Friday afternoon for two hours of artistic freedom and personal lessons by my art teacher. Seventh grade came and was accompanied by my two new best friends: good times and classic rock & roll. Immediately I began guitar lessons.
Ninth Grade consisted of me starting a punk rock band that jammed in my garage. My senior year I managed to get off in the afternoons to work as a market research recruiter. It was way too easy for me. In my first hour, I would get four leads. I would turn one in every hour, and spend the remainder of my time drawing pictures out of the magazine I had snuck to my desk.
My mother eventually saw my drawings and challenged me to draw houses from pictures she gave me. In New Jersey, when a realtor sells a house, the buyer receives a framed hand drawn picture of it, as a gift. When I found out it paid two hundred dollars a picture, I quit my marketing job instantly. I was getting a 200% increase in pay, and I could do it in the comfort of my sunny backyard. For the first time I saw money mixed with my talent. While playing rock and roll as my goal, I majored in studio arts at the Florida State University. After years of frustration pursuing music, I had an epiphany New Years Eve, 2004. I realized that if I did not make it as a musician, all of my energy and effort would be forgotten. But my art will out live me, giving me chances even after I die. That is when art became my life.
I have always been a vivid dreamer. I have developed a skill that I will try to put into words. As I close my eyes, every night I relive the same dream. Long halls filled with paintings on both sides, in every color, shape, and size. At first, I would wake up with a feeling of jealousy, like what I saw was exactly where I was going. A warm wave of understanding washed over me as I realized everything I saw was mine to come. Best part, I remember everything I dreamt about. To this day, this process is the source of my inspiration and it keeps getting stronger.
On the back of most of my paintings I write either a journal entry or a poem. I have developed a system to put that entry on the front, in color. I call it – the color code. Like a map, in order to understand what`s going on you need the key. The color code acts as the “key“ to the painting. There are 26 dots in 26 different colors representing A thru Z in the alphabet. This is usually located by my signature in a square formation. Look in the painting for the dots, this is my message. Just match the colored dot with the color in the “key“ and you can decipher my message. As far as I know, this has never been done before.
Ninth Grade consisted of me starting a punk rock band that jammed in my garage. My senior year I managed to get off in the afternoons to work as a market research recruiter. It was way too easy for me. In my first hour, I would get four leads. I would turn one in every hour, and spend the remainder of my time drawing pictures out of the magazine I had snuck to my desk.
My mother eventually saw my drawings and challenged me to draw houses from pictures she gave me. In New Jersey, when a realtor sells a house, the buyer receives a framed hand drawn picture of it, as a gift. When I found out it paid two hundred dollars a picture, I quit my marketing job instantly. I was getting a 200% increase in pay, and I could do it in the comfort of my sunny backyard. For the first time I saw money mixed with my talent. While playing rock and roll as my goal, I majored in studio arts at the Florida State University. After years of frustration pursuing music, I had an epiphany New Years Eve, 2004. I realized that if I did not make it as a musician, all of my energy and effort would be forgotten. But my art will out live me, giving me chances even after I die. That is when art became my life.
I have always been a vivid dreamer. I have developed a skill that I will try to put into words. As I close my eyes, every night I relive the same dream. Long halls filled with paintings on both sides, in every color, shape, and size. At first, I would wake up with a feeling of jealousy, like what I saw was exactly where I was going. A warm wave of understanding washed over me as I realized everything I saw was mine to come. Best part, I remember everything I dreamt about. To this day, this process is the source of my inspiration and it keeps getting stronger.
On the back of most of my paintings I write either a journal entry or a poem. I have developed a system to put that entry on the front, in color. I call it – the color code. Like a map, in order to understand what`s going on you need the key. The color code acts as the “key“ to the painting. There are 26 dots in 26 different colors representing A thru Z in the alphabet. This is usually located by my signature in a square formation. Look in the painting for the dots, this is my message. Just match the colored dot with the color in the “key“ and you can decipher my message. As far as I know, this has never been done before.