LOVE OF BEAUTY IS TASTE. THE CREATION OF BEAUTY IS ART. — RALPH WALDO EMERSON
I suppose it is also worth mentioning that I have had no formal training as an artist, whatsoever. In fact, up until a year ago, I had barely every drawn at all, save for a few pictures here and there as a young child and preteen. In fact, I once signed up for an art class at a local mall, only to be told during the first class that I had no talent and that I should reconsider my interest in art. After that, I would focus my attentions on music, spending several years refining my skills as a competitive flutist.
Eventually, the time would come when I would join the working class within the field of Human Resources, where I would spend almost ten years climbing the corporate ladder on my way to becoming the Human Resources Director of a global human capital management organization. While most people would be satisfied and proud of such an achievement, it didn’t take me long to start questioning whether the field I was in was, in fact, the one I could see myself spending the rest of my life in. I craved color, creativity, excitement, passion, and felt as if my days lacked any real imagination.
All of this would lead me to open my own website and graphic design company back in 2013. I had spent some time dabbling in the field with previous employers that needed someone to develop their online presence. Rather than having them pay exorbitant amounts of money to a professional developer, I seized the opportunity to make a lasting
impression on my superiors by taking it upon myself to learn the basic principles of the trade, and would continue to build on that knowledge over time until what I was left with was an aesthetically pleasing, functional, user friendly business platform by why my employers could conduct their business, and a litany of eventual clients viewing the final product and beginning to inquire as to the designer behind its creation. Before I had even received my articles of incorporation I already had a six-month waiting list and was working tirelessly around the clock to carve out a name for myself within my respective part of the world.
But for all of our efforts, and all of our hard work, our dreams and aspirations, and with all the calculations and planning behind it all, sometimes we just can’t predict life’s terrible curve balls when they come speeding at us out of left field. This was the case for me one year ago, when I was diagnosed with a rare and advanced stage IV soft tissue sarcoma. Given just 6 short months to live, and being told that there was little most hospitals were capable of doing for someone in my situation, I would embark on my mission for hope. My research and inquiries would have me traveling to and speaking with any and every cancer treatment facility on the east coast of the United States. This period of my life would be wrought with incredible fear, anxiety, anger, bitterness, loneliness, frustration, and regret, all of which having no outlet by which I was able to channel and relieve myself of all that negative energy.
In the depths of my despair, amidst such a dark period in my life, I would have a chance encounter with an incredibly talented, brilliant sculptor and amazing human being from Los Angeles, California. In the year leading up to now, we would become very close, and he would become both the key to unlocking the creativity hidden away deep within me, as well as the singular driving force behind the subsequent deluge of art and creativity that would ultimately follow. I had countless questions, a million ideas, and was quickly consumed by all of the inspiration I began to find in everything around me. Amidst what hardest period of my existence, this gentleman and the amazing gift he had given me, would essentially deliver me from the darkness and show a rich new world of limitless imagination and color. From this point on, art would become my reason for living, my purpose, passion, and the very thing that would feed and nourish my mind and soul, and likely being that which has carried me well beyond those six months most thought would be my last.