When I was as old as there are fingers on one hand, I made dozens of paper planes covering the whole living room floor, and drew thorough designs on them, having pilot windows and all. I carefully filled in the pages of a coloring book as my grandpa pointed out to be more careful and not go over the lines; I assume my attention to detail thrived here. I substituted chalk, using pieces of smashed, white concrete to draw on the pavement by our house. I quickly tried to rinse it with water when my dad got home, as I was not supposed to scrape things on the ground like that, but of course the huge puddle of water I spilled over it, gave me away. I drew endless scribbles during math classes and by the end of the year there were more drawings than numbers in a notebook. I secretly entered an imagined competition against the older kids with more skill in my art school classes to try and do better than them. I used eye-shadow makeup to draw when pencils were not within the reach.

The paper planes are my dreams, the coloring books are my beginning, the pavement and math classes are the quiet rebel in me and the eye-shadow is about finding ways to accomplish things despite the circumstance.

Now I'd just love to draw on things and visually design things for others to look at and enjoy while at it. :)