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Showing posts from June, 2012


Growing up is mind-blowing...especially when you've kept multiple journals and old projects in tact from when you were 6 years old, and then find said memorabilia 17 years later. I suppose that's what makes time capsules so incredible.  But I don't have a time capsule. All I have are boxes and plastic tubs filled with things I don't want to discard. Mom calls me a pack-rat. I am. I like shiny things, and I justify keeping junk around by telling myself I'll definitely need it later...for God knows what.  Eventually, I toss some crap here and there, but one thing I'm glad I kept is the memory of the beginning of my life as an artist.  Even without the physical reminder, I remember it very distinctly - the day I decided I wanted to illustrate constantly. It was 1996, my family was sitting in church on the right side of the building. My dad had bought me a thick, brown planner so he could start to teach me organization in everyday life and also encourage me to ta