My father was an amazing chef. Toward the end of the day I would hang out in the kitchen and watch him cook. Sometimes helping him cook by learning to wash the dishes, which isn’t necessarily cooking but doing the dishes are definitely an integral part to working up towards being an assistant chef at the age of six.

One evening when we were waiting on something in the pan to simmer for a while, while we were cooking together, my father sat me down and brought my attention to a sketch pad on the dinning table. He began to sketch characters, first he started to sketch a super heroes exaggerated face features, then the characters muscular body. I was hanging over my dads shoulders trying to get a point of view perspective of what he was sketching. I was impressed and at the time didn’t know you could create with a pencil and paper. That was something very different to me, a form of expression that didn’t involve my tree house or mud.

I got really excited and asked him to continue drawing me these characters. After a little while he stopped and went back to cooking. He gave me that pencil and I began to attempt sketching figures on my own. After seeing him sketch somewhere in my head it clicked and I understood I could illustrate too.

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