My art has become a therapeutic means to heal myself. My life has been full of tribulations; I look at them as initiations. For every hardship I endured, my art has grown with me. My father went to prison, when I was seven, for attempted murder. Although losing my dad was rough, him giving me two books, one on history and one on art, started my infatuation with both, and they served as a means of connection with my pops. Similarly, art was a bastion of light after I returned from Iraq and it helped me deal with my guilt about the war. I find that making brings a sense of stillness, allowing me to navigate this tumultuous, unpredictable world with an ally by my side.