I’ve always viewed the world as an art-form. The ways that everything relates. The energy of life that we can’t physically see. It’s beautiful and fleeting and I’m just trying to capture and document as much as possible. But I didn’t always think like this... Sobriety cleared the shit off the path for me to finally put my imagination on paper. I never fit in growing up...never knew how to relate to others. Deep depression ensued. I compensated for the disinterest of human interaction with drugs. Lots of drugs. It made me enjoy the shallow conversations and pointless nights. I could finally tolerate it. But addiction is progressive, so eventually it just backfired and made everything worse. When I got sober in 2018, naturally my brain let out the anxieties and worries I struggled with before I got into the heavy drinking and drugs. I needed a way to cope, but therapy didn’t cut it for me. I needed more depth. Through a deep dive into consciousness and really questioning the point of life...my life...I was attracted to art, in all forms, even more. I began to see everything as art. There’s something that I feel artists understand that others don’t...I don’t feel alone when reading about them and their thoughts. Not saying artists are better, just different.