It all started when I was still a little kid. I used to draw nonstop, despite the fact that my pics turned out like crap. You know the ones: long stick-straight hair on everyone, everyone wearing skirts, with the legs on the two opposite sides of the skirts instead of in the middle. In short, they didn't look very pretty. I believe my parents still have them somewhere in the back of the closet. I used to watch my grandmother draw the characters from the stories I made up, which were very good in my young eyes, and thought that it would be nice to someday draw them myself. In fact, I loved drawing and sketching so much that I wanted to become a fashion designer. Silly me.

Then my life was drastically altered in the form of school. That's when my love for drawing and art was transformed into passionate hate. I hated the wax crayons we had to use. I hated shaping clay into cherries and pretzels and taking it apart again. I hated the colorful pieces of paper that we had to collage together. And, most of all, I hated the teacher calling us "little pieces of shit." Us, the students! I no longer drew at home, though the same teacher was quite pleased with my watercolor of Cardinal Richelieu, d'Artagnan, and Lady Winter from my all-time favorite book. I no longer rushed home to illustrate another scene from my stories. My interest in art was corrupted for years.

Next came middle school. Art was a required part of the curriculum, and I hated every minute of it. Most of all, strange as it seems now, I hated crosshatching. Yes, the same crosshatching which I so adore now. O_o;;; True, I got A's on all the projects that we did, but I really didn't enjoy them as some other people seemed to. And, all the while, I was told that I was very talented, the comments which I fervently rebutted. Little did I know.

The Rebirth.

The turning point came in eighth grade. Sometime in November or December I caught a glimpse of a show on Cartoon Network entitled the Ronin Warriors. It was the second episode, I believe, where Sage and Rowen were talking in an alley. I was strangely intrigued by Sage's hair, which completely covered the right eye, and a storyline started to form in my mind. Out of sheer boredom I tried drawing Sage (and might I add that in the storyline he was the bad guy -- wow, was I ever wrong!), and attempt that turned out to be a total fiasco. Nevertheless, I liked the feeling of drawing what I wanted. That was my first step to rediscovering art for myself.

At the same time, I was taking a math class at a local high school. I was in the same class with Vicky, a freshman with a passion for anime. She often had anime-related things with her, and, after seeing that fateful episode of RW, I related them to the Ronin Warriors -- the drawing styles were similar and all. I also knew that she had an equally anime addicted friend named Chenya, who was widely known for her artistic skills. I saw some of her anime drawings and went, "AWWW!!! How cute!" She encouraged me to give anime drawing a try, and so I started recording BSSM episodes (which I started watching shortly after seeing RW) and sketching the characters from them. I even went as far as buying two BSSM manga volumes for drawing reference. To make a long story short, I was addicted to anime, drawing, and, at the same time, the Internet (yup, the three went hand in hand for me). I searched for drawing tutorials online, and, to be honest, they taught me a lot (the Internet is truly a wonderful thing). I was in love with drawing once again.

The Neverending Journey.

At around the same time in eighth grade we were supposed to sign up for freshman classes at that very same high school I was attending. I realized that before I could draw anime well, I had to draw real life well. Therefore, I signed up for a drawing and design class...and for my sophomore year, a more advanced drawing class...and for art seminar next year...And so the journey continues...