Ever since I was a child, I've found magic in places others overlook - in shadows, in the middle of the street, in that flicker at the corner of your eye, and in all the places the world forgot to look..
The Story of the Lair
ART - the anchor woven in my first memories.
And Life - fast, loud and unforgiving .
Somewhere along the way I traded art for logic and facts.
For a time I forgot the art - forgot the magic.
But magic never forgot about me.
In every bang, in every boom, through the losses and the wins -
it kept steeping into my bones.
I met people who felt like walking spells.
I tore open doorways to worlds beyond the known horizon. I build castles from dust and dreams, and with my tongue I painted skies..
And then I lost it all again.
But even in this modern, minimalistic world, a tiny spark refused to die.
And here I am, in my mid-thirties carving my own path through a world in black and white.
In this lair I chose color again.
I choose to wander.
I choose to make mistakes and try again.
And if you found your way here, perhaps a part of you is searching for your magic too.