Some days it's hard to know what to do. I didn't always know I wanted to be an illustrator but that was where life was taking me. I have always drawn since before I was aware that's what it was. The family joke is that my father had to paint my bedroom every year due to my muralist tendencies.
It has always been a part of my existence to the point I don't know where I end and the art begins. It's been part of my greatest triumphs and a few of my worst disappointments but I have always, always found it a safe place to unload my mind.
Like so many artists, I went through a period where I thought I needed to get a "real" job. I chose Aerospace Engineering on the mistaken idea that I would be able to draw spaceships all day. Right, aeroSPACE?
The first semester of engineering courses had me rethinking my whole existence. Calculating drag coefficients over an airfoil was not what I had in mind for the future.
San Diego State University art building.... Bigger than I remember. (Google street view)
The second semester I didn't take any engineering courses and just concentrated on university required classes to give myself time to think.
Coincidentally, the engineering building was also near the art building and during one of my existential crisis walks, I wandered past it.
The art building was tucked at the back of the school perched precariously overlooking interstate 8. I once watched a coast guard helicopter fly up the canyon at my eye level.
In this hidden oasis, purple hair, tattoos, and piercings seemed to be everywhere and for the first time it occurred to me I might find better success there.
I turned in the paperwork and joined the illustration department the following semester.
TO BE CONTINUED....
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