Updated: Oct 14, 2018
I have always drawn. On. Everything.
Until I discovered paper, I then drew on that.
The sketchbooks have followed me ever since.
Childhood was spent chewing up every playtime to imagination, there were never enough worlds or characters I could ever fit into one day.
That lost its gusto as a 17- year-old-me moved to the other sandbox, Dubai to pursue Illustration. I was fussy about my brush strokes and how irrational ideas needed to be, a character trait I would only develop in the perfect petri dish for the nonsensical: London.
London is one of those cities that curates its people well; it shows you what you need and lets you grow elsewhere. Five years in, every crevice explored a few great lifelong friends and it was time to go.
After Helium highs and sad goodbyes I left London to the warmer corner of the pond, Kuwait. I was so perpetually creative without my London distractions, the white noise and softer pace of life almost allowed my imagination to run.
That was suddenly interrupted by a career in branding.
Which was then followed by a short-lived foray into communication.
By that point I felt that I was placed in the lost and found pile of my life.