Since a very young age I've always had a passion for art, whether it be splattered on a canvas, a snap of the lens, or a bunch of words stylishly thrown on to a blank page. Always excelling in these topics, I refuse to settle for a desk job or flipping burgers, when I know there is a world of creativity dying to escape the dark abyss that is my mind. After years of confusion and depression fueled procrastination, I finally made the move and became something I have always wanted to be, (or at least try), a model. Although I do have a lot of fun in front of the camera, I quickly came to terms with the fact that I do not fit in. My looks? Yes. The magic I shoot through the photo to the viewer? Yes. My state of mind, morals, goals? Ha. While I still enjoy my time in front of the camera, I'm attempting a different path. One that has been empty for years, yet yearns my return. The path of writing. During the hurricane in my mind, I have salvaged many opinions, beliefs, epiphanies, and ideas that I would almost call answers, that are hungry to be freed onto paper, and out in the open, where no longer only I can marinate in the beauty of these so called theories unleashed.