My Story: So Far

From the moment I picked up a crayon and made my own Sistine Chapel inside a refrigerator box, art became my hiding place.

 

It was somewhere to escape from the unpleasant parts of the world and express myself in ways that words couldn't. 

Now, as I pursue art as a career, I've had to confront my fear of putting myself and my work out there for the world to see. 

My life choices have taken me from suburban Chicago, to the winding streets of Jerusalem, the four walls of a Beijing prison, and beyond.

I'm sharing my story with you because I believe that our experiences have the power to connect and inspire us. 

I hope that by opening up about my own struggles and triumphs, I can encourage others to pursue their own creative passions. 

Moving forward with art as a career, I've chosen to put myself and my art into a spotlight and asked to be judged on what I create. Its scary, but good.

Slowly, I will come back to this and elaborate on certain events as a way to share with y'all but also as a form of mental health for myself.It’s 

If you care enough to read this I am grateful. Thank you. 

If I can bring something positive to your life with my art or my experiences then I  consider myself successful.

I will begin this story like most.

At the beginning.. 

I got traveling in my blood early on.

My deadbeat fu*k of a birth father was in the US Army so we lived all over the place until I was 5. 

I was born 9 weeks early at Clark Air Force Base in Angeles City, in the Phillippines. 

We lived there, Korea, Germany and at Fort Hood Army Base in Texas. 

We moved to the southwest suburbs of Chicago just before Kindergarten. 

I know that my birth father leaving shortly after arriving home has had some sort of psychological effect on me (I'll figure that out later...) but I try more than anything else to make sure I am never him. 

My mom is my gosh darn hero. 

After trying to make my way through adulting so far without any kids, it has given me a profound respect for what she went through making sure my sister and I turned out the way we did. 

Kindness, empathy, compassion and humor are all qualities I pride myself on and it's all credit to you Momma. Love ya.

Early on in school I was a gifted student. My mom always told me I was really special. 

I loved going to school until 3rd grade, when homework became important.

I always forgot about it because I left it at school, at home, at the babysitters house...something. 

This pattern has followed me my entire life.

I've been battling this for as long as I can remember. 

Socially too. I have so many amazing friends that I've let slip away as the years have gone by.

I know it happens to most but I just wanted to say that if you have been part my journey I love you and appreciate you.

 A majority of the memories I have from my elementary years are surrounding The Chicago Bulls..

 Living in the Chicagoland area during the 90's is one of the many reasons I feel blessed.

 My best friend Richie and I were going to be famous basketball writers. I was really proud of the title of our book “Great NBA”.

 The other half of my childhood revolves around being an Irish dancing brother.

 My sister was a super serious Irish dancer, and with a single mom, that meant I was at every practice and competition surrounded by thousands of girls and women almost every day.

 I think growing up in such an environment shaped this feminist, sort of anti bro, self image that I have.

 I have always embraced a sort of compassionate big dude persona and looked out for those being stepped on.

 Here I want to send out a special shout out to the Campagna and Healy families for everything you all did for us.

 I can look back now and realize how much it really was.

 Always grateful.

 Around 8th grade, my mom met the man that I look up to more than anyone else.

 Tony, My "real" dad.

 So, it was me and my younger sister. Leen, Love ya, Miss you guys.

 Tony was 23 and my mom was 37 when they met.

 I cannot imagine agreeing to raise a 13 and 11 year old... at 23 years old.

 Our life changed quickly.

 we went from like mac and cheese on a special night to eating at a sit down restaurant on a random Wednesday!

 I cannot stress how much of a turning point this was in our lives.

 We moved from Tinley Park to Lockport.

 Not a huge change on the surface but it was a way to reinvent myself.

 I thought I was a badass in 8th grade sharing a cigarette behind the White Hen across from school.

 Once I got to high school I got into this weird middle area.

 I played football but was not very good and most people on the team didn't like me.

 My best friend in the whole world died the day after Christmas my junior year.

 That was such a crushing experience and I will have it with me forever.

 I value people and relationships so much more because of it.

 Soon after high school, my family moved to Cary, NC. North Carolina.

 My second home.

 For college-aged people..Raleigh, North Carolina is a magical place.

 So many universities in a relatively small area makes for such a wonderful mix of people and things to experience.

 This is one of many examples that have showed me change can be a fantastic thing.

 The first half of my twenties was a weird time.

 I stopped going to school quickly after starting and jumped around from job to job.

 I was never passionate about what I was doing and made some questionable choices...

 I worked security at a low quality gentleman’s establishment for a year.

 That was... something.

 I’ll save those stories for my Patreon…

 I delivered appliances around Chicago and northwest Indiana for a couple years and I value that time especially.

 It was 6am - 7 or 8pm and by far the most difficult work I have ever done.

 I have so much respect for the guys who have done that work for their whole adult lives.

 There is a level of commitment there that I cannot even begin to understand.

 At 23 I decided to try school again and this time it stuck.

 I started at Joliet Junior College and actually did well.

 I saw what life was like for me without a degree and decided I was done messing around.

 This time I was serious.

 Shortly after I started school again I met someone who really sent me in a different and incredible direction.

 A north-sider…I know. A Jewish girl from the northern suburbs.

 We didn't work as a couple in the end but I still have so much respect and admiration for her and her group of friends and especially the family.

 You all taught me so much about being kind and thoughtful in your approach to people.

 How to be grateful for everything and truly do your best at whatever you do just for the sake of doing it well.

 At 26 I converted to Judaism because of so many reasons but it was really the first time I connected to religion.

 I especially liked my Rabbi's explanation.

 It's the Golden Rule and the rest is all details.

 After converting, I went and spent a month and a half in Israel.

 I cannot even begin to express how meaningful that experience was.

 The people I went with…I fucking love you all so much.

 You can feel the history there like a kind of humidity in the air or something.

 The warm people who opened their arms and their homes to me as I wandered around the country from couch to couch.

 Stumbling, wine drunk, around the old city in Jerusalem is one of the best memories I will ever have. I sat with a few friends listening to someone explain a Bible verse from three different languages and explaining the little differences caused by each translation…

There were just so many unique and amazing experiences.

 I volunteered for the Israeli military for a couple weeks working in a warehouse packing medical supplies.

 That whole experience and the relationships formed, gave me this high I have been chasing ever since.

 It’s why Applebee's every Wednesday or something like that kind of normality seems like prison to me.

 UIC, University of Illinois at Chicago has this bittersweet feeling for me.

 Getting accepted there is the one goal I have really ever worked my ass off for and achieved.

 Then, it took me 3 years to realize that I would not be happy teaching in the Chicago Public School System.

 I had made myself up to be this hero going to save the youth and it ended up crushing me.

 It is my lowest personal moment because I felt like I could not give what it would take to be successful there.

 Talking to veteran teachers scared the shirt out of me.

 After leaving school, there was this void in front of me. 

For the last 6 years I had known exactly what I wanted to do and then it all came crashing down.

 The next couple years were challenging to say the least.

 I met a girl from New York City and we lived together almost immediately...

 From the beginning it was not the healthiest situation.

 I have nothing bad to say about her as a person.

 The situation we created together was all kinds of messed up but I really do value the experience because I grew so much from this time.

 I learned a lot about my own insecurities and it truly has helped me going forward.

 The ending to that story however, is the beginning of where it really starts to get interesting....

 

I didn’t want to include too much negative in the story but it really helps to illustrate the low point in my life that actually gave me the balls to move to China.

 Days after that ending, I got a message from my Aunt in Florida.

 She knew some people looking for teachers to go to Beijing and work at an international primary school.

 Within a month I had landed at the Beijing airport, alone and terrified.

 I couldn’t get wifi and couldn’t find the person who was supposed to meet me with my name on a sign.

 I thought I made a big mistake.

 After like 15 minutes we finally met up and headed into the city.

 We stopped for a bite on the way from the airport.

 She asked if i like spicy and I said “sure, a little”.

 Holy fuck!

 That is still the spiciest thing I’ve ever eaten.

 She, then added other spicy items and didn’t even react while eating it.

 We went to a couple hotels before finding one that would accept a foreigner.

 I still remember the first night in my hotel listening to the Christ Stapleton album praying I hadn't made a huge mistake.

 The first morning there, I woke up and had a workout in one of these little public parks with some basic equipment like pull up bars and an old guy sleeping on a ping pong table.

 After an awkward, quick workout, I went into a restaurant nearby the hotel and sat down.

 The whole time I was there I felt like a dangerous celebrity.

 People would stare at me with a concerned look on their face.

 I’ve never been around people who are so comfortable with prolonged eye contact.

 I looked through the menu and was clueless.

 Something called Grandma Jelly and other translations that worried me.

 I got up and went back to the hotel with some chocolate milk and some Oreos from a convenient store.

 A little piece of home.

 After a week or so, the school had the lovely idea to put me together in an apartment with a 21 year old blonde girl from California.

 Nothing could possibly go wrong there...

 We agreed it wouldn’t be anything serious and we were just having fun.

 Well that ended up a bad idea.

 After a couple weeks, I was still not sure how I was liking this crazy new world I was living in.

 One Friday, we decided to go out together in the 'western' area Sanlitwar.

 This is one of the most crucial, fork in the road days of my life.

 I could have had a terrible time in Beijing.

 I’ve seen it happen to many people.

 Fortunately, we met this lovely bearded man, named Nick.

 He brought the two of us to meet some friends to go out with them for the evening.

 This is when everything changed for me in China.

 I fell in love with the city that night.

 I met some of my closest friends that night.

 The next week is when it started to get really good.

 We were invited to a friends birthday party at The Local.

 I scrolled in the group chat and saw that there was this really pretty girl who would be there and I thought "wow, but there’s no way..."

 Everyone was sitting on a big front balcony and I recognized a few of the faces from last weekend.

 Then, at the end of the table, there she was.

 She looked even better than the picture and i noticed her smile right away.

 I was going to play it cool when in reality I thought I had no chance.

 After a couple drinks and conversing, that girl over there and I had talked a couple times.

 However, I could tell she was there with a guy and I had someone with me so whatever..

 Then, a big handsome gay man sat down next to me who looked like he had a secret.

 I was a bit hesitant for fear of giving him the wrong idea, but let's see what happens..

 He told me that the beautiful young lady at the end of the table is wondering if you and the blonde girl are together.

 No, well, no. Why?

 She asked if you were going out with everyone later tonight.'

 Yeah, maybe...I’ll come along.

 I still get the same feeling every time I see her.

 My little Lele.

 We went out as a big group that night and it is a bit of a blur but I woke up with a broken toe.

 A car ran over my foot at 5 in the morning.

 I went to school with a smile and the memory of the weekend throbbing in my foot.

 The girl I was living with decided China was not for her and went home.

 The next year and a half in China is still the most specialest time of my life so far. 

 I made amazing friends from all over the world.

 I saw places in China that I still cannot believe are real.

 I will spend a longer time later explaining everything I can remember about China.

 The ending of my China story is still my best drunken bar story I’ve got.

 I'll do my best to keep it brief here but it is a story that I really will get onto 'paper' one of these days.

 The gist of it is...

 I was working for a school that had given me a dodgy work visa without my knowledge.

 I thought everything was golden and I was building my new life in China.

 Working and helping other people find jobs there to get a similar amazing experience that I had been having was my mission.

 Then, the school got raided by immigration police one sunny morning in October.

 It was scary but I assumed that they would take a look at my work permit and they would usher me on my merry way back to my classroom so I could continue my day.

 You can guess that is not quite what happened.

 After a short interview...How long have you worked here? Where do you live? He told me 'ok, you go home now'.

 Awesome, thanks! Have a good day.

 No, you go HOME now!

 Oh, fu*k me, ok

 For about 8 hours we sat as a group in an empty room waiting to see the results for each person who came back.

 Like some depressed American Idol backstage waiting area.

 All I could think about was that my Lele would be here in Beijing and I was headed back to Chicago with winter about to start.

 I thought I would be going back to my apartment to start packing and I would be leaving quickly. Ha.

 I, along with about 8 or 9 others was taken to a jail about 45 minutes away and sat in the waiting area there for an hour or so until being thoroughly…thoroughly searched and put in a room away from the others with 5 or 6 rough looking Chinese dudes.

 Not rough like tough, but skinny, sick, drunk, something.

 It was a really bright, sterile room, maybe 30 sq. meters.

 Surrounded by frosted windows and a hard plastic bench seat that leaned slightly forward so you could never get comfortable.

 I was there, freezing, legs tucked into my shirt until the morning.

 Once we got taken from there, we went to the big jail where I would be for the next 10 days.

 Or so I thought...

 At this point I still had hope that they would take another look at my work permit and realize their mistake.

 Never happened. I still don’t really know exactly what I got arrested for.

 The moments when I first was led to the room that I would be in will never leave my brain.

 When they brought me in, it was in the middle of afternoon nap time.

 I walked in to 17 or 18 Chinese men lying shoulder to shoulder, on their backs.

 It was like nine coffee tables against the wall for beds.

 Each guy got one blanket that could be a pillow or a blanket, not both.

 They all looked up at me like I was famous.

 I cannot explain skillfully enough how awkward it was to lay down in between two guys smiling at you with these old poor Chinese man teeth smiling at you like they just won the lottery.

 On the wall, someone had scratched "10 days is bullshit, contact your embassy".

 Umm, ok.

 The third day there I finally was able to talk to someone who spoke English.

 One of the guards brought me in to his office because he wanted to talk about the NBA.

 He gave me a cigarette, which was nice. 

 I asked him about what it said on the wall.

 Would I really be here 10 days or how will I know...?

 He looked right at me and said yeah maybe 10 days, maybe 6 months, not sure...

 I can still feel how my stomach felt when he said that.

 The time in there was not as bad as how I imagined it to be before arriving.

 The worst part of all of it was the lack of sleep.

 Each night you would have to stand and watch someone sleep in your spot for half of the designated sleeping time.

 When it was your turn to lay down you had someone staring at you and a fluorescent light blinking constantly but not in a pattern.

 Just random blinks, nothing to rely on.

 Pure chaos in my brain.

 I slept maybe 8 hours in the 2 weeks I was there.

 I began to get a little nutty towards the end.

 After what that guard told me, I thought I was just there indefinitely and I would never sleep normal again.

 The last few days there, a guy from Libya told me how he watched his family get murdered and how he escaped to China to study and get a degree.

 One day the police realized his passport was fake and now he just lives in Chinese jail because he can’t go home.

 The overall experience and especially the few days getting to know him and hearing his story made it so I never feel bad for myself any more.

 The drive to the airport and the flight home still seem like some weird dream I had.

 Before I was actually brought to the jail, I was able to stop and grab a change of clothes.

 Lele was there waiting for me and I asked her to marry me as I was being taken out by the police

 I had to make sure this wasn't the end.

 It wasn't.

 When I got back to the US, I went to live with a dear friend, Dusty, in Raleigh, North Carolina.

 My Lele and her amazing mom came to North Carolina just before Christmas and we got married in February.

 We took a couple quick trips to Colorado and Chicago.

 I am so grateful for her mom allowing us to continue our love story.

 We were living in NC for about 6 months and decided we needed to be back in Asia, so....Bangkok!

 We have been here almost 6 years now and absolutely love this city.

 I am able to paint every day and put beautiful things out into the world that some people are actually willing to give me money for!

 I really cannot ask for more.

 Thank you a million times to those of you who have supported me in getting to this point.

 Those of you who love me, I hope I am making you proud.

 People who are just meeting me recently, thank you so so very much for giving a shit about me and my crazy colorful world I am building.

 

Have an amazing, blessed day.