I can't remember a time in my life when I wasn't doodling. During my teens, after surviving years of violence, art saved my life by providing me an outlet for my anguish. I was certain violence was so attracted to me because there was something wrong with me, that I was simply worth less than other people and had been made to be controlled and used. Art also saved me by giving me something to keep living for. I didn't want to leave life until I finished my current drawing, and thankfully I usually came up with a great idea for my next project before the current one was finished. When I enrolled in college, though, my art and creative writing ground to an abrupt halt that would last for a decade while I focused on trying to be an accountant—no matter how unnatural it felt.

In 2019, after coming out as trans, I started making paper drawings and street art murals of TPOC figures to help me feel less alone. An art teacher told me artists who had difficult childhoods tend to have perfectionist and control issues to the point where our art resembles a photo. I suppose that's why I'm instinctively drawn to realism fine art, but also find the chaos of spray paint with its frequent malfunctions to be far more thrilling. At first, I made only fine art or street art, but I've recently realized there is no reason I can't do both by creating graffiti-style art on mediums that can be taken home by collectors, such as canvas. Though my style is ever-evolving, I think I will always be combatting my childhood feelings of worthlessness by painting those who have also been undervalued by the majority.