The Writer...

My words spill upon the page thus resembling the concern of adversity, and like the expressions by any being its somber yet bright selection pleads for more. It is the dance of life and oh how the languages dance, yet they can not be taken without acceptance and imagination. Choices impede the truth, and it is your own selections through the written word that makes things as they are. I may believe, I may dream, and most certainly try to emboss my mind into the paragraphs, but it is you who changes everything. It is you who make things what they are.

The Artist...

My strengths lie not within the words, but under the guidance of three important influences: My head, My hand, My heart. I am an Illustrator, rather, an Endeavoring Artist who faces the world with the overwhelming want to create. There are many things I am willing to try, but there are habits and loves that turn even the most innocent image into my dreams. I worship beasts, Monsters, Creatures and the like, and there is never a time when I am not thinking about such.

Myself...

Who am I? That I cannot even answer for myself. Truly, how could you perceive yourself as something when others see you differently? No matter how you try to define yourself and your being, you are always disputed by the ever changing reflection of time...I am of Self Loathe, I am Broken, and I am the Fiend Architect.