The vivid memories I have of my childhood always took place in my little “art station”. My art station was a plastic chair attached to a table, whose top lifted up to reveal a deep storage space. This storage space, I used to store my crayolas. I got a set of 120 for my 4th birthday. I was ecstatic. Little did I know the day I received them was the start of my whole life. 120 of them, but I knew them all by heart. My parents were always in awe at my ability to identify each and every colour by its crayola names. “They’re all green,” my sister would say but I would always correct her because “chili’s green” and “sour apple green”, CLEARLY NOT THE SAME THING.
It’s this same attention-to-detail that I hope to carry forth to my work at all times. I would sit at my station for hours, colouring book after colouring book. Eventually, I learnt how to make my own colouring books. Slowly but surely, I started making my own comic books, self-drawn, self-coloured and these characters came to life for me.
I loved every second of it.
This is what I want to do for the rest of my life- Create.