I remember the week in my childhood that I thought is going to be the most traumatising week of my life.
I remember this was what started those nightmares with clowns.
I remember the first week moving to New York, that was even more traumatising than having a week of sleepless nights of weird nightmares with clowns.
I remember working hard together with my only friend who is doing art with me, reminding me how to be tough, to conquer every obstacles we encounter. We relate ourselves to cacti, they are full of life, and beautiful.
I remember drawing with my mom, she is my fountain of inspiration.
I remember sharing my ideas with my mom and the only friend that I work in the “studio” with.
I remember the “studio”, the place I can create my magic.
I remember making music with my friends, jamming to the songs that no one else but us listen to.
I remember liking something that I do not fully understand with, just like how I fell in love with Hip Hop music.
