o r r i 

I started painting in high school, then discovered song writing in college (master's degree in HCI), before embarking on a 20 plus year design career (eBay, Airbnb, Uber, Instagram, Amazon, Microsoft). I list these employers not in a self-aggrandizing way, but with a sense of pride. I worked hard at these places, met some great people and made some cool stuff. 

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During the pandemic, my life came to a dramatic holt. I felt burnt out. Like really burnt out. I'd been careless with my mental / physical health, my spirituality, my ability to be a great designer / husband / father. In retrospect, I was probably self-medicating a little with alcohol. Not uncontrollably, but enough to know it wasn't healthy and likely fueling episodes of depression. I wasn't motivated or inspired — couldn't even fake it. It was paralyzing. 

Frankly, I was lost and wasn't sure if I could claw my way back to a normal life. It was a terrifying and dark time. 

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They say your vocation chooses you, and for me, painting was it. A long lost friend had returned. It was like a forgotten language that had slept dormant inside of me (likely kept alive by years of design work, thumping out the occasional Nick Cave song on the piano and a general engrained, perhaps genetic, love for art and creativity) had awoken abruptly, almost out of sheer desperation. It was exactly like when Agent Dale Cooper 'wakes up' in Twin Peaks The Return and says "I am the FBI!" *chills*

 

The universe had slapped me in the face and told me it was time for a sabbatical, even though I'd just landed my dream job at Instagram. But after 10 years in the States, my wife, 4 kids and I thought it was time for a year off — to travel, see a ton of art, fuel up and even entertain a move back to our homeland of Australia, to see friends and family, and of course, paint, paint, paint!