Growing up I knew I wanted to do two things; write and create/make things. I loved telling stories and I loved anything that had to do with building things. I still do. The writing came from my mother and the building from my father. It wasn't more complicated than that:) When I was 7 I decided that I was going to write a play. Not any play, it was going to become a movie and I knew for sure that I would win an Oscar. I had the story in my head and it was only a matter of putting the words on paper. I was working on my masterpiece for years, and by years I mean days, back then three days really did seem like seven years.
The day I finished, we were invited to my mother's girlfriend's house. In an attempt to keep me occupied, my lovely mommy suggested that I draw the different characters in my story as well as their outfits. This sounded like a phenomenal idea and I started drawing. I did it for hours, until it was time to leave, and I voila...I was in love with fashion and the beauty of style. I always watched Fashion TV with my mother, but it wasn't until I started sketching that I really felt the love.
What about the play that was going to become a movie?? It sucked, and every time I tried to read it to my daddy he looked at me as if I had mental problems. He called it "never ending". I actually found it a few years ago in my old bedroom, and the embarrassment flashbacks that I'm suffering until this day are agonizing! Brrrr!!!! Thank God I was able to polish my writing skills...
Ps. The play was an insult to Oscar.
The day I finished, we were invited to my mother's girlfriend's house. In an attempt to keep me occupied, my lovely mommy suggested that I draw the different characters in my story as well as their outfits. This sounded like a phenomenal idea and I started drawing. I did it for hours, until it was time to leave, and I voila...I was in love with fashion and the beauty of style. I always watched Fashion TV with my mother, but it wasn't until I started sketching that I really felt the love.
What about the play that was going to become a movie?? It sucked, and every time I tried to read it to my daddy he looked at me as if I had mental problems. He called it "never ending". I actually found it a few years ago in my old bedroom, and the embarrassment flashbacks that I'm suffering until this day are agonizing! Brrrr!!!! Thank God I was able to polish my writing skills...
Ps. The play was an insult to Oscar.
