For all of us it begun somewhere. That moment when you really wanted to grab a pen, or a crayon, or a brush and begin to shape your world. What is your story?
Mine is this.
I was like 12 or 13 years old, and really sucked at math (I still do).Our neighbour had a nephew, couple of years older than me, he was in highschool, a brilliant boy, brilliant at math too. So my parents tought that he could do some extrawork with my overglued brain and teach me some math. After a few enthuziastic trials he got bored, my speed in calculation is not something you want to mess with! So he pulled out o piece of paper and a bottle of ink and a real stilus that looked ancient to me. I forgot instantly why i was there and for the first time in my life I saw a tree groing on paper, from thin lines of ink... and than shadow grow around unveiling a garden. Next thing I know is that all i wanted furthermore was to grow myself a beautifull tree from thin lines of ink. And the feeling goes on.