I want to make life a work of art.
Beauty moves me to tears. It's not just something I admire — it's a way through the pain I’ve carried, a reason to keep living. Beauty fills life with color, with hope, and with the quiet faith that the Divine — God, the Universe, the Absolute — loves me. That beauty is its way of showing me I matter.
When I see my life as art, I embrace the mess. I accept that it’s never done. It’s something to be crafted, chiseled, shaped day by day. Like a sculpture or a symphony, life calls for focus, patience, flow, and curiosity. It takes persistence, play, and the courage to create from the broken parts.
To me, art is like water: gentle enough to nourish and soothe, powerful enough to carve through stone and generate energy that fuels millions. Art, like beauty, can level the hardest of men and melt the coldest of hearts. It reminds us of the true power of love — to sway emotion, inspire behavior, and shift perspective.
This is what drives me. I strive to embody beauty at every stage of life — physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I use my life as my medium. The body is a sculpture. The mind, a deep well of magic. The soul, a signature. And the energy that animates it all — a unique symphony waiting to be conducted.
I’m an artist. And I work with men to uncover the beauty that’s been buried inside them. I help them chisel out their masterpiece. I help them conduct their own orchestra.
I’ve lived through chaos: football fields and rodeo arenas, car sales and nightclubs, homelessness, divorce, estrangement, yoga teacher training, graduate school, university lecturing, living abroad, self-hatred, obesity, burnout, sickness — all of it. And yet, beauty was always the thread that gave my life meaning. Tragedy, struggle, and inevitable triumph — all colored with divine artistry.
