I grew up in a minefield, with no clothes on my back. I spent the first 22 years of my life questioning the reasoning behind my existence while watching the greener grass which swayed calmly on the other side. The wall which separated me from my dreams provided the ground for which to express my condition. My ill fated caretaker witnessed my pain and provided me the ink for which to pursue my ambition. And so day after day, night after night, I applied my formula onto the wall, which after 22 years had transformed itself into a portrait of my vision. A vision so pure and so innocent that I let it become Myne and Yours.
