In the fall of 2006, just by chance I found a hidden talent of mine. I was 29 and have never carved anything before, until I realized I could take an image and a piece of wood and turn it into a 3D carving. Now most people would be excited to realize what talents they naturally are good at, especially me. As long as I remember I wanted to be an artist, I wanted so badly to have the ability to draw or paint, but I was never that great at it, no matter how much I tried.
But this new talent bothered me. I couldn't be happy with just having this talent, I just questioned it. I asked myself things like; How do I know how to do this? Why now, when I'm almost 30 do I finally realize this? And why do I know how to do it? Make a business of it did not seem like a good enough answer. There just felt like there something I wasn't understanding. I couldn't enjoy it even though it came at a low point in my life, I had lost a business early in the recession and didn't know what to do with my life and my carving turned into a business pretty much over night. Before I knew it I was making props for movies and sending signs around the world. As the years went by I work hard building this new adventure and my questions about it faded. Until 2012. I started to hear the same quote over and over- "Everyone has a god given talent meant for something greater than their own benefit" It reminded me of my question years ago and brought back those feelings. The wondering why, I would rack my brain trying to figure this out, but I was clueless. For a year and half I had this in the back of my mind. One day I was reminiscing about the poor condition I started in, and how I would find myself stop carving and feeling if my piece looked right because I wasn't able to see well because of poor lighting, dusty/foggy safety glasses. I had never used my hands to see before and I did it without even thinking about it. I remember feeling so much appreciation for my sight at that moment. It was one of those feeling you feel so deep in your sole. An empty pain of compassion that you feel when you realize how fortunate you really are to have something so basic, yet so important that someone else may never have. That is when I knew what I was meant to do. I needed to help the blind see the beauty that is around them. And so is the start of Blind Art.