When I was young I remember long car rides. My family lived about 30 minutes from school and church. I used to sit in the back seat of our 1985 brown station wagon between my older sister on my left (who would do everything she could to annoy me) and my younger brother on my right.
My weapons against the boredom of our daily commute and the attacks of my sister were simple: lined paper and a #2 lead pencil. I filled that lined paper with all kinds of things—dinosaurs, animals, robots, cartoons and people. Those doodles were the beginning of my love for art.