I think I finally figured out why I am the why I am. It all makes sense now. There’s this coffee table book called The Fashion Book that I’d spend a solid 4 hours a day flipping through when I was little. I’d forgotten about this phase until the other day. I was frantically looking for double stick tape or something in those random shelves that I always think will have what I’m looking for and there, in the back, was the book. I flipped through a few pages and realized that I’ve done like 10 paintings of images from this book. Never put two and two together until now.