The city I grew up in taught me that art is meant to be lived in—scrawled on blacktop, painted on brick, moving on a train car. But it was my father who gave me the tools. A computer. A dial-up connection. A realization that I could build worlds out of pixels. I spent years working as a graphic designer chasing that feeling, but eventually, the industry crushed it out of me. Design became a job, not a joy. I was creating by committee, and I hated it.

Then I lost my dad. And when you lose your hero, you stop tolerating things that don't matter. Grief stripped everything back to the studs. It reminded me that tomorrow isn't promised. I realized I was done waiting for permission to make the art I wanted to make.

Artazyn isn't just a brand; it's a return to the heartbeat of the work. No conveyor belts. Whether you're buying a print or we're working together on a website or design project, you're dealing directly with me from start to finish.

I want this work to feel human, local, and alive. This is for you Dad. I miss you. I love you.