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Movement comes natural. It is primal. Fear enriches the experience. Like in free climbing or sky diving. The risk facilitates the reward. Only in boxing is my being released from ego. Outside of it, my skill set is insufficient for confidence to overcome fear. There, the ego claims it’s throne. Beyond the ropes, the constant awareness of my self is tiring and unwanted. I find purpose in defying ego and embracing that what denies it. A magic place called Flow. The realization of that mental state that boxing has provided me with for all those years, was what first led to my artistic endeavors. Now there had to be another way to flow, without having to hit or get hit. I could not let the act of fighting alone claim my peace. The necessities of flow are clear. Skill and challenge. Increased complexity of consciousness the result. My investment of thousands of hours of practice have made my hands good acquaintances. Once tools to harm and defend, now devoted to create. 

Fists to create art of Flow.


Art of Happiness.