I was born in a small town to some people with no money, sort of like Jesus. So, off to a good start. Fast forward a few years and things are still good, in spite of myself and no thanks to Satan.
I came out of the womb with another fetus that I handmade myself. I'm a maker to a fault. I wish I could say that I didn't make my own clothes in middle school. I wish that so hard. But I did, and I paid a steep price. I wake up thinking about making things and I go to sleep thinking about making things. And in between I make things. That is how my world turns.
When the other kids were writing reports about their favorite animal, I was sewing life-size, stuffed sharks. "That wasn't the assignment," is my life's motto. Try as I might, I have the complete inability to go through the motions. I just can't. I'm programmed to look for different ways to do things. And by different I mean better. And by better I mean sharks.