I was always the artist in the family: the one who, early on, liked to draw on walls, furniture, and paper. In the following years of school I played with chalks, pencils, inks, watercolors and oils. I worked on notebook paper, sketchpads and sketchpad backs, woods, hot- and cold-pressed artist papers, and canvas.

In college I had to try, however. Techniques and visions didn't come to me naturally. I put in maximum effort, but my obsession with order doesn't necessarily make sense in a world of senses.

Then I discovered my real talent, which lay in pixels. I put the clunky artist materials down and went into graphic design. A combination of art and design in order.

Then, Frank. The natural artist, who didn't need formal training: a teacher who points out light and shadow, perspective, feeling. He paints from inside.

I am frequently humbled and awed by his talent.