Ret.P started drawing about a year and a half again during my freshman year of college. I can't tell you the exact reason why I started expressing myself on paper with paint markers, I believe it is a combination of events. Failing to get accepted to a good school after High School, I ended up in a small college in rural Pennsylvania. It was the first time that I left the liberal and progressive bubbles that are Paris and Los Angeles. And in this new environment I ended up in, I could not express my thoughts freely. I was surrounded by an atmosphere of anger and violence. The stigmatization against foreigners, religious minorities, and simply people that stood out of the "big" group was tremendous. You were either part of the group or you weren't, and if you weren't then it was safer for you to stay low. Which is what I did.. and it made me increasingly depressed and solitary. However, it was because I was spending increasing amounts of time by myself that I felt this urge to express myself some way or another. There was too much on my mind for me to keep it to myself and I needed to find a way to let things out. I stole my roommate's markers he never used once and they became the medium that gave me back my freedom. Drawing was the only moments where I felt happy, fulfilled, and felt a level of purpose and righteousness that I never experienced before. It became a therapy that hasn't stopped since. 

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