I am raising the bar, and lowering it as I see fit.

It is 9:45 PM, 22nd March 2022 as I’ve begun typing this from my office. I just exhaled.

And again. I’m on top of the world, even if – just two hours ago – my family jewels were swinging gleefully in Dubai’s not-quite-summer, not-quite-winter evening breeze as I walked with purpose to collect my Expo 2020 Dubai: Run 3 goodie bag, because I didn’t have any underpants on.

Wait, what?!

I pause to laugh. Did you actually write that, Karan? I suppose explanations are in order, folks…

Before I get into the gory details of my family jewels, allow me to recap my day.

Although I’d set an alarm for 5:30 AM, I struggled to rouse myself because I’d worked out my arms yesterday late at night, and the task of going for a run to prep for my first upcoming 10K (and first ever public run) was daunting.

I switched off the alarm, and turned off the next four, set to ring within the next 10 minutes, and shut my groggy eyes.


I then awoke at 7:45, and rushed to the office to prepare for a meeting with my accountant who was coming in at 9:30.

Not the best start. And that, unfortunately, set the tone for the next 7 hours of my day.

Irrespective of how my week looks, I love getting a morning workout in, because that simultaneously leaves me feeling rejuvenated, and satisfied that I have taken another step towards becoming a stronger person than I was yesterday.

My morning workout could consist of:

  1. A 6:30 AM HIIT boxing, or an all-levels boxing class at Spartans Boxing Club, which I joined in January this year.
  2. An arm workout in front of my dresser, usually performed topless and in my boxers, because hey – I can’t be the only one who likes watching themself work out close to naked, right? My arm workout includes dips, curls (for the girls), push-ups, tricep extensions, a farmer’s walk, and a couple of simple, yet effective exercises involving resistance bands. I also use the resistance bands as part of rehabilitation for my left tricep, which I injured in 2019 but never got around to fixing. I then finish off by performing dead hangs on the bar in my community, which has been a godsend for my shoulders, and back. I used to suffer from a 7-year-old shoulder impingement injury in both my shoulders, until I saw a brilliant osteopath by the name of Kris Rai who recommended I dead hang. The benefits are many, and I will probably get into them in another blog.
  3. A leg workout involving squats, lunges, an elliptical run and some more rehab exercises involving pushing down on a foam roller to strengthen my quadriceps, to treat fat pad impingement in both my knees, which I injured in the gym in 2015.
  4. An ab workout – which I usually dread – that hits different parts of my core.

Although variety is undoubtedly the spice of life, I focus on a few exercises, aiming to perfect, and perform them everyday.

I feel a sense of calm when I execute the same motions repeatedly, and love as I gradually feel myself becoming stronger and growing into the healthy person I used to be. Conversely, when I find my routine gets too monotonous, I soothe my nerves and keep on keeping on by remembering the Zen Buddhist phrase, “Chop wood, carry water”.


Chaos, followed by order.

Right. Back to my day. Which was chaotic. I could not strike the big things off my to-do list because ad-hoc tasks kept popping up. I tried to bring some sense to matters by fully focusing on one job at a time, but to no avail.

Like I mentioned; I didn’t start my day right, so couldn’t give my all to each task. I got easily distracted and even made mistakes, further compounding the time taken to successfully finish each job.

But, all that was to change at 5:30 PM today. I had booked a strength and conditioning class at Spartans, and was raring to go. It had been over 1 week since I had set foot in the gym, and God, I missed it.

Prior to booking a class, I take stock of how my day is looking, and then go ahead and book. By way of this, I make a commitment to myself that I must show up, and hone my boxing skills, or improve my fitness levels. This means that I have to maximize productivity, and get my work done on time.

Simon was setting things up as I walked in, and he greeted me with his usual cheery and amicable self. I told him I was going to run my first 10K on Saturday, and he mentioned how completing it was a mental hurdle as opposed to physical. It was all in the head. I agreed. And couldn’t argue. After all, Simon said it! (I am an endless supply of dad jokes, sue me.)

Joining the class were Sam, a boxing coach at Spartans; Violette, who oversees things in the gym; and Sonal, who I hadn’t met before (I’m not sure if she is a member, or was in for a trial).

After Simon shared what gruelling circuits we’d be in for today, we stretched, and got down to working out to the best of our respective abilities…

The next 55 minutes proved instrumental in transforming my physical and mental state for the next 6 hours.

Because as I performed the exercises, I knew – without a reasonable doubt – that the only person I was competing with in that space was myself.

Nobody knows the extent of my injuries. Nobody knows what body part I’d worked out that day – or the day prior. Nobody knows if I’d had a physically exhausting day at a construction site. Or, conversely, a lethargic 7 hours spent working on my desk.

Nobody knows any of that. Except for me. Which is a sobering reality.

I know that I must work hard, yet smart. I know that I must push myself, whilst constrained by my body’s current limitations.

In sum: I know I must continually raise the bar, but lower it when needed.


As the session raged on, and I lunged forward on one knee, and lunged backward on the other; (to one of Whitney Houston’s most popular tracks – Simon has good taste) I stared at myself in the mirror, and noticed the lack of muscle on my quadriceps.

Whilst I previously would have looked at myself in repulsion, I now view myself with a healthy intrigue.

I briefly thought about how far I’ve come (I am now able to stand for long periods without pain in my knees, which is an achievement in and of itself) and how much further I have got to go.

There’s a long road ahead until I reach where I want to be physically, but it’s a journey worth undertaking – blood, sweat, and tears be damned.

And before I knew it, the class was over. I had become better. Over the course of 60-whirlwind-minutes.

Flying high at a HIIT boxing class on the weekend. I was a solo Spartan that morning. Shot by Dani on 20th February 2022, Spartans Boxing Club, Arjan, Dubailand.

No boxers at a boxing gym? Poetic.

With endorphins flowing, my mental state uplifted, and body buzzing with energy, I headed into the changing room to shower.

But upon hanging my change of clothes on the shower railing, I realized with dismay…I hadn’t brought a change of boxers. (My late start clearly still making me pay.)

There was no way I was going to wear the same pair I had just sweated buckets in. So I decided to go commando, and headed to Ibn Battuta Mall to collect my welcome pack for Saturday’s 10K.

Of course, nobody knew I went commando. And truth be told, it felt great.

I may or may not do this again…

Run Karan, run.

I learnt about the Expo Run 3 from Dani, a coach at Spartans Boxing Club who specializes in cardiovascular fitness. She also relishes punishing me with intense HIIT workouts, but you didn’t hear this from me.

She told me about the run in February. I could have chosen between the 3K, 5K, and 10K. But I delayed registering until last week, by which point only a slot for the 10K was available.

I signed up without hesitation, because I have decent fitness levels. But there’s the small matter of my knees not being in tip-top shape. Plus, I haven’t run in years.

Out of curiosity, I did some cursory research on Monday during my lunch-break to know what to expect when running a 10K for the first time.

I won’t lie; reading that people usually train for 3 – 4 weeks to prepare for a 10K gave me a slight jolt. Several articles confirmed this, giving me the butterflies.

But what put me at ease was learning that – as is usually the case – other people have faced the same dilemma in the past.

And what should they do but type their problem into the search bar, hoping for a solution that only good old Google can provide?

Yes, I fall into that bracket. You can have a hearty laugh. I sure did.

I was a decent short-distance runner in school (often finishing 3rd or 4th) but, if memory serves me correctly, I used to finish 6th or 7th in the long-distance runs.

Apart from the occasional jog, or less-than-occasional sprint, I haven’t run properly in over a decade. Mostly due to my knees.

But when I used to, I remember running with my earphones in until I experienced runner’s high. I loved that.

It remains to be seen how well I do on the day. What is crucial is not to get buoyed by the energy of the other runners, and run too fast, too soon, and exhaust myself.

I am not looking to set a PR. I should have fun, and enjoy the run. Go at my pace, and bear in mind that I will be running alongside those who have practised for this run for weeks, months, even.

As is the case: the only man I will attempt to best is myself. But all things considered, I will take it easy.

Here’s what I got for a 25 Dirham registration fee: the 3 Expo passes are welcome. I still haven’t been. Water will be provided on the course. Shot 22nd March 2022, Arjan, Dubailand.

I’m on the quest to become my best. Physically. Mentally. Creatively. Professionally. Spiritually.

Making the decision to join Spartans Boxing Club after a free trial, despite recovering from two long-term injuries in the form of my shoulders and knees, has been a boon.

I’ve always had a soft spot for contact sports (yes, that pun is as intentional just as the grass is green).

And I’m not quite sure why.

It might have been that one late night as I was on holiday in New Delhi, when I was 19 years young. I was lazily channel-surfing after a delightful dinner; Delhi’s fresh vegetables have nothing on the imported produce you get in Dubai.

I decided to check out what was going on in the world of sport. Until I stopped short, and my eyes started to widen. Slowly.

I had come across GSP absolutely mauling some poor nameless chap in The Octagon.

I do not remember the match, or its significance in that year’s UFC title championship.

All I remember is how he utterly dominated those few minutes. He stamped his authority on the judges’ scorecards, left the other guy bloody, and left an indelible mark on my impressionable teenage brain.

I’m not a violent guy. Far from it. But just as I’ve been endlessly striving to become the best version of myself, I’ve also been practicing an arcane ritual accessible only to men, which has not only made me more resilient, and eloquent, but highly emotional, creative, and aggressive too.

And I cannot think of a better avenue to channel raw, masculine energy than by practising a martial art. It humbles you. It disciplines you. It strengthens you.

I’ve been boxing for just under 3 months now. I even picked up a TFCC tear on my left wrist in the first month, which was unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected given the circumstances.

But hindsight is a blessing, and in the time I couldn’t use my left wrist to its full ability, I built muscle in my lower body, which is something I must continue to focus on.

Every time I step into Spartans for a class, I push myself. I want to learn. I want to grow.

But boxing is both, one thing, and many things at the same time.

Boxing is a skill. Boxing is an art. Boxing is a sport. Boxing is self-defence. Boxing is a full-body workout. Boxing is a science.

And each time I don my gloves, I become acutely aware of how much I have to learn in this sphere.

It gets frustrating at times, I’ll admit. Then again, the world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. (God, if there ever was a time to weave the perfect pop-cultural reference into my blog – that was it!)

I’ve accepted the fact that life is difficult, so the fact that life is difficult is irrelevant.

Ever since, I’ve been shouldering responsibility and expanding my comfort zone.

Funnily enough, when you decide to take matters into your own hands and journey into the unknown, you meet people.

People who seemingly magically waltz into your life. People who want the best for you. People who mentor you.

Like some of my coaches at Spartans. I’ve already mentioned Simon, who teaches the strength and conditioning class.

Simon has seriously great dad energy. By which I mean that he looks out for you. And pushes you to work harder. As described earlier, I like his taste in music. He also comes armed and ready with a great dad joke or two. (Or ten). And I, for one, am a massive advocate for an infallible dad joke.

Yet another coach I have come to greatly respect is Jalal, who joined recently. I had him saved as ‘Coach Jalal’ on my phone because that is how everybody referred to him as.

And it only took a couple of classes to see why. If there was anyone who’s earned the title of ‘Coach’, it’s him.

I keep it real. And I love people who do. Without pulling any punches, Jalal is a solid coach because he knows his shit. And gives a damn. Oh, and he does a decent moonwalk too.

That’s the first time I’ve cussed on my blog. I can’t quite brush aside the clichéd ‘there’s a first time for everything’, because it makes for the perfect segue as I conclude…

I’m going to run my first 10K in a few sleeps. On 26th March 2022. Is my body ready?

Hell, no! But just as I enrolled into a boxing gym on a whim, and found how it brought order to other areas of my life, I am sure this run will teach me a lesson or two on my journey of self-development.

So long as I take calculated risks on the grounds of the Expo 2020 Dubai, come Saturday morning.

Cheesing. Shot 22nd March 2022, Dubai.

I loved writing this blog – more so than usual. I hope you enjoyed reading. I am happy with the state of my writing and am excited to continue publishing. I will write about some of the positive effects boxing has had on my life in another blog. Until then, I will catch you in the next one.

Unravelling the curious case of @karangoesdancing

A story doesn’t have to appeal to the heart. It can also appeal to the spine.

And with two magic words…ay, no pressure.

That’s a handsome guy, extra hand notwithstanding. I clicked this on Sunday, 27th Feb 2022 on my way to Wadi Abadilah, Fujairah, with a vibrant and diverse crew.

Time flies when you’re having fun, and it’s been a whirlwind week.

We’re into another weekend as I type this on Saturday, 5th March 2022, and I must get these words out now before life’s duties and responsibilities get in the way of my writing.

I’ve been itching to blog for months, but never seemed to find the words, or make the time.

But as any great writer knows, you must show up, even if your muse doesn’t.

The process must be trusted. The inspiration will flow. The words will come. The story will be told.

I’m in a good place in my life. I’m happy. But not content. There is much work to be done before I will be.

And once I get to that stage, I will set more goals, and work relentlessly towards achieving them.

If only I had this drive and determination a couple of years ago, I wonder where I’d be today.

That said; I don’t dwell on the past. I only learn from it. A wise man reviews history, analyses what they could have improved, and armed with that knowledge, boldly creates their future.

Which is why, in this two-part blog, I want to tell the story of the most creatively fulfilling year of my life (2018 – 2019) as an electronic dance music vlogger, and t-shirt blogger.

With the exception of a Twitter I barely use; I don’t have social media anymore. Although I use LinkedIn, I’m not lumping it along with the big three – Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter – because it is a different and necessary beast.

(I also loathe how it has aped Facebook’s UI, but that’s beside the point.)

Depending on who you ask, not being on social media may either be considered a cardinal sin or completely normal. What is worth examining, however, is your relationship with, and what you gain from it.

What follows is the unabridged tale of when I was building something greater than myself.

For the 1.5-minute-long version, watch my vlog.

If you like what you see, I would appreciate it if you subscribed to my channel.

Please let me know if you do so I can thank you.

I’ve only just started exploring YouTube and am excited by the myriad of creative opportunities it offers.

Life, in technicolour squares.

Having the time of my life at Mr. Scruff’s Boiler Room. Shot August 2018, Dekmantel Festival, Amsterdamse Bos, Amsterdam.

I can truthfully say I was using social media (esp. Instagram) as a means to an end – to gain employment. Which is not wrong. My heart was in the right place, but I lacked focus.

With the wisdom of hindsight, I can restart my second digital project (@teesonthestreets) this year, so long as I stay true to the core idea.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s get into the story of my first digital identity @karangoesdancing…

Let’s go dancing. I wanna go dancing with you, all night dancing.

My end goal was to secure a job covering underground electronic dance music across Europe. Either as a journalist, presenter, vlogger, or DJ. Although I already held a day job as an advertising copywriter, I had become disillusioned with the gig 3 years in. The reasons for my disillusionment? Several, but chief amongst them was that I didn’t see the point to my work, because I felt I wasn’t contributing anything of value to the world.

To reach my goal, I decided to hone my creative and social media skills through @karangoesdancing, where I would post Stories involving a mix of vlogs, photos, and blogs every day. All I did was change my existing handle (where I had some 300 followers) and start sharing content that was dance-music-focused.

Post with purpose, essentially.

I started experimenting with vlogs on Instagram in June 2018, making them for myself and noticed that people enjoyed watching. Note; I wasn’t strictly talking about music back then.

I merely went about my day, documented it, and had fun doing so.

After losing my job in advertising (mostly due to managerial changes, in part because my love for it had waned, and it showed) in September 2018, I decided to – with unconditional support from my parents – put all my eggs into the music vlogging basket.

My folks gave me a year to do as I deemed fit (known as a gap year in universities) and I was intrigued to see where this path would take me…

And this path certainly took me places! Some highlights:

1. Being asked to handle on-site social media creation for a boutique Burning Man-esque music festival called Magnetic Fields, held in a heritage 17th-century palace in Jaipur, India.

This photo is from 2017, my first time in these hallowed halls. 2018 – my second time at the festival – was the year I handled social media for them.
Magnetic Fields was my first proper music festival and it was there, under the stars – as I listened to Four Tet, spellbound – I decided to devote my life to music in some way.

2. I was invited to a panel discussion – organized by my favourite club, Analog Room – about preventing harassment on dancefloors. Related: read my blog which sparked this conversation across India, Europe, and the Middle East, which led to the invite.

Flanked by Pooja to my right, one of my best friends, and a measured techno artist. Shot January 2019, The Flip Side, Dubai.

3. Meeting, and befriending my favourite artists, some of whom shared nuggets of wisdom on leading a creative life. I also crossed paths with veterans from the music industry, who guided me on how to succeed in the business.

Hanging with Anastasia after her gig. She closed her set with a cheeky, and classic techno track. Shot October 2018, Analog Room, Dubai.

4. Winning 4 passes to Glitch Festival, and reuniting with rave-happy friends in gorgeous Malta, who came to party, no questions asked, in the summer of 2019.

Aleks, thank you for coming down to dance with me to Carl Cox. You’re a legend. And a half. I trust you’re killing the wildlife…photography, but of course! Fingers crossed your shots make it to National Geographic one day.
(PS – Yes, I know, that’s Peggy Gou on stage. This is our best photo from the festival.)
Shot August 2019, Glitch Festival, Malta.

Amy and Martina, I trust you guys are well and have accepted your new lives as overnight Boiler Room sensations. I still crack up about our reunion at 25:40 minutes into that solid set. Shot August 2019, Glitch Festival, Malta.

5. And last, but not least, connecting with people across the world through music.

I look back in gratitude at these magnificent experiences. And cannot believe what an extraordinary year that was.

…but I’d like to direct your attention as to why I started doing this in the first place.

I wanted to make a career of this, remember? And when you commodify yourself with an identity like @karangoesdancing, there comes a pressure to keep up appearances, especially on social media, where everybody seems to be having the time of their lives.

So, I chose to share,

but selectively.

Cherry-pick and publish highlights.

Things appeared rosy and hunky-dory on camera. But, for better or worse, (better, in my opinion) life is not a party.

There are highs, and lows.

That’s just the way life goes.

Whilst things seemed great digitally,

my physical life was in tatters.

My parents weren’t happy with my still-fledgling career choice. Besides, I wasn’t making any money doing this.

To remedy that, I started freelance writing. I was excellent at my job, so made enough to get by, but working freelance requires extreme dedication, and self-discipline. None of which I had at that time; I’ll admit. My food and living expenses (not to mention credit card bills) were also generously paid for by my loving parents.

I was doing what I loved but wasn’t working to a game plan. Whilst I had connected with key players in the music industry, I wasn’t sure how to leverage these connections into landing a job. And when I wasn’t creating content; I chose to party instead of work.

Common sense dictates you must have a mentor when you journey into the unknown. Especially in a field as hyper-competitive as music.

But what happens when you embark on

a journey by yourself, wanting nothing but to connect with and make people happy due to the naivete in your heart, yet also wanting to make it lucrative – thus going against your fundamental principles for doing something creative

– at the same time?

You overthink. And crash. And burn. Hard. And when you’re a self-professed hedonist, you turn to your vices. Which, for me, was unbridled pleasure.

Sexual gratification. I’d lose myself in lust for days at a time, but like a hamster running aimlessly on the hedonic treadmill, I’d return to my baseline level of happiness after reaching massive heights of ecstasy.

What’s worse is that I would repeat my mistakes, and like good old Pavlov’s dog himself, go through the same thought-stimulus-pleasure loop.

I don’t want to elucidate on this dark period, but of two things I am sure:

1. There is immense work to be done in the shadows, and on my Shadow, before I get to where I want to be. What’s encouraging is that the work began some time ago, and I’ve grown since.

2. Everything in nature is cyclical, and things are bound to improve. So long as we are conscious of our limitations, and make pushing past our comfort zones part of our daily routines.


Back to the story, then. Nobody knew what mental tug-of-war I was going through, yet I blissfully continued sharing Story after Story every day, creating ridiculous hype leading up to Glitch Festival – so when I was awarded 4 free festival passes, I was not surprised.

I’d organically grown my page from a paltry 300 something followers to a 1500-strong community in the span of 11 months.

The math worked out to about 110 new followers every month, which was decent, considering I wasn’t sharing any sponsored posts. I merely interacted with the global dance music community. I also viewed each person I connected with as a, well, person, and not a number.

Although I must say: this number included several bots. I’d be quick on the uptake to block them, but if memory serves me correctly, they would still count as part of your follower count. I do not remember.

People were following my journey every step of the way (the analytics didn’t lie) and were keen to hear my thoughts about this sonic festival on the sun-drenched shores of idyllic Malta.

And I was just as eager to tell that story, but couldn’t do so in good conscience upon my return from that significant trip because of a decision I had to make…

To do what is right, or what is difficult?

That is the question.

My year was up. I had to answer my parents – would I continue the music-vlogging shenanigans (and continue freelance writing on the side), or would I join the family acoustics business?

Frankly, I didn’t have to think long. I was done writing for brands. It was dull work, and I was not a self-starter. It was the same job I’d come to hate over the past few years, except this time I was on my own. No team to help.

I had to be the judge of my own work; which I’ll admit, has held me in good stead…

The music-vlogging was fun whilst it lasted. But I knew the party had to end at some point. Over the course of my vlogging efforts, I was offered one job in the music industry in Dubai, but I didn’t follow up when I should have.

So, I bit the bullet and joined my family business in September 2019. I decided to go off the grid by:

  1. Deactivating both my Instagram accounts @karangoesdancing and @teesonthestreets;
  2. Deactivating my Facebook;
  3. Turning off WhatsApp notifications, and archiving a bunch of chats so I wouldn’t be disturbed;
  4. And not responding to anyone, no matter what remaining platform (such as SoundCloud) they reached out to me from.

Many thought I had died, or worse. It was a selfish decision but had to be done. I had to give my all in this new field. On occasion, I felt the brunt of leaving people (including friends) in the dark, and it stung. But, I had to focus on the bigger picture. My goal was crystal-clear: I had to rise to the occasion of shouldering my family business.


I’d be lying if I said it was smooth sailing post my return from Malta. But, after a year and a half of impostor phenomenon, mistakes, stress, (coupled with the tempestuous time that was 2020 – hola, COVID-19!) I have somewhat found my feet in the esoteric (who am I kidding, this stuff isn’t as difficult as I thought it would be) field of acoustics.

Whilst I do not enjoy every part of my job, I feel satisfied from seeing a project through to completion. I also enjoy managing my team. But, this is no ordinary job, nor can I treat it as such.

This is my business. And I must treat it with the care and attention it deserves.

What I lack in technical know-how, I make up for with my interpersonal skills and resilient attitude: I get the job done, no matter what.

I’ve also belatedly realized that a career in advertising has given me three invaluable skills:

1. For one; I can communicate. Competently. Which already puts me head and shoulders above the masses in the construction industry. Where it seems like people cannot write a coherent email, or give a clear order to save their life…

2. Two; it has sharpened my thinking – the best creative is rooted in logic and insight. Which will no doubt play a vital role as I progress in my career, and deal with people from varying walks of life, and contrasting worldviews.

3. And three; I can sell. Effectively. I’ve recently begun taking an interest in our company’s social media page, and know that growing a business’ digital presence boils down to staying human, no matter how large you become, and utilizing the usual social media strategies – and some unusual ones, too…


I sometimes miss the halcyon days of vlogging about electronic music as @karangoesdancing. But, they’re just that – a time rooted in nostalgia.

It is okay to reminisce on occasion. Anything beyond does more harm than good.

I might return to that side of myself in the future but on a different platform.

Time will tell.

Electronic music is incredibly dear to me and has played a telling role during several moments in my life, shaping me into the man I am today.

Looking ahead, the story of my other digital side-project (@teesonthestreets) remains to be told, which deserves its own blog. Which I will publish. Soon.


If you’ve read this far, thank you. I appreciate it when people read my words, or listen to my story. If you got something from this blog, please get in touch, or leave a comment. I’d love to hear from you.

I missed this. So much. Blogging, that is. I would love it if you subscribed to my blog, but I want to make it worth your while. I want you to gain value from my words. I want you to feel something each time you receive my thoughts in your inbox. I want to write words that resonate with you.

That is what I’ve always wanted. Which is why I won’t ask you to subscribe again. At least not until I’ve built a habit of publishing on a regular basis, and consistently producing work that I am happy with.

The last time I published was in December 2018. The only reason for not publishing since then is because I was scared to write. But now, as I rediscover my creative capabilities, I know that writing is not as tricky as I made it out to be in my head.

After all, I was paid to write. And when people pay you to do something, you must be doing something right, even – and especially – if you don’t recognise it yourself.

No matter what creative activity I pursue, writing will be my first love. I find it deeply cathartic, and view it as a medium where I can allow myself to be vulnerable.

You cannot hide with words.

And if you know me even slightly, you would know I’m a guy who doesn’t mince his words, and wears his heart on his sleeve.

Which makes perfect sense. Because when I write, I write from the heart and look to connect not only with myself but you, dear reader.

I look forward to sharing more stories with you. Catch you in the next blog.