It would feel crass, vulgar and vaguely gross to describe to you the litany of achievements in my life.
I’m not what you’d call a vain man. There’s a difference between believing you’re good looking and knowing you’re good looking. A vain man stares into the mirror, worrying his hairline, plucking and teasing his eyebrows – forever paranoid that his looks are the subject of others conversations.
A good looking man wakes and greets the world with a smile. He knows that he needn’t worry about an eyebrow being out of place, or a grey hair ruining his day. These small imperfections only serve to accentuate his undeniable beauty that radiates, self-evident – regardless of flaws.
It is not necessary for an artist to be beautiful. Nor is it by any means compulsory for art itself to be beautiful. Look at Picasso or Monet, their techniques were masterful but the results were by no means pretty.
I have the good fortune of being both beautiful and being able to produce beautiful art.
It is not important where or when I was born. All that matters is that I am here; present and effervescent.