March 2014

The month before I opened my first shoppe in DUMBO Brooklyn (with my good friend to this day, Jared, whose clothing line was called “BE U”) was one of those chapters that felt like the city was starting to lean in closer to my story. Everything was charged. Exciting times. It was that rare moment where you can feel a new era loading in… like the next level is buffering, but you already know it’s about to hit.

During this stretch, I found myself going to Grand Central a lot. There was something about it, the pace of the place, the movement, the energy bouncing off the marble. It’s like Grand Central never stops breathing. People coming from everywhere, headed to everything. Tourists staring up at the ceiling like they’re in church. Commuters moving like they’re late to save the world. And right in the middle of all that motion… there I was, posted up sketching.

I’d set up with my materials, locked in, focused, letting my hand do what it does. And little by little, something would always happen… crowds would form. Not even on purpose. People would slow down, then stop. One person would lean in to look, then another. Before I knew it, there’d be a little semicircle around me, like I was performing without ever announcing a show. You could feel the curiosity. You could hear the “yo, that’s crazy” energy in the air. Grand Central turns anything into a stage if you’re brave enough to plant yourself there.

And the funny thing is, I loved it. That pressure. That feeling of being watched while still staying locked into the work. That’s New York training. Creating in real time, in public, in the middle of noise and motion, while still keeping the line clean. It sharpened me.

I was also eating halal basically daily during this chapter. Cheap, easy, delicious. Halal cart food was fuel. It was the kind of meal that felt designed for the grind: quick bite, hot sauce, white sauce, right back to work. No wasted time. No fancy detours. Just straight calories for a man running on vision.

Plus I have the bladder of a champ, so I could really put in those long hours without having to break my momentum every five minutes. That mattered more than people realize. When you’re in a flow state in the city, stopping can cost you. If I’m locked in, I want to stay locked in.

Looking back, that month felt like a warm-up lap before something huge. The Grand Central sessions, the crowds forming, the halal-fueled marathon workdays… it was all building toward the moment when that first DUMBO shoppe finally became real.