Well, here's a bit of a rambling overview about me..
I grew up on the East coast of Australia, in a small coastal town called Laurieton. My parents owned a couple of Bakeries in town, which kept everyone supplied with endless strawberry milk and free meat pies.
Most arvos, weekends and holidays I'd hang around the local dive shop.. or fishing shed.. or beach. I loved being around water, going for a surf or diving for abalone and lobster. I wasn't that keen on fishing but I really liked hearing all the weird stories from the crusty old fishos. One of my uncles was a super keen fisherman, with secret spots and a ton of trophies. He used to crack on about run-ins with waterspouts and sharks and a fat white whale he'd see every other year ( later verified as an albino right whale, that was weirdly actually really real and not at all a sign of brain broiled sunstroke ).
Through school I was into biology, english and art. Every now and then I'd start some sort of little artistic enterprise. Sometimes for money or free stuff; like designing shirts for merch, painting signs for free dives or selling drawings of Duckula on the bus. Other times it was just for fun; like making Mad magazine knock-offs, sculpting characters out of FIMO or writing lamo-not-funny scripts for radio shows or movies.
I went to an Art college in Sydney. It was freezing until I figured out I had to buy long pants ( ..rather than always wearing quick-dry boardshorts. Which I always wore in the often realised hope that I'd stumble across an opportunity for a cheeky dive or surf ).
College was fun. I stayed in a lot of really terrible cheap-arse flats.. with really terrible cheap-arse flat mates.
After college I worked as a Graphic Designer at a couple of small places. One of them, at Avoca, allowed me to stroll along the beach to work every morning ( sometimes after a surf if I was keen ) and had a great burger joint nearby with a tiny pinny parlour jammed in a side room. I learnt a lot about how to waste precious plates of film by constantly spelling February wrong. Old laconic pre press guys really know how to give a solid withering stare.. combine that with an exasperated head shake and you swear to god you'll never spell anything wrong ever again.. until you do.. like a day later.
ah.. well that's enough for now.. especially since our kids are super quiet right now.. which is always deeply suspicious.