Tar's Personal Artwork

Finding Inspiration in Every Turn

As a young boy growing up in Detroit, I was often encouraged to keep drawing. People would tell me, "You seem to have some talent; maybe you should go to art school when you get the chance."

However, this was easier said than done. I grew up in a fatherless home, where my mother was a homemaker. I worked as a paperboy, and my income helped to pay the rent.

Then one day, my father moved back into our home, and it seemed my dreams might actually become achievable. However, his PTSD soon became overwhelming and he turned to alcohol. One Friday evening, during another argument over rent money, he raised his hand and broke one of my mother's fingers. When I stepped in to protect her, he punched me in the mouth, knocking my front teeth back. The next morning, at the age of 15, I decided to leave home for good.

I stayed with a friend while continuing to attend school. To make money, I became a sign artist, painting storefront windows with advertisements. I earned a few cents per word, usually 10 or 25 cents, by highlighting items for sale inside the stores.

My Story Continues

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