Growing up in the era of the CD, my dad thankfully got me into vinyl. I love everything about it, from the pops and clicks and the ritual of dropping the needle to the blue sticky stuff to weigh down the tone arm just right and the smell of a record cabinet. When I was a teenager, I was dividing my free time between art classes and used record stores when something clicked. I took one of my many salvaged and beaten old Sgt. Pepper albums and put brush to groove. As digital music took over, friends suggested I start selling my work. There was an immediate response, probably related to the lack of something to hold of today's format. After a few group shows, word of mouth, and the growth of social media, it all started to come together. Along the way, I had the privilege to paint pieces for the David Lynch Foundation auction, a VH1 gallery show, and have had my art become part of the Hard Rock Hotel vibe. I've loved being able to give back to the culture, to say thank you with what I do. So, spinning vinyl is hip again, yet something like 40% of vinyl being bought never even gets played. There's something about the tangibility of the memories, a physical thing, which lends itself to expanding collections. My work fills a niche, and makes for a cool wall of art. Music has always been a big part of our identity, cultural and individual. Sharing that love of music has always made friends out of strangers and created a community. So we gather. And see the music.