Seattle: My Spirit City
Humility, Humor, and Honesty
Seattle has a special way of grounding me and firing up my imagination all at once. The culture, the people, the mist of the coastline, and the evergreen atmosphere—it all feels like an out-of-body experience. For a guy who lives in the desert and listens to rain sounds for inspiration, Seattle is nothing short of magic. There’s something about the Pacific Northwest that demands you to adapt and inspires you to let go of expectations.
Maybe that’s part of why I love it so much. Life, like Seattle, isn’t about waiting for perfect conditions—it’s about grabbing the right gear and stepping into the rain. Andrea and I try to carry this mindset with us, especially when it comes to raising our kids. Sure, traveling as a family is messy, chaotic, and full of “Well, that didn’t work” moments. But we’ve found that bringing Hudson and Haddie along on adventures—muddy trails, rainy days, and all—teaches them grit, creativity, and an appreciation for the world that you just can’t get from a YouTube channel or even the best book.
This trip was more than just another family vacation. It was a moment of reconnection, a chance to revisit a place that’s deeply rooted in my story. Sitting on the beach at Golden Gardens, listening to the waves of the Salish Sea rolling in, I couldn’t help but think back to the younger version of myself who sat here over 20 years ago, fresh out of art school. Back then, the horizon seemed hazy, and the future unclear.
This time, though, the view was sharper. I was here with my family—tossing a football with Hudson, watching Haddie comb the beach for pieces of the ocean’s story in sea glass and shells. I looked over at Andrea, sitting on a large pale piece of driftwood, gazing off and resurrecting dreams of her own. I sat beside her, and without saying a word, we shared a moment of gratitude. That moment meant everything to me, as I know it did for her. I couldn’t help but imagine us here 20 years from now, reflecting and dreaming of what’s still to come.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to appreciate how rare it is to find people who truly shape your journey. Chris Farrar is one of those people for me. Twenty years ago, when I was rough around the edges and trying to find my way through art school, Chris took a chance on me at his screen printing shop, Stonefly Designs.
Chris didn’t just teach me a trade. He shared life lessons through stories filled with humor, humility, and honesty. His talent for connecting through storytelling is his true superpower. Chris saw potential in me beyond screen printing and encouraged me to chase my passion for design, even if it meant leaving Seattle. Years later, he remains a trusted friend and mentor, continually reminding me of the power of reinvention and the importance of moving forward with authenticity. When you share your vulnerabilities, you feel seen, and understood, and it inspires you to grow.
During this trip, I had the chance to introduce Hudson and Haddie to Chris. They’d been asking, “What exactly do you do, Dad?” So I thought, why not show them? I walked them through my illustration process, from brainstorming ideas and gathering reference material to cleaning up sketches on a light table (yes, I know it’s old-school) and digitizing the artwork for print. Chris invited us into his shop, teaching the kids as they made their own screens and printed their designs on shirts. Watching him guide them with the same humor and warmth he once showed me was beyond heartwarming. It’s a memory I know we’ll all carry with us.
Moments like these remind me that memories aren’t just snapshots—they’re defined by the way we choose to see them. Life is made up of tiny, ordinary moments that hold massive impact when we pause to reflect. The beach in Seattle, those quiet moments with Andrea, Chris’s mentorship, and all the small steps in between—they all reinforce the importance of pushing forward, even when the destination isn’t clear.
So here’s to the journey, to staying limber, and to keeping our minds open. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that when we show up and keep our eyes peeled, life has a unique way of opening doors at the perfect time.