The Mouse That Remembered Me

These aren’t just characters. These are anchors.

While I was forgetting who I was, Mickey didn’t forget me.

He showed up in flash days, pancakes, blankets, stickers, tattoos, drawings, earrings, and inside jokes.

Clients started calling me the Mickey King.

I didn’t plan that.

But when I look back now, I can see it:

Mickey was there when I needed to create without overthinking.

He reminded me of joy when I couldn’t find it in anything else.

And Rockwell? He was the first artist that ever moved me.

Both of them show up here; not as fan art, but as fossils from my foundation.