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I grew up in a small, remote northwestern town in Canada called Amos. Empty streets and a lot of boxes. As far back as I can remember, I felt extremely alone and isolated. I just couldn’t fit in to any of the boxes. Late into lonely nights under my grandmother's roof, where I was being babysat more often than not, I would stare at the paintings hung on her walls and be lifted into fantasy, leaving behind a grey, villagey monotony. Ripe with blissful innocence, somehow the two-dimensional souls understood me more profoundly than the three-dimensional ones in my actual life.When I was 14 years old, my parents took me on a trip to Mexico that would shape me irreversibly. All of a sudden, I had a purpose. My life had revealed its meaning to me. I was going to travel. More than anything, I needed to connect with people of a different background and culture. Evolve as a human through living the world.Only three years after that trip, at 17 years old, I managed to leave what I called home with empty pockets and full spirit. I moved to Banff, Alberta and learned some english before hitchhiking through the U.S down to the border of Mexico, followed by Central America. Since then, I managed to “stay” on the road. I never knew what sort of a living would sustain that, but I found ways to stay free, from waitressing night and day to working with an NGO.In my free time, I would draw portraits of people around and away from me. The constant has and always will be young women. The mo