My name is Matthew Joseph Branham, 23, originally from central Illinois. Worldly, I have been known to spark a good conversation, make the occasional timely joke, and burn the midnight oil. I sometimes consume more Guinness than someone my size should. I am the "pioneer" and sore thumb that sticks out of my family, and I have spent the last three years adventuring outside of my comfort zone, loving new things and becoming less naive about the world. Now in California, I spend my days experiencing what fruits life has to bear, as well as many hours at the local dog park with the fair-haired love of my life, my dog Layla, as well as looking for a parking spot.

 At home I have two very great, very supportive parents, as well as an older sibling in Chicago. My father helps manage a construction conglomerate known as United Contractors Midwest, and now he drives a corvette much to my mother's dismay. She is the coordinator for a religious program at my old elementary school, molding young minds into children who will later reside in the most spotless of apartments, much the same as she did for my brother and I. My brother, John, works in marketing for SmithBucklin in downtown Chicago and is planning relocation to Austin.

 As a child, I invested much of my time into sports of all sorts, mainly basketball and baseball. I was an honor roll student at a Catholic grade school, and I can support that with my many, many bumper stickers. There I learned about state capitals, saltwater taffy and girls. Once I entered the halls of adolescence, I took interest in new things that were not always accessible in a private school. I remember listening to "just watch the fireworks" off jimmy eat world's "clarity" album, wondering where it was I had been for the last 15 years. I found myself bombarded by the likes of art, live music and the late night toilet papering of houses in need of a better decor. 

 At age 15, my creative process took stage. Subconsciously, I took to writing constantly, almost as if it were second nature from the beginning. It started out as rhyming poems, haikus and rants about love, loss and the occasional urge for everything frozen treats. With the writing came the doodling, which slowly evolved into some sort of sloppy art form. On my seventeenth birthday, I got my first guitar, a sweet shining green electric Schecter. With it came an immense and overwhelming feeling of joy, followed immediately by an overwhelming feeling of confusion. I figured if I was going to write, it's best to have this, as opposed to a drum set which would have destroyed my mother's sanity, along with the burden of transporting the equipment. My friend Eric & I would write a handful of songs and poems during what I can only assume was math class, then we traded and wrote on top of each other's, crossing out things and adding new ideas, then exchanging back. That kept me waking up for school for a decent period of time. I wrote about everything under the sun, and some things above until my sock drawer was full and I ran out of words to use. From there, I took a hiatus and went to college.

 College was nothing like I expected, mostly because I had seen too many reruns of saved by the bell: the college years and spent the first two years searching the campus and dorms for Kelly Kapowski. On day one, I was presented with a list of occupations I could potentially possess in four years time, but nothing on the list popped out at me, except advertising and graphic design, so I checked that box. I learned a lot about nothing, never too aroused when it came to western Russian history. It wasn't until my third year that I took a few art classes which awoke something in me and showed me new techniques to give my pencils a much needed rest, helping put the spark back in my love life with art. But after three years, I found myself in a rut, much better creatively and musically, but stuck with the feeling of quicksand between my toes; as if I wasn't making the headway I had hoped for. But I did learn to cook!

 So in the summer of 2005, I packed up my little red car with my little tailless cocker spaniel and moved to Arizona, just to break routine and get some excitement back in life by trying what I had never experienced. That year I went down the path less traveled, and I learned why people do not travel on those paths, because they are not safe and you can fall and get hurt, like with your legs caught between a fence in a less than graceful jump on the way back from the pool after a night of pure raw debauchery leaving you blacked out and in shock simultaneously. After a string of mishaps and ill-fated attempts with new friends, my journey alone to the unknown and my journey as a student had ended. Besides the few good people in that state and decently priced sushi, I elected that we force Arizona to separate from the United States and change its name to 'Newest Mexico'.

 Fast-forward to 2008 and here I sit in front of this computer on its last leg, or whatever is it holding this thing up. I am fascinated that by sitting in front of this box I am able to search for places to live in Venice, follow-up on jobs I am interested in, send a nice note to my mother, "download" family guy episodes, listen to the latest Coldplay single, look at risqué photographs from the previous weekend, and rattle out this pointless life history of myself all at the same time, amazing! But, that been said, I find it a necessary evil when creating a website dedicated completely to myself.

 Creatively, I like to think I am in the world's epicenter for inspiration, a place where all walks and wheels of life stroll by daily on these tattered, worn down streets. It's almost as if I had never written anything before, or drawn anything to inspire words before, because there is so much to see and do here that I am just now experiencing, for the first time, my mind is getting the spins just contemplating the ideas. I often know what I want, problem being is that I thrive on inspiration and seeing creativity in everything. Once a place or thing loses that inspiration, I go looking for the next big brainstorm.  

If what I am seeing is true, I have finally landed on the holy grail, where comfort and familiarity couldn't be further away. As soon as I unpack my life from its many boxes, I will return to my endless process of absorbing and outletting my surroundings onto paper, canvas or dark alley walls until my hand goes numb just like the 15 year old in me did. I will wake up with the sun and ride my bike, surf until I learn to quit hitting myself in the face with the board and teach my dog how to be the perfect icebreaker with California's lovely beach bunnies. I see this being a place that I can grow to love, live in forever and never completely understand it. It's a lot like women in that respect. Only time will tell. Meanwhile, I will continue to do my best to find beauty in the mundane, excitement in the routine and eat lots of spicy tuna!

 If there is one thing I have learned in recent years, it is to always move towards things that you are passionate about and help define who you are, and it will lead you to new things you never thought could be a part of what makes you. Pursuing said things will leave you with a good feeling inside (much like with frozen treats) and with that, everything falls into place... your job, your closest friends, your loved ones and once you have everything you could ever want, you'll realize and be glad you started it by doing something that you're passionate about. I'm going to make that into a tee shirt. So long!