From the Sand Pit to Sketchbook: A Boot Camp Story That Brought Me Back to Art

I don't have the original drawing, so this is my version of it.

When I was in Marine Corps boot camp, something strange happened.
I was enjoying it.

The struggle? Real.
The exhaustion? Constant.
The yelling? Next-level.
But I was there for a reason—I wanted to earn the title United States Marine. And I knew not everyone had what it took.

At one point, I was caught doing something I shouldn’t have been doing.
Not breaking a rule.
Not being disrespectful.
I was… sketching.

I had drawn something in a book—probably to keep myself awake. That little act caught the attention of my senior drill instructor. And let's just say—he wasn’t impressed.

Next thing I knew, I was in the sand pit, getting “educated.”
Up-downs.
Push-ups.
Burpees.
Sand in places it shouldn’t be.

Later that night, back in the squad bay, I got pulled aside. I thought I was in for round two.
But instead, I was asked:

"Are you a good artist?"

Caught off guard, I answered:
I think so."

Then came the assignment: design the platoon placard.

The Art That Brought Everyone Together

The placard wasn’t just a decoration—it was a symbol of who we were. Something that lived on the squad bay wall. Something that represented the pain, pride, and identity of our platoon.

My design?
A skull burning in hell, mouth wide open, flames pouring out.
From that mouth flowed a river of blood—twisting, raging, symbolic of the struggle we all endured.

But there was a detail that tied it all together.

In that river, I drew floating scuzz brushes—the very same ones we used to scrub floors on our hands and knees. Every recruit wrote their name on their brush. It was how we kept track of them.

By drawing them into the river, I made sure a little piece of everyone was part of the design.

That drawing… it became a point of pride. It gave me a job. It gave me identity. It reminded me that even in the middle of transformation—I was still an artist.

And today, whether I’m designing homes, creating brands, or telling stories—I bring that same mindset:

Honor the journey. Embrace the struggle. Make art out of it.