My proclivity for art direction probably started when my gang and I broke into a vacant, recently purchased house. Under my guidance, we proceeded to paint angels and "Welcome!" all over the walls with red paint. I thought it was a very nice gesture. I got whooped. No one understood. 

I was 7. 

I loved my gang. We were scrappy, foul-mouthed, and missing teeth. But we were inseparable. Together we made the best forts that harbored stray kittens, comic books, and buckets of paint. Our anthems were "Wild Thing" and "Unchained Melody" (Ghost was a popular movie at the time). We were just a bunch of big-hearted, tiny rebels, and I'm pretty much the same now as I was then, except with more teeth.