By the time I was 17 years old, I grew angry and disillusioned at how my country treated its farmers (in time I learned that kicking those who feed us in the teeth, was a commune practice all over the world. Go figure). For reasons I don’t remember now (probably bad literature ), I decided that the freedom I was looking for could be found in Africa so I moved there. For the next ten years of my life, I lived, traveled, and worked in South Africa, Angola, Mozambique, Namibia, Egypt, Israel, Turkey, Greece, Italy, Germany, France, Monaco, Spain, and Portugal. By the time I turned 27 (2001), I grew a brain and came to the United States of America. After my father passed away, I began making knives again and I rediscovered how much I love doing it. I can honestly say that since I started making knives for a living, I never worked again.