I have begrudgingly included this page where you can learn a

little bit about me *sigh*.  

 

I grew up in Santa Fe, New Mexico

and Southern California, and have since moved to countless

places in search of  the perfect city (or so I like to think).  I started

drawing and creating at an early age—being an only child,

sometimes you have to entertain yourself with cardboard

boxes and crayons. I started taking art classes when I

was seven, and have been ever since (taking classes, not seven).

The biggest influence throughout my creative journey has been

Japan. 

 

I love music, and my absolute favorite is David Bowie.

I have converted lots of my friends into fans, I even had the honor to see him perform live a few times.  I am also convinced that if I ever met Mindy Kaling or Sofia Coppola, we would immediately

become best friends forever. 

 

I used to love impressionism,

but eventually got bored with it and turned to more modern artists. When you see a Jackson Pollock up close and

look—really look—it is amazing. The first time you stand next to a larger-than-life Warhol or Lichtenstein, it takes your breath away.

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I suppose you want to know what the deal is with “Mokipotpie.”  Well, I’ll tell you.  Being part Japanese, one tends to collect more than their fair share of cutesy plunder.  One such item I acquired was a set of super cute Japanese stationery illustrated with a character named “Moki Moki P. Monkey.”  After seeing it, my friends started calling me “Moki.”  Because this nickname was bestowed upon me my first year of college (a time when you make all sorts of new acquaintances) the name stuck.  With all of my friends, variations on given nicknames are a must.  Moki turned into "Moki-nawa," "Mok-a-chino" and finally "Mokipotpie."

Now, Mokipotpie is a place that I’ve created to showcase all of my projects, and to share my creations with others.  I hope you like it.

 

So if you’re still reading this (and haven’t fallen out of your chair in a bored coma), I will leave you with one final word of wisdom handed down from my father.  While skiing with him in Japan at the tender age of eight, I fell and kept crying.  In an effort to cheer me up, he shouted “Don’t  cry!  You Japanese!!!”  This just made me cry harder.