My name is Brock Rodman. I've always considered myself an artist, However I thought I had to go to school and get a degree to call myself an artist. After three semesters I realized that was not the case. Being an artist is a lifestyle, not just a title. It's a constant struggle you must enjoy through the good times and bad. To be a struggling artist has now become a cliche, but I have learned it is true. Once I dropped out of school I didn't know what to do with myself. I decided to hit the road, I packed a bag and started hitchhiking. I spent 11 months crisscrossing North America. The only thing more amazing than the things I saw, where the people I met. I'm like a sponge, thirsty to soak up all the experiences I can and use them to figure out who I am and what I want out of life. I'll turn 26 this year and all I am certain of is that I have no clue what I'm doing. However I know what I want; to focus on my art, although no solid grasp on how to make that a reality with all the strife life can throw at you. This is what I hope my art conveys; a pure struggle with emotion. I wrestle with life as I wrestle with paint I try to find meaning in myself as I try to find meeting in what I'm creating. Every day I face internal conflict and I have no choice but to let that bleed out of me when I put paint to a surface.