The Origins: How This Series Began
My introduction to WWE wasn’t casual—it was instant obsession.
I still remember the night vividly. My sister’s dad had the remote, flipping back and forth between highlights of the recent Tyson vs. Holyfield II fight and what, at the time, was my first-ever glimpse into another form of entertainment—something I would later learn was WWE Raw, my gateway into the WWE universe.
He was locked in on the boxing match—the stakes, the shock, the chaos of what was unfolding.
But every time he flipped the channel back to WWE, something else was happening... something was happening to me.
It only took a few frames.
That’s all I needed to completely let go of everything else—what I was seeing in the room, and what the rest of the world was reacting to in that boxing match. While he stayed fixated on the raw brutality of boxing, I was being pulled into a different kind of world—one filled with larger-than-life characters like Stone Cold Steve Austin, The Undertaker, Kane, The Rock, and Sable.
Looking back, that moment makes perfect sense.
As a kid who didn’t connect with traditional sports or hyper-masculine spaces, WWE gave me something different—storytelling, theatrics, design, and personality, all inside a “sport.”
It became a gateway. It was sport, but expansive. It was performance, but accessible. There was flamboyance. There was drama. There were bold, expressive characters that stretched beyond what I thought sports could be. It was design. It was artistry. It was theatrics.
It wasn’t about seeing myself directly—it was about seeing possibility. A version of competition that made room for personality, storytelling, and out-of-this-world design scapes.
In contrast, what happened in the boxing ring felt real in a way that unsettled me. Even then, I could sense the difference between violence as performance and violence as reality—and it pulled me closer to the world that felt designed, intentional, and immersive.
From that point on, I was hooked.
For years—birthdays, Christmases, any chance I got—I was building my own version of WWE. New figures became cast members. Rings were never just rings—they were reimagined into entirely new stages. TitanTron toys that came in sets became design challenges.
I’d pause VHS tapes just to sketch entrance graphics frame by frame, cutting and remixing them into something new.
Without realizing it, I was already doing the work: directing, designing, producing.
WWE wasn’t just something I watched. That night changed the trajectory of what my career now stands to be.
It was something I rebuilt.
So now I reimagine. Reimagine the moments that shaped me through the lens of what became me.
This project is a year-long creative exploration—a return to the origin point. It’s about revisiting the moments that shaped my creative instincts and reimagining them through the lens of who I am now: an experiential creative director with a deep understanding of storytelling, culture, and brand integration.
It’s also about honoring that contrast—the tension between reality and performance, masculinity and expression, sport and spectacle—that made WWE resonate so deeply with me in the first place.
It didn’t just entertain me. It gave me a creative language before I had one.
To give you a peek of the magic that captivated, enjoy one of my fav moments below. Narrative, theatrics, chaos, design and produced to a tee!
Comments