It was the year 1977.  A little boy named Terrence was born. His parents probably had big plans for him, but at the age of three years -in his infinite wisdom-, he already made his own strategic plan to infinite happiness. He had no dreams about being a fire fighter, or a police officer, or a doctor. No sir, he wanted to fly planes. He wanted to be a pilot.

Because the authorities seemed to have a problem with toddlers flying planes AND because he had to give his parents some time to shell out the 100 grand to pay for his training, he started drawing planes at a young age. Sometimes on paper with crayons, but like some people play air guitar, he also drew planes, in the air air. People would catch him 'drawing' planes with his feet, on the ground while waiting in line at the grocery store, or in the sand on the beach. He often caught himself doing the same, but then with his thumbs on the inside of his index finger...

We fast forward to 2011. After a long (and expensive) endeavour the dream has come true. Flying planes, high in the sky, looking down on the world I live in, is the best job a person could have. Although one would think flying equals an unmatched sense of freedom, there are thousands of ICAO, FAA, JAA, local and company rules, laws, regulations and procedures that prohibit you from being creative high up in the sky. It's a good thing though, things would get real messy, really fast if not.

So whenever I'm back on the ground -safe and sound- I still find myself drawing planes. The paper, I replaced with a Wacom tablet, the crayons with a 1,024 levels sensitive pressured pen.

If you ever wondered why we choose to do planes, here's your reason. I don't like drawing in general. I like planes...