Alimo started out when I was a kid whether I knew it or not. I’d draw weird scribbly lines and create ceramics that felt cool. It was a brain dump of my imagination onto any medium. A fun sport to create stuff just for me. It was rad.

I’d religiously read Snowboarder and Thrasher Magazine as a grom. The stuff they were creating mesmerized and inspired me. I didn’t understand how they did these graphics, but I’d try and replicate everything from home movies of me and my friends skating to sketching out logos from the mag in my school binder.

When I grew up from a rugrat to an older human, I headed to art school to explore all the fun stuff of making. Throughout school, we’d present our work and dive deep into the critique. One day, a classmate came in right before a presentation. He had a white canvas and pulled out his sharpie to draw a black dot right smack in the middle. He then walked into class. Over the next hour, he walked us through his entire project convincing all of us that this was ‘art.’ It was brilliant. I was baffled. It made me bummed on school though. I spent months on my project while this student made it in just a few seconds. His concept was so powerful it changed my foundation and the way I think about every project still to this day.

Next term, my professor asked everyone to create a skateboard brand. At the time, I was still fired up on this last students ‘art’. I wanted to create a brand that meant nothing in spite of art school but specifically this prior project. One day, I went to Urban Dictionary and typed in the words, ‘means nothing.’ Alimo popped up. It was perfect. A week later, I checked the site and the definition was gone. That day, Alimo was born. I had a name that meant nothing, but in actuality this concept meant everything.

This name kept on going after the school project. I started to use this as my company name and avatar pitching ideas to surf brands after college. I drew illustrations and slowly learned the ropes of the biz in the surf world. Over the years, Alimo faded away. My ideas were getting pushed onto other companies and that satisfaction to create for myself dwindled away.

Last year, I quit all of my freelance jobs to recreate Alimo. To bring it back to life. To create for myself and bring everything back to my upbringing. This was skating. This was traveling. Friends. Family. Surfing. Snowboarding. Creativity. To draw playful humans being rad.