During his formative years, Gabriel fancied himself as a future portrait painter. As a young, curious, yet shy artist, he used portrait drawing as a means to connect with others. As he came of age the act of recording, attempting to understand, and attending to people around him seemed to be a disarming social strategy.

“Ever since before I could walk, I drew and observed attentively; I gazed curiously out at the world – or so my mother tells me. As I aged I learned that humans have peculiar politics over how one’s eyes should properly behave. Looking upon another being even without the exchange of words, is a highly revealing affair. So much that ‘polite society’, such as it is, has deemed it to be rude to gaze, stare, or otherwise show visual interest to strangers – or even friends and relatives for that matter. I learned as the years went on, that armed with a pencil and paper, I could stare at anyone without consequences. It is my experience – and highly likely yours – that most people break eye contact within seconds upon realizing that they are gazing upon a conscious entity that is also regarding them in return. Locking eyes with another being can induce anxiety, a heightened state of self-consciousness – it makes us acutely aware of being observed by another beacon of consciousness. It is a mystery what is in the minds of our observers; Do they mean us harm? Wellness? Indifference? It is, in this line of thought, perhaps best not to look, to keep to one’s self, politely indifferent. And yet, add a pencil and paper to the voyeuristic activity, and more often than not – once you’re discovered to be drawing – you’re suddenly likely to be the most interesting thing that has happened to that person all day. The graphite and parchment was a free ticket to observe human faces without repercussions.”