My name is John G. Martin. I live in Carefree, Arizona, and my origin story is that of revelation. Revelation of talent.

As a child coming home from grammar school, I was a latch-key kid as my parents worked. My brother was eight years older, my sister five, and they had their after-school activities, so I was home alone until they came home for dinner. I had the whole house to myself. My time alone taught me respect and responsibility as I was the little man of the house. I could decorate my room, create projects in my dad's workshop, play outside in the clubhouse my dad and I built, create objects from twigs and branches, yes, and even organize the family closets except for my sister’s. That was a no-no, but I did arrange her dressing table. My parents' only rule, "Clean up after you're finished," which taught me organization.

As a little boy, I had the intuition I was different. Didn't know why I felt that way, until one day my mother and I were shopping. Yes, I even liked to shop back then. I noticed two men holding hands. My mother looked at my bewildered face and said, "Do you have questions?" I said, "No." She said, "They are different, not in a bad way, but they are different. You are different in a creative way." That was the end of our conversation.

Later in life, I realized she was also different, a mother who did not judge but accepted. This taught me confidence and acceptance. Little did I know what all this meant until my young adult life, when my creativity became my work in fashion, floral design, interior design, artist, visionary, and out-of-the-box thinker. Today, in my 40 -plus years of creativity, reward me every day with the appreciation of parents who loved me, didn't quite understand me, but accepted me.

My origin box is filled with early photo memories of my Turner Martin design career, the revelation of my talents, the revelation of being accepted as unique.