This idea didn’t come to me in a boardroom or some late night hustle session. It came from grief. From a kind of pain that sits in your bones long after the world forgets why you're quiet.

When my brother passed, the world didn’t stop. But the God’s honest truth is, mine did. What stayed with me weren’t things. It was moments. Long talks, shared silence, the kind of laughter that lingers in the back of your mind when everything else goes quiet. Those memories are currency no wallet holds. That kind of wealth doesn’t fade.

So I built this. Not just face paint. A ritual. A reason to reconnect. A bridge between brothers, family, and friends who may drift but never really leave your heart.

This isn’t about covering up. It’s about holding on. To the moments that shape us. To the people who built us. To the memories that never let go.

Because in the end, it’s the memories that matter. The ones made in the mud, in the quiet, and in the time spent with the people we never forget.

This paint is just the beginning.