I found TDxL early and moved fast. Whatever he made, bidders, editions, 1-of-1s, animations, I wanted it in the vault. I said it out loud one night: all of his pieces, going into along7. He runs zero-reserve auctions, starts every one at nothing and trusts the room to show up, and I love that kind of nerve. Twenty-eight of them are here now.

The figures are the first thing you notice. They are faceless, always, a smear or a blank where the features should be. It reads at first like a style choice. It is not.

Then he wrote out where the work comes from, and everything reorganized around it. He has drawn since he was a kid, says the talent runs in his mother's family, but he drifted away from it in his twenties and did not understand, until much later, that drawing had been his therapy the whole time. Turning thirty hit him hard: severe anxiety, depressive episodes, years of work to climb back out. Coming through it, he found his way back to the pen, and he calls it the best healing he could imagine.

Around the same time he found NFTs, and he started making again in an abstract style he traces straight to Basquiat. Anxiety is the theme, stated plainly. He says he wants to be a voice for the people who are suffering, to show them healing is possible, and the faces are blank on purpose so the person in the frame could be anyone. Could be you. His whole argument is that life is not always perfect, there are dark stretches, but there is always hope somewhere in the picture. And, he will happily tell you, he loves the color red.

That is why I took all of it. Not because it was a safe bet, but because a person put his own healing on the wall and asked, quietly, whether anyone else felt it too. I did, and I wanted the whole run kept in one place, in the order he made it.