When asked about art school & other possible forms of formal training, Chizzle responds, “Honestly, I don’t remember going to school at all. I must have. Infact, one of the only school related memory I have is from my final week in elementary school. My teacher called me out of class & asked me to draw a hand. It seemed and odd request, but I was happy to do it. I remember her being very pleased, mostly because the fingernails included a cuticle. Regardless, she quickly changed the subject, intent upon informing me that in the following year, school may become different. Apparently she was worried that teachers wouldn’t necessarily enjoy & support my current habit of spending entire days drawing in class.” Chizzle takes a moment to let his story sink in. He reaches for his cup of coffee, taking a long, quiet sip, his eyes staying trained upon my own. He has me waiting. I assume there’s a deeper meaning. So, I continue to sit there quietly, staring between his eyes and his coffee cup. He ends the awkward silence, “As significant as that memory is, it did little to influence my future academic choices. Infact, drawing in class became such a staple to my creative process that years later, during a period tinged with ‘writers-block’, I considered returning to school purely out of desperation to re-stoke my creative flow. Heh, heh.”

People who laugh at themselves have always bugged me. Regardless, both of Chizzle’s current projects are illustrated comics. Both are admittedly quite funny, earning him the deserved title of, “humorist.” So, I let the laughing slide.

In the late 90’s, while Kurt Cobain was changing the world one minor-chord at a time, Chizzle was also busy in Seattle. “I was riding my bicycle everyday. Initially I trained w/ no idea of what or where I wanted to go. Literally. I’d head out on my bike with only one thing in mind, the desire to suffer. Hours would pass, significant suffering would ensue & eventually I’d find myself broken & satisfied. Most likely many, many miles from home. This is when the training that would eventually separate me from my competition would begin. In my exhausted state, still many miles from home, I’d have to refocus myself (most of this refocusing would include the vision of a big bowl, teaming with ice-cream.) I’d begin to slowly limp my bicycle towards home, each pedal stroke allowing my tolerance for pain to grow and grow and grow.”

Years later, Chizzle won a pair of prestigious awards. His legs, thin and fit from years of pushing his bicycle up and down the Seattle hills were awarded the 2002, “Razor Burn of the Year” award. Shortly thereafter, his entire being (bicycle included) won his State Championship title. Both a racing contract on an elite cycling team, and a Schick razor blade sponsorship followed.

The rest of Chizzle’s story has been captured within his comics, “QuickShot” and “Chronicles of NikWick.” Both are published exclusively here at Stoodio32.com