Back in the early 90s I worked as an AutoCad draftsman to pay the bills and drive around in a fancy car. I had always been an artist, but since I also have OCD about perfecting lines I didn't have a hard time making a good wage with drafting. I really enjoyed creating intricate wireframes and floorplans. I think I took a break from art for about 12 years after that and focused solely on digital design. When I finally came back to my art I realised I hadn't grown as an artist, much to my surprise. So, I started trying to perfect my lines once again but with a much more unstable hand. I couldn't appreciate the flaws or the messiness that gave my pieces character and I would see many of them as failures. I started to realize I had lost the plot altogether because drawing was becoming a chore and probably why I quit many years before.
So, I decided to go the opposite direction entirely and throw paint and splatter ink intentionally trying to break me out of the box I found myself in. Forcing myself to make intentionally messy lines, adding more and then just when I think I am done with something I end up taking 10 or so more jabs at it just for the hell of it. Then I'd think... well, just one more. Done. I realised I enjoyed art much more when I felt free to make mistakes. That in fact the mistakes were every bit as much of the art as the parts I tried making perfect. And you can clearly see the evolution of my art as it begins one way and then becomes something entirely different today. Thus giving birth to Dirty Lines.
And it's also given me a lot of opportunities to put my shit handwriting to good use.