icon303 of Delray Beach on Life, Lessons & Legacy

We recently had the chance to connect with icon303 and have shared our conversation below.

Hi icon303, thank you so much for taking time out of your busy day to share your story, experiences and insights with our readers. Let’s jump right in with an interesting one: What are you most proud of building — that nobody sees?
I think the thing I am most proud of building is my life itself. Not the visible accomplishments or the surface level successes, but the quiet architecture of survival that exists beneath it all. There were weeks in upstate New York when I had nowhere to go. I slept beneath a bridge to shield myself from the snow, curled up on frozen ground with the sound of cars passing above me. I would wake up shivering so badly that I could hardly stand, and I would walk aimlessly just to feel warmth again. Those moments carved something deep inside me, a kind of internal foundation that no one sees but that everything I have built stands upon.

I think about those nights often. They taught me the value of time, the weight of gratitude, and the fragile beauty of simply existing. Now, when I look around and see what my life has become, it feels like I can be proud of everything I’ve built.

I have fifteen books out in the world, an art project that lives on the walls of people I have never met, a company that continues to grow and help others, and a family that gives my world color and meaning. I have a wife who believes in me completely and a little version of myself running around the house reminding me of everything I once hoped for. We have love, laughter, and the kind of peace I never thought I would have.

Sometimes I will catch myself looking at my family, at our home, at the art scattered across the walls, and I think back to that boy beneath the bridge, trembling under a blanket of snow. I think about how he would not have believed any of this was possible. That thought humbles me every single time. The truth is, what I have built that no one sees is not just a career or a brand. It is a life that rose out of the cold ground, a life I constructed with stubborn hope, one poem, one brushstroke, and one choice at a time.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is icon303. I am a poet, an artist, and an entrepreneur. I grew up rough in upstate New York, surrounded by chaos and struggle, where creativity became both my shield and my sword. I endured abuse, instability, and uncertainty, but through all of that I found an outlet in words and art. They became the language of my survival and later, the architecture of my success.

I write poetry that comes directly from the heart, unfiltered and unapologetic. My art is a reflection of raw emotion, often bending between beauty and pain, and my brand exists to amplify voices that deserve to be heard but rarely are. I have written fifteen books, released a major art project, and built a marketing and management company from the ground up.

Everything I do, whether it is a poem, a campaign, or a piece of visual art, is built around the same idea, that creativity should not just exist for personal expression but should also serve as a force of healing and empowerment. What makes my work unique is that it is not detached from life, it is life. Every line, every brushstroke, every decision is a direct continuation of everything I have lived through and everything I am still becoming.

Okay, so here’s a deep one: Who were you before the world told you who you had to be?
The truth is that I have always been myself. It was the world that kept trying to convince me that I was not allowed to be. I grew up in a family that did not understand art or creativity, where the idea of being expressive was seen as weakness. If your hands were not calloused and your body was not tired from labor, you were considered soft. I was that kid who wanted to skateboard, draw, write, and dream, and that was something my environment could not comprehend.

There were years when it felt like I had to defend the simple act of being who I was. But I never let go of that core. The world tried to mold me into something practical and predictable, and I refused. I held onto the strange, the imaginative, the parts that made me feel alive. In a sense, I have always been in rebellion against conformity, not out of anger, but out of a deep understanding that authenticity is sacred. So, when people ask who I was before the world told me who to be, I can honestly say, I was exactly who I am now. Just a quieter, more submissive version.

When you were sad or scared as a child, what helped?
My childhood was filled with moments of fear and sadness. I witnessed things that no child should have to see. My mother endured violent relationships, my father wrestled with alcoholism, and mental health issues cast long shadows across my home. We moved twelve times before I reached eighth grade, and every move felt like starting life over from scratch. It was like living in a constant state of survival, never knowing where peace might exist.

What saved me was creativity. Writing was my refuge, a place where I could create a world that made sense when the one around me did not. When the noise became too loud, I would write until it turned into rhythm, into poetry. Art gave me control over chaos. Music was another escape. It filled the empty spaces when words were not enough. And then there were the few friends who saw me, really saw me, when I felt invisible. Their kindness reminded me that love and beauty still existed.

But maybe the biggest thing that helped was this fire of rebellion that burned inside me even as a child. It was this inner voice that said, “You are not going to be a product of this pain.” That rebellion became my guide, the fuel that drove me to build a life beyond the one I was born into.

So a lot of these questions go deep, but if you are open to it, we’ve got a few more questions that we’d love to get your take on. Is the public version of you the real you?
The public version of me is absolutely real. It might be a more amplified version, a little louder, a little bolder, but it is still authentically me. When people see me on stage, in interviews, or through my art, they are seeing the same person that sits alone at night with a notebook and a dab rig trying to make sense of the world.

The difference is that the public version of me has learned to channel vulnerability into expression. I am not performing a character. I am simply allowing the truest parts of myself to exist without restraint. In private, I am more reflective, more analytical, but in public I let that energy flow outward. It is like another layer of the same truth. Every version of me, the artist, the father, the husband, the poet, the dreamer, they all come from the same core.

Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. When do you feel most at peace?
Peace for me is not a destination, it is a moment that appears like a small light in the noise of life. I find it in the quiet nights when my laptop is open and a blank document stares back at me, waiting to be filled. My son is stretched out on the couch with the dog beside him, my wife is sitting across from me with a glass of champagne, the soft sound of life moving gently around us. That is peace.

It is not about perfection or silence, it is about alignment. The feeling that everything, even just for a brief moment, is where it should be. In those moments I feel whole, balanced between the chaos of creation and the calm of love. That is when I can breathe deeply and remind myself that everything I have built, everything I have survived, has led me to that exact second. That is peace to me, the quiet heartbeat of a life that finally feels like my own.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.icon303.com
• Instagram: @icon303
• Youtube: @icon303_
• Other: https://www.iconmarketingmanagement.com