Some stories unfold slowly, without a clear path, mine is one of them

Not in a dramatic way, but looking back, it’s crazy to think how far I’ve come. I was a quiet, very shy kid who got picked on, unsure of myself and unsure of my place in the world around me. Then one day in 7th grade, after years of being picked on and beat up in school, I somehow found the confidence to step onto the mat at the dojo where my father was training. The instructors in that school looked like superheroes to my young brain. They not only took me under their wing and taught me technique, but also guided me to develop self-discipline, a confident mindset, and compassionate life values. Over the years, from NY, NJ, and NYC, I traveled, competed, and trained in countless dojos and competitions, learning, competing, and growing with every moment and this is when everything changed.

That moment started a lifelong journey of growth, discipline and self-discovery. Martial arts gave me the confidence to stand tall. Eventually, I began teaching and in 1985 I opened Malandra’s Martial Arts Center. What started in a YMCA grew into something much bigger: a place to help others find their strength the same way I found mine.

At the same time, I was exploring another part of myself, the artist. I’ve always been drawn to the way light moves through a landscape, the rhythm of a city street, the silence of nature. Photography became my second language. It was another kind of training, learning to be still, to see and to connect. I remember laying belly-down at the edge of a thousand foot cliff to photograph the Colorado River’s Horseshoe Bend, or waking at 5 a.m. to photograph the Wall Street Bull in silence, drawn to the symbolism and early morning stillness.

Art became even more personal during difficult times, like when my mom got sick. I didn’t know how to process everything I was feeling, so I turned to creating through painting and photography. Each helped me express emotions that felt too complex or personal to put into words.

Over the years, I’ve blended all these paths. The discipline I learned on the mat flows into every photograph I take and every painting I create. It’s all about presence, flow, and truth.

For nearly three decades and counting, I’ve also worked security and logistics for comedian Andrew Dice Clay. That part of my life showed me how to stay calm under pressure, read energy fast, and stay grounded in the chaos. The road taught me how to think on my feet, communicate clearly, and adjust to whatever came my way.

While martial arts and art remain my deepest passions, I also enjoy playing guitar. Music gives me another creative outlet, one that reflects the same sense of focus, feeling, and flow I bring to my work behind the lens and on the mat. That’s what I try to capture.

I’ve hiked into remote canyons, stood under waterfalls in Kauai, captured candlelit prayer ceremonies in Bhutan, and sat in silence watching the light shift across the red rocks of Sedona. I’ve painted late into the night and helped kids believe in themselves before they even knew how to throw a punch.

What ties it all together? Soul, discipline, curiosity, and the belief that we all have something powerful to offer if we just stay present, positive, and keep showing up.

That’s what I try to share through my images, my paintings, my teaching, and my story.

Thanks for being a part of it.

Michael