It may seem like a shameless plug or a bout of nepotism subsequent to his birthday, but I think it’s high time I publicly wrote about my brother, Christopher Lyles.
To me, he’s a brother, a mentor and a guy I exchanged one too many fisticuffs with when we were younger. He reigned victorious over me more often than not through the game console world of Colecovision, Nintendo 1.0, and Sega Genesis. He drew better, pitched the ball faster and had the ability to drum up far less enemies than I could. But as we got older, we ditched the competitive nature of adolescence and instead shared in the joys of creativity as we clawed at dreams and ventures both won and lost. We grew up, fell in love and moved apart, but never lost that connection that made us Lyles’ in the first place – a status that contracts as much mockery as it does accolades. And through all of our comings and goings, Chris kept the ability to believe in the one constant that has brought him to where he stands today. He is vested in art and its ability to move people.
It’s not a noble mission or a conscious decision to entertain. For Chris, it’s a gift that obsessively finds its way into everything he does. Like anything, a passion like that comes with a set of crutches and bruises, but at the end of each hour logged in the studio or on the sketch pad in the passenger seat of any moving car, his dedication is always producing something – something that makes people react.
34 years ago, this guy was launched into the world and today the person and the work he produces stands to build reason to why he is who he is. Now, with a beautiful family of his own, he continues to create for the world and for those that he doesn’t even know. Somewhere there is a kid looking at his work the same way Chris used to look at his artistic idols. Somewhere there are people being inspired by the stroke of his brush and the thoughts baked into each character he creates. I just thought this was a good time to tell him that I am one of those people.