Most of you know me as the guy yelling about crystals on Whatnot. The dealer with the dogs. The good time.

What you don't know is that all of this — Robbie's Rocks, the studio, the community — exists because of the worst stretch of my life.

It started with losing my dad. I was still figuring out how to be in a world without him when the tornado came. It took our house, our car, our business, and almost my life.

Neil and I came out alive, but barely.

I'd always been drawn to rocks and minerals. But after my dad and the tornado, that interest turned into something else. I'd hold a piece of fluorite or malachite and feel — I don't know how else to say it — like the ground was steady again.

Like the earth had been making beautiful things for millions of years, and somehow that mattered. That it kept going even when everything else had fallen apart.

That was the start of all of this. The collection grew, got out of hand, and eventually became something I could share. The live shows, the dogs in the chair, you being on this page right now — none of it exists without that low point.

So when I say I'm grateful you're here, I mean it. You're not customers. You're the proof that I made it through.