Path to Prosek: Creativity, Skateboarding, and the Art of Seeing What’s Possible

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been drawn to the edges—the places where things aren’t quite perfect, where the cracks in the pavement hold stories, and where there’s always a little mischief in the air. Whether it was rummaging through flea markets for forgotten treasures or spotting the beauty in the most unlikely of places, I’ve always been more fascinated by what could be, rather than what is.

That’s how I see design. A dance between control and chaos, logic and magic. It’s the rhythm that has shaped my career as a creative director, educator, and (somewhat accidental) entrepreneur. Crafting visual stories, curating experiences, and bringing ideas to life in ways that leave a lasting mark.

Punk Rock, Skateboarding, and the DIY Mindset

Punk rock, skateboarding, and comics rewired my brain—shaping how I see the world, how I think, how I create. The moment I could hold a pencil, I started scribbling. And I never stopped. I doodled superheroes leaping off the pages of my math book, sketched band logos across my school folders, and spent hours trying (and failing) to land skateboard tricks on a wobbly ramp outside my house.

Skateboarding, especially, shaped my approach to creativity. Every street was a playground, every curb an opportunity. It wasn’t just about landing a trick; it was about seeing possibilities where others saw obstacles. You experiment, you fall, you tweak, and then—boom—you finally land something new.

At 14, I designed a logo for a local snowboard shop. Didn’t think much of it at the time, but next thing I knew, my work was on stickers, signage, and gear. Looking back, it was my first real design gig—an accidental step into a world I didn’t even know existed. (I mean, I still wasn’t sure what kerning was, but let’s not get caught up in the details.)

Through it all, my parents championed every pivot, encouraging me to chase whatever caught my curiosity. That same DIY, figure-it-out-as-you-go energy still drives me today.

Learning from the Legends

Fast-forward a few years, and I landed at the School of Visual Arts in New York City where it was like stepping into a creative wonderland. Professors like Carin Goldberg, Michael Kaye, and Sara Giovanitti didn’t just teach design; they blew the doors off what I thought it could be.

It wasn’t just about making things look cool (though that was a bonus). It was about problem-solving, storytelling, and creating something that sticks with people.

I fell hard for graphic design, photography, illustration, film, and branding. If there was a way to make something more thoughtful, more unexpected, more impactful, I wanted in.

From Design Rookie to Accidental Boss

First stop after university? Pentagram. It was like a master’s degree in design, except with real clients, real deadlines, and real stakes. I had the privilege of working with icons like Paula Scher, Abbott Miller, and Woody Pirtle, learning firsthand that great design isn’t just about talent—it’s about pushing ideas further. Way further.

Then, one day, the partner I worked for decided it was time to retire. And just like that, it was time for me to move on too.

So, I pivoted to freelancing, picking up projects with Time Inc., The New York Times, and WIRED. One gig led to another. I leased an office, hired a designer, took on an intern, registered an LLC, and before I knew it, I was running a full-fledged studio. That “accidental entrepreneur” phase spanned 12 years, collaborating with brands and institutions like the American Museum of Natural History, Cannes Lions, and the Nakamura Keith Haring Collection.

But eventually, I was ready for something bigger. Something beyond the walls of a traditional studio.

Teaching, Mentoring, and Watching the Lightbulbs Turn On

Somewhere along the way, I found myself back at SVA. But this time, I wasn’t a student—I was the teacher.

What started as a side hustle, quickly became an obsession. Since 2009, I’ve taught over 650 students in Basic Graphic Design, Designing with Typography, and Graphic Design Portfolio. Running a studio was an adventure. But teaching? That was a whole new kind of thrill.

Creativity is a cycle—learning, making, failing, tweaking, figuring it out again. I love helping students push through the tough parts, embrace the weird, and chase that elusive “aha” moment. Watching them go from frustrated to fired up, from lost to ohhh, I got this never gets old. It’s like skateboarding—every great trick starts with a few slams.

And the best part? So many of my former students have gone on to places like Apple, Collins, Buck, Google, Nike, and Pentagram. Which means either a) I did something right or b) they were always brilliant, and I just helped them figure it out. Probably a little bit of both.

Now, as a parent to a 9-year-old boy, I’ve got a whole new level of empathy to bring to the table. Teaching, like parenting, is all about guiding, encouraging, and knowing when to step back so they can figure it out for themselves.

Building Brands with Whatever You’ve Got

After years of running my own studio, I was ready for something new. So, I joined Siegel+Gale, where I had the chance to reimagine brands like American Express, ADP, and Freddie Mac. It was an incredible experience, but over time, I found myself craving that scrappy, entrepreneurial energy again. The let’s-build-something-crazy kind of energy.

Then came Prophecy at Prosek. Entrepreneur-led, privately owned, and ready to shake things up in an industry that desperately needed fresh thinking.

It was the perfect fit. A place to bring together everything I’d learned—design, strategy, storytelling—while tapping into that DIY spirit I’ve had since the first time I picked up a skateboard. Because if you want something to exist, you don’t wait around for permission. You make it happen.

From What’s Possible to What’s Next

I’ve come a long way from those punk rock and comic book days, but here’s the thing: design and skateboarding aren’t all that different.

Both demand vision, persistence, and the guts to take risks, again and again. Whether I’m designing a brand, leading a team, or standing in front of a classroom, I’m still chasing that feeling—the rush of pushing past limits, seeing beyond what’s possible, and finally landing the trick.

Because when you finally land it, there’s nothing better.