Path to Prosek: Take Time to Get Where You're Going

There are those who set a direct course. A straight line to a specific destination. Point A to point B and so on. I am certainly not one of them. I love to meander. To take my time exploring, wandering off the path — while keeping an eye on my compass, of course.

As a child I loved being outdoors, discovering hidden treasures in the “forest” and fields that surrounded me. That sense of wonder always filled me with awe. Growing up, art also provided me with a place where I could lose myself. Not so shockingly, I drew, painted, and sculpted things from nature.

My parents were witness to this and provided me support and helped nurture my talents and I will forever be grateful. I’m sure in the back of their heads, they were slightly concerned — an artist’s life is not the easiest. This came to a head as I took off for art school. I loved painting. Still do. The smell of linseed oil, the solvents, the paint itself, and all that other toxic stuff. It was so tactile. The physicality of paint on brush. Brush on canvas. Stained hands. I loved how it filled all of my senses.

Well reality came knocking and it was suggested I try out graphic design — you know, you need to make a living. Hesitantly, I signed up. I was worried that I would lose that tactile experience. Well, turns out that I didn’t lose it at all, I fell in love with it. Truly it was letterpress printing that ignited my fire. There I was, not in front of a computer screen — which was quite new back then — but standing in front of a heavy machine. My hands were dirty again. Ink replaced paint. Motor oil replaced linseed oil. The studio was filled with the clicking and clacking of the Vandercook proof press built in 1942. The air smelled like the painting studio. I was so blown away that such a beast — all 1,200 lbs of it — required the most sensitive adjustments to make a perfect print. The precision, the craft, and the messiness all came together. I was hooked.

In 1995, I purchased my first press just like the one I learned on in school, set up a studio and began cranking. 29 years and one hernia repair later, I still have it in my basement. Talk about meandering, I moved that press several times in and around the city — and who knows how many journeys it’s been on in the 53 years prior to falling into my lap. Finally, it has a resting spot. And I actually do use it from time to time. Both of my sons have found great joy in putting ink on paper.

So, what does all this have to do with my path to Prophecy? Well, I’ve worked many different jobs throughout school and post grad. Delis, florists, restaurants, dog walking, historic preservation. It took me a while to finally practice the craft which I had studied. I’ve been through the circuit — small boutique design shops, behemoth advertising agencies. Had a business with an interior designer where we focused on the hospitality industry. Became the CD at Keith McNally’s restaurant empire. Worked in an agency that made me realize you cannot take culture for granted. I wandered and gained many different experiences and insights that ultimately led me to Prophecy.

Ironically, it feels more like destiny. See, my path crossed with Anne Swan — our fearless leader — while I was on the hunt for a new job. It didn’t pan out, but fast-forward 10 years and we met again. This time, it clicked into place, and I’ve been here ever since.

Paths cross. Lives shift. And though my course was not direct, I have ended up at my destination, one that I couldn’t have imagined possible.

Take time to get where you’re going. Get lost along the way. Keep your compass handy. Don’t look, but see. There is much to discover off the beaten path and much to be learned.