Bio

Born in Northern California in the late 70s, I relocated with my mother and stepfather to Southeast Michigan and grew up in a small town just south of Ann Arbor named Milan, famous for its federal prison and local dragway races. Growing up, I was mortified to be trapped in such a small town, knowing everyone on every corner, and have only recently grown to appreciate that sense of community.

I was originally destined to be a musician – a vocalist, actually. My mother, a choir director, had me singing in front of a church congregation by age five, and I continued my music studies through elementary and junior high, with a spot on an international choir that toured Europe, music camp, a small part in an all-school musical, and placements in local and regional choirs.

High school was entertaining, as most people will tell you. I continued to pursue music, and developed an interest in photography, writing, and editing. At my junior year of high school, I joined a small vocal ensemble to compete and audition for a regional choir. Once we were awarded a spot in regionals, it was expected that we would compete for placement in the state choir. Upon hearing that I was happy with just the regional accomplishment, and not interested in pursuing the state level, my choir teacher told me I would never succeed in music, and I took him at his word.

Though I applied to a number of colleges, I chose Western Michigan University, funny enough, for their music program. I figured if I ever changed my mind about music, at least I wouldn’t have to go far. I originally decided on a Public Relations major within the Communications department, but during my junior year, while studying abroad in Australia, I enrolled in a Public Relations course and found myself quite dismayed by the course outline. I left the class, rescheduled for a graphic design course, and never went back. When I arrived back in Kalamazoo after my study abroad, I changed my degree from Public Relations to a more general Communications Studies major and a Graphic Arts minor. When visiting my old, crotchety graduation advisor during my senior year, he told me he expected to see me back in a few years since I “wouldn’t be able to get a job with this degree.” I told him I’d be back when I was more successful than he was.