I didn’t go the straight-line route to becoming a creative. After five years in the Navy—yeah, that Navy—I got out and went to school for graphic design. Got my BFA in the mid-90s, back when we were still slicing up type by hand and hoping Quark didn’t crash.I started out in print design, and I loved it. Type on a grid, tight layouts, a little Swiss influence—real clean, real nerdy. I wasn’t trying to make “cool” stuff. I wanted to make work that worked—books, posters, branding—something you could hold in your hands. Then came web design, and I kind of hated it. Designing for screens never gave me the same satisfaction as making something physical. I like a finished product that exists in the real world. A thing you can touch.By 2009, I needed a creative outlet that wasn’t tied to clients, meetings, or a mouse. I found a jewelry studio offering classes and figured, “Why not?” First thing I noticed—no computer. Just fire, tools, and my two hands. It was messy, hands-on, and totally addictive. And the kicker? At the end of each session, I had a piece of wearable art. Not a comp. Not a round of revisions. Just something done.That turned into Silver Piston in 2013—my own line of handmade jewelry. I built it up through Instagram, giveaways, and teaming up with people in the custom motorcycle world, which I’ve always been into. It was a side hustle at first. Then in January 2015, I got fired from my last agency job. That Monday? I was a full-time jeweler. It was kind of perfect.But like most creative people, I can’t sit still for long. In 2017, I picked up my camera and started playing around with portrait photography. That summer I shot a friend’s jewelry line using natural light, and something just clicked. A few months later, I got a chance to shoot Killer Mike. That was the moment I knew I wanted to go deeper.Now, portrait photography is a huge part of what I do. I shoot executives, artists, and regular folks who want portraits that don’t feel like stiff