In elementary school, while other kids in my class dreamed of being politicians, reading the entire Harry Potter series, or getting top grades in math (that last one never was—and never will be—my goal), I always wanted to create. I wanted to be the best at what I loved. I never missed a birthday or Christmas without drawing or painting something for someone. From a young age, I had a sense that I would do something in art someday. In high school, darkroom photography began to shape that vision. I had an incredible teacher who encouraged me daily to pursue it as a career. But when college came around, I faced some concerns from family about majoring in photography. I heard the famous line, “What are you going to do? Photograph weddings?” Even then, my dreams were bigger—I wanted to be the next Annie Leibovitz.

 

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always pushed myself to be the best—in school, sports, etc. Thankfully, my stubbornness and pure determination drove me to not only get the 4.0 but also to prove that an art degree could be more. Graphic design seemed to find me by happenstance. My friends were planning to take a few semesters at the Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design, and with my FOMO, I wasn’t going to stay back. I decided to double major (which did help ease some previously mentioned concerns about only having a photography degree), and I found something that challenged my brain in a way that felt right. For me, photography has always been a vision, an idea, something raw and real that I need to capture. I’d keep my friends in the campus studio until 2 a.m. just to get “the shot”. Design, though, itched my brain in a different way—like pieces of a puzzle fitting together. I knew I’d found something I could do every day.

 

I’m forever grateful for the professors and happenstances that led me to where I am today, and for my boyfriend Nick and my family, who trusted that my stubbornness would set me on the right path. As corny as it sounds, I don’t consider myself just a graphic designer, photographer, or painter. In my heart, I know I’m an artist—and that makes the little girl who dreamed of nothing else really, really happy.