He allegedly studied semiotics and art history at Brown University, but really spent his time at the near by Rhode Island School of Design making pots. He was obsessed with materialism,early rap music, and fashion.
He decided to channel these interests into his ceramic oeuvre. When he looks his old pieces he thinks “I was quite a little visionary”. But his hippie dippy professor thought other wise. “You have no talent”, she told him. “Move to New York and become a lawyer”.
If his three years as an assistant to harpyish (sic) shrews in the entertainment industry had been any less miserable, he might have clawed his way up to become a mid-level talent agent with a heart of coal. (Or not as he was a horrible employee who yapped on the phone all day with friends). Instead he bottomed out, quit his job and had a revelation: The approval of his evil pottery professor meant nothing. He had to do what he loved, which meant making pots that he himself would want to buy.