I do not think a person can be reduced to a clean introduction.
Most lives only make sense in hindsight. Even then, not fully.
I learned to think through economics, systems, and behavior.
Later, I found myself drawn just as much to interfaces, language, and the small emotional details people leave behind.
Somewhere in between, I became someone who likes building things.
Not only functional things.
Not only beautiful things.
Something a little quieter than that.
I care about structure.
I care about whether something works.
But I also care about tone, pacing, and the feeling a thing leaves behind after it is gone.
I have spent years moving between analysis and expression, between what can be measured and what can only be noticed.
Some of that happened in classrooms.
Some of it happened through work.
Some of it happened alone, late at night, making and remaking things until they felt honest.
I live in Boston now, in a life shaped by research, code, housing, language, and memory, and by a constant attempt to let usefulness and sensitivity coexist.
I do not always trust people who know exactly how to describe themselves.
What feels more true to me is this:
I pay attention.
I stay with things longer than I need to.
I care about precision, but never only precision.
I am drawn to work that feels thoughtful, useful, and quietly human.
This site is not meant to explain everything.
It is only a record of what I kept coming back to.
