Before I stepped into the world of AI, I was on stages, in studios, and on the road—living a life shaped by music, movement, and human connection. I sang in choirs, performed internationally, and experienced firsthand how shared sound can dissolve boundaries. That time gave me more than technical skill—it gave me a lens: one attuned to harmony, presence, and the subtle architectures of emotional truth.

Those early years in the performing arts taught me what it means to listen, not just to people but to place, to culture, to silence. Traveling through diverse communities, I came to see technology not as a cold instrument, but as a potential bridge—if we build it with intention.

Living with neurodivergence added another layer to that journey. It made me acutely aware of friction—between systems and people, between what's said and what's meant. But it also gave me pattern sensitivity, deep empathy, and a mind tuned to nuance. These are not just personal traits; they’re tools I use in design.

Now, I bring those threads together in my work with AI.

At the core of my thinking is a long-term vision: to help build what I call a Codex—not just a product or protocol, but a living, evolving system that aligns machine capability with human need, with clarity, consent, and care at its foundation. It’s about more than usability—it’s about relationship. Between people and machines. Between data and meaning. Between what we build and who we become because of it.

This site is a collection of experiments, inquiries, and case studies rooted in that vision. If you're curious about friction, transformation, or the future of thoughtful technology, you're in the right place.