I start projects by asking foundational questions. Who is this for? What systems does it live within? What constraints are real, and which are inherited assumptions? I want to understand how things work — socially, technically, environmentally — and design from the root cause outward. I ask a lot of questions. I listen closely. I prototype early. I iterate deliberately.
I care deeply about craft, refinement, and cohesion. But I'm not only interested in making beautiful heirloom objects — I also want to understand how they fit into larger ecological and social systems. Form matters. Function matters. Context matters. Impact matters. The decisions behind an object are just as important as the object itself. Design doesn't stop at aesthetics; it lives in use, in maintenance, in experience, and in consequence.
I've lived across the continent — Vermont, Chicago, Vancouver BC, Bellingham WA, and now San Francisco — and have spent time in many corners of the world. Those experiences shaped how I connect: I'm comfortable in most rooms and can talk to engineers, athletes, farmers, service workers, and executives alike — and I genuinely enjoy the translation between perspectives. Exposure to different ideas, sounds, smells, sights, and lived realities have deeply shaped how I think.
Outside of design, I'm usually outside. Sailing, skiing, climbing, hiking, camping — anything that gets me out of my head and into my senses. Travel has been a constant teacher. Cooking is a main creative outlet. Music has been a lifelong companion — I've played guitar most of my life and rarely say no to a live show (the weirder the better). I love independent movie theaters, card games, road trips, museums, debate, learning languages, watching football (go Bills!), reading, and spending time with other-than-human creatures whenever I can. Design, for me, is not separate from living. It's how I process the world.
