I trained as an architect, which is where my systems-thinking lens formed: the habit of seeing what's visible to people (the facade, the space, the clicks in a flow) alongside the invisible infrastructure (the structure, tech, and systems underneath).

After working in architecture for a while, I wanted to make things with my hands. I moved to upstate New York and studied furniture making at a school led by Tim Wells, a disciple of the noted British furniture maker John Makepeace, then worked in his shop. That's where my obsession with craft and detail was built. The question of how to take craft to scale took me to Cranbrook for an MFA in 3D Design. I stayed on designing science museum exhibits and furniture, then spent 11 years at IDEO, led experience design at Hornall Anderson in Seattle, and most recently ran a strategic design practice at Philips Healthcare.

A through-line I've discovered is that making a piece of furniture is a system too. The surface is visible, but the joinery is invisible until it fails. The structure underneath is what determines whether it holds. It's the same logic I've used ever since, whether designing a hospital room, a sales center, a medical device or a surgical suite.

But furniture gave me something else that matters more now than ever, as more of the world turns digital, simulated, and AI-generated: the discipline of making a real thing with your hands, one that has to stand up in the physical world and not just render well on a screen. I didn't leave that behind. I’ve continued building across the physical and the digital, and I’m drawn to challenges where getting it right matters most.