Design found me before I found it. Growing up, I'd notice billboards on the road and either stop to admire them or feel genuinely irritated by how badly they communicated. A poorly designed app would frustrate me in ways I couldn't fully explain at the time. I just knew something was wrong and I wanted to be the person who made it right.

That instinct led me into graphic design, where I spent 14 years working with global brands like Macquarie and Cvent. Designing visual systems, campaigns, enterprise communications, and brand experiences at scale. It was real work with real constraints and real audiences. I learned how design functions inside large organizations, how to get things made, and how to earn trust from stakeholders who don't speak design.

But somewhere along the way I started feeling the ceiling. I was making things look right. I wanted to make things work right.

Product design is where those two things meet. A well-designed product doesn't just look good. It changes how people work, how businesses grow, and how users feel about themselves when they use it. That gap between what a product can do and what people actually experience is where I've found my focus. I've lived that problem from both sides. As a designer building visual systems, and as a user who knows exactly when something isn't working.

I'm drawn to complex problems and blank canvases equally. There's something about inheriting a messy, broken experience and finding the clarity inside it that still genuinely excites me, even now.

Outside of design I'm a self-confessed technology obsessive. New tools, new products, new interfaces. I'm usually the first person in the room to have tried something and formed an opinion about it. I also have a serious interest in food from around the world. Different cuisines, different cultures, different ways of solving the same human problem. There's more design thinking in a well-composed plate than most people realize.