I spent the first part of my career going in-depth on every layer of the problems I now solve.

I started in strategy — brand strategy, digital marketing, content strategy, agency-side and in my own practice — because I wanted to understand how businesses actually position themselves and how audiences make decisions. Most studios treat strategy as a phase that precedes the real work. For me, strategy and execution have always been inseparable.

Years of teaching UX and web development at Juno College and Concordia University did something client work alone never could. It forced a precision in my thinking, because the most reliable test of whether you actually understand something is if you can explain it to someone else.

Working in-house at a fintech company building software for capital markets clients, the standard wasn't whether something looked right. It was whether it worked, for everyone, under every condition. The gap between appearance and function is where most design work falls apart.

At Huge, I built products for Google that launched across fifteen global markets, work recognized by the Webby Awards and the Creativepool Annual.

Then my team was cut. I spent eight months in Paris, walking, eating baguettes, and waiting for the job market to make more sense. It didn't. When I came home and resumed the search, every role wanted a specialist. I am a true generalist, with breadth of knowledge in the way that actually matters. I have gone deep in several disciplines, not shallow across all of them, and I wasn't willing to pretend otherwise. So I stopped looking for the job that wanted all of it and built the studio that needed it.

Partial History is a nod to something true about all of us: the story we tell is only part of who we are, and the rest keeps changing. It's also a description of what most websites do — they tell a partial history of the business, usually an outdated one. My work is to close that gap.

Getting it right requires thinking strategically about what the site needs to do, designing it with intention, and building it properly. In most studios those tasks belong to three different people whose thinking is treated as though it can be cleanly subdivided.

It can't. Development without UX judgment produces builds that are technically functional and experientially frustrating. The disciplines inform each other at every stage, and separating them is a structural convenience that the work (and the client) pays for.

I'm Toronto-born and raised, which means I have a lot to say about slush, bike lanes, and urban development. I run a slow 5k a few times a week, which is less about fitness and more about the thirty minutes of not looking at a screen.