The world tells you to pick a lane. I picked the pattern underneath all the lanes: the need to understand how something works before I'm willing to leave it alone. An engine, a business, a market, a city. The domain changes, but the instinct doesn't.

Right now, that instinct has me building Workbench, a startup born out of years spent inside construction and enterprise back-offices, watching teams lose hours to workflows that should have been automated a decade ago. I felt the pain firsthand, so I'm building the fix.

Through Folio, we immerse ourselves in a business until we understand exactly where it's losing time, money, or both, and then deliver a solution that eliminates it entirely. Six years across startups and Fortune 500 environments taught me that the best work doesn't announce itself; it removes the friction people forgot they were living with.

Away from the screen, I'm driven by the same impulse. I pull cars apart in my garage, learn how they work from the inside out, and put them back together better than they came from the factory. I travel not to check boxes but to sit inside the unfamiliarity of a place; its history, its food, its people, the way a city moves in the dead of the night. Most days, I'm learning something that has nothing to do with work because the not-knowing bothers me more than the effort of figuring it out.

The thread through all of it is the same; go deep enough and the line between curiosity and competence disappears.