My path to product design wasn't linear — and that's exactly what shaped how I design today.

I started in culinary arts, training and working in some of Vancouver's top kitchens. It taught me precision under pressure, how to stay creative when the rail is six tickets deep, and that every second genuinely counts when you're in the middle of service. Those lessons never left me — they just found a new kitchen.

I transitioned into front-end development next, drawn to the logic and structure of building things that work. It gave me a foundation in how products are actually built, and an appreciation for the constraints developers work within — something I still carry into every design decision I make today.

It was in product design that these two worlds finally clicked into place. The same instincts that kept me sharp on a busy line — staying calm in chaos, thinking on my feet, caring obsessively about the details that make an experience feel right — are the instincts I now bring to understanding users, untangling complex workflows, and designing solutions that actually hold up under real-world pressure.

Today, I work at the intersection of AI and UX, evaluating conversational interfaces and asking the questions that make products genuinely usable. Before that, I redesigned internal workflows for the RCMP, rebuilt design systems from scratch, and helped teams cut friction that was costing users real time and real frustration.