I notice where to put my keys so I never forget them, why the checkout form feels hostile, why our devices stay exactly the same whether you're glowing with joy or sitting with grief.

I'm a design engineer: I shape the flows, screens, and decision moments of enterprise AI tools and data products, then build them. For people who'll put their name on the output.

AI is everywhere right now, and not always because it needed to be. Someone always made a choice to put it there. Working as a designer close to the engineering side means spending a lot of time with, for and around AI, and a lot of time knowing where we shouldn't use it.

But even when AI is the right call, rigorous thinking has to happen first. Can the people involved still do their work as reliably as they need to? Can they sign their names under what it produces? The problem isn't usually output quality. It's accountability. And accountability is a design problem.

Outside of that, I've been running a quieter side quest: how do you bring emotions into digital spaces?

Interfaces that respond to grief. Notifications that arrive as flowers. Music players that feel like being at a party.

Same brain, different settings.