What does it look like to build a life around curiosity?

I've always been the kind of person who can't pick just one thing. Cinema, philosophy, startups, poetry, history — my interests read like someone who could never decide on a major.

But somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing that as a weakness and started seeing it as the whole point.

The first thing I built was terrible. It barely worked, the design was questionable at best, and exactly three people used it — two of whom were my parents.

But it taught me something that no book ever could: the gap between imagining something and making it real is where all the interesting stuff happens.

I started paying attention to the things that wouldn't leave me alone — the questions I'd keep coming back to at 2 AM, the problems that felt personal, the ideas that kept showing up in different forms across different domains.

It turns out that when you follow your genuine curiosity rather than what you think you should be interested in, things start to connect in unexpected ways.

A film by Tarkovsky taught me about patience. A startup failure taught me about resilience. A poem by Rilke taught me about sitting with uncertainty. None of these lessons stayed in their lanes — they bled into everything.

I'm still figuring it out. That's the honest answer, and I've come to believe it's the only honest answer anyone ever has.

This website is part of that figuring out — a place to think in public, to build in the open, and to connect the dots between all the things that fascinate me.

If you've read this far, we probably have something in common.

Thank you for being here.