Growing up, I always dreamed of becoming a pilot. I loved the ritual of walking through the airport toward the aircraft. There was something about the aerodynamic profile of the wings I admired most — the sound they made during takeoff, the way they articulated with the airflow, and the way they opened and closed. It fascinated me, even though I didn’t fully understand the reasons behind my passion. I simply loved it, in its purest form.

As I continued flying and experiencing diverse landscapes across the globe, I found myself captivated by the topographical patterns on the ground, viewed through the edge and shape of the wings. From above, the scene felt almost surreal — thin, infinite vectors crossing each other, dots of activities scattered across the canvas, forming spaces and volumes that seemed to change with every glance. That’s when I realized: it wasn’t the flight I was after, but the geometries I had been instinctively analyzing, creating a visual language from them.

I kept sketching, more and more. My drawings gained clarity and strength, and soon, the lines of the land began to intersect with the designs I was creating. That’s when I felt the shift — a pivot in my direction. The sketches started to guide me toward architecture.

Architecture

Architecture has become the way I see and translate the world. In the early years, I was fortunate to contribute to global projects like the Dubai International Finance Centre and Central Park Towers with Hopkins Architects, followed by the Bahrain General Assembly. After earning a Master of Architecture from California College of the Arts, I continued to explore the edge between vision and execution—collaborating with firms in San Francisco, Toronto, and beyond. Work with FLAD Architects helped shape an abstract art installation for a biotech campus Nexus, while with DIALOG, I contributed to a winning international competition for Seneca College in Toronto.

Closer to the ground, my path has included residential architecture for high-end clients in San Francisco, Abu Dhabi, and Singapore shaping interiors, remodels, and new construction projects that reflect both personal identity and contextual nuance. Whether it’s a private home, a high-rise, or a civic space, I return to the same question: how can space feel like memory, like discovery, like possibility?

Where Art Meets Technology and Science

I’ve spent over two decades tracing the lines between intuition and innovation, between the physical and the digital. As a grant recipient from Autodesk and ARCADIA, my work at the Robotically Augmented Design (RAD) Lab at Kent State University became a turning point—a place where robotic arms, augmented reality, and handmade gestures began to speak a common language. Together, we built a hybrid system that could choreograph motion, respond to form, and turn imagination into structure.

Design Thinking and AI

Recent projects have embraced a multidisciplinary lens. For Oakland’s Faith Baptist Church, I collaborated with the USGBC to integrate 3D scanning and digital twin systems that optimize energy performance. I’ve also explored gravitational water systems at Hetch Hetchy Reservoir, using computational design not just to model infrastructure, but to help understand the unseen forces that sustain us.

Art and Science Convergence

Art has always been my compass. A biotech installation—now the largest abstract piece of its kind in Silicon Valley—emerged from years of studying research labs, workflows, and human behavior. From that data, a visual language unfolded: complex, fluid, alive, and strangely familiar—capturing motion in a static medium.

That same spirit shaped my painting of a Ferrari Formula One car, where form met velocity. Created for the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, the work explored how geometry and gesture can express the acceleration of sport—how speed can live within the curves of a brushstroke.

In Singapore, when CapitaLand commissioned five large-scale canvases to accompany their newly completed towers, I was invited to walk the spaces. Each building had its own rhythm and spatial logic. The artworks were created on-site, responding to the architectural language of each structure—siblings standing side by side, yet each with its own voice. These pieces became an extension of the architecture itself: not decoration, but dialogue.

Visionary Approach

Some ideas travel further. My work in extraterrestrial design imagines a city for one million residents on Mars—where vertical towers blend with subterranean farms, and every component of life is rethought from the ground up. These concepts have been shared with the Luxembourg Space Agency, Greece’s Innovation Center for Natural Hazards, and the International Astronautical Federation. My book, Extraterrestrial Nexus on Mars, continues that journey—part design manual, part dreamscape.

Connecting the Dots

This journey has never been linear. I’ve failed often, but each setback reshaped the path. The thread that connects it all is the pursuit of meaning through form. I believe architecture isn’t just about what we build; it’s about how we live inside our questions.