I write code so I can spend less time looking at a screen.
Most people see a Computer Science student.
But if you walked into my workspace right now, you wouldn't see a typical developer's setup.
You’d see a camera. A massive Premiere Pro timeline. Half-planned branding campaigns for college events. And a notebook full of ideas that never made it to production.
Technology is not my identity.
It's just the sharpest tool I have to remove friction from the creative process.
Last year, while leading a media team, we were drowning in 10,000 photos from a single event.
Sorting them by hand was soul-crushing. It drained the energy out of the entire editing room.
So I stopped sorting.
Instead, I wrote an AI-assisted workflow to cull the bad photos automatically.
(That project is pinned below. It’s messy, but it gave our team days of our lives back.)
Look around the desk
Currently open:
A massive, overly complex machine learning project.
(I used to build those. Nobody used them. Now I focus on simple tools that solve real problems.)
· A Python script that broke this morning because I rushed the API integration.
· Storyboards for an upcoming event promotion.
· A CLI utility I'm trying to build so video editors don't have to break their flow state.
· Cold coffee.
Rabbit Holes
Things I'm exploring right now:
Can machine learning understand the emotion in cinematic color grading?
Why do some event brands feel magnetic, while others feel forced?
How do we build software that disappears when you don't need it?
The repositories below are the evidence.
If you're curious, dig around.
If you want to talk about building things that matter: