Not in a productivity sense, more in the way you notice light change in a room, or how your body responds before you have words for it. My work lives in the space between experience and meaning.

Sometimes that looks like hands-on work. Sometimes it’s conversation, imagery, teaching, or time spent outdoors. The form changes, but the orientation stays the same: slowing down enough to notice what’s actually happening. I’m interested in how people relate to their bodies, their stories, and each other, especially in places where things don’t quite fit standard language or systems.

Much of my work is shaped by being queer (he/him), by spending years in care-oriented professions, and by paying close attention to how safety, trust, and pacing are felt rather than declared. There are beliefs that quietly guide my work. One of them is that people change more easily when they feel loved. I don’t usually say that out loud… but it informs how I show up, how I listen, and how I hold space.

Outside of work, I value time that doesn’t need to prove anything. I read and write, make art, go camping, explore, and spend a lot of time with my dogs. Lately I’ve fallen back in love with movement, especially swimming and dance (shout out to Soul on Fire Dance), and with getting absorbed in comic books. None of this is separate from my work. It’s part of how I stay human.