Thoughtful design
for products and people that matter.

For much of my earlier career, I focused on editorial design. I created hundreds of book covers and interiors while working at Nimbus Publishing, the largest book publisher in Atlantic Canada. My job wasn't just to make covers look good; it was to distill an entire manuscript, sometimes 500 pages of someone's life's work into a single image that could stop a stranger mid-browse, tell them exactly what kind of experience they were in for, and make them want to pick it up.

No caption. No explanation. Just design doing its job.

During that time, I was also developing and implementing training programs for dog sports. For a decade, I worked with nearly 200 people—designing weekly classes, workshops, online content, the works—and specialised in the hard cases: reactive dogs, high-energy dogs, and the handlers who loved them but weren’t entirely convinced they could pull this off.

The thing I learned fast is that no training plan survives first contact with a distracted beagle, an anxious owner, or both at once. So I stopped handing people scripts and started designing around the individual in front of me. If the plan didn’t fit the person (or the dog!), the plan was wrong. The person wasn’t.

Books and dog training might sound unrelated, but they sharpened the same instinct: does this actually work for the individual in front of me?

What I bring to UX is 20 years of understanding that the person on the other end of your design has a goal, limited patience, and real stakes—whether that's a reader, a handler at week three of their first class, or someone trying to complete a checkout flow at 11 p.m.

They all deserve an experience that respects their time and doesn't make them feel stupid. Function and beauty are not in competition.