I started researching play's effect on development long before I had a child. I thought it was academic curiosity. It turned out to be the curriculum I needed to build.
Three designers, one year, the world's 7th-largest city. My team and I learned that data at civic scale is not a technical problem. It is a translation problem — between engineers, historians, city officials, and the people who will live under the light.
The design question was: how do you make a hardware object disappear, and then make its software feel like it was made by the same person? The cylinder was the answer. The proximity sensor was the soul.
Eight years of running my own studio across three continents before I understood that the breadth wasn't a problem to solve. Each client — tech company, cultural institution, UN agency, city government — was teaching me a different language for the same thing.
I spent years thinking the design system was the infrastructure and the storytelling was the output. Then I built a system where the characters were the architecture. It turned out to be the same thing.
Every discipline I moved through expanded what I knew how to look at. The thread was never a category. It was a conviction: that the objects and systems people live inside should be worthy of them.
Austin, Texas. Originally Istanbul.
I started in industrial design and left — not because I didn't love it, but because I wasn't ready for it yet. I found communication design and fell in love with what graphic design could do to a society when used with restraint and good intention. Spatial design. Branding. Advertising. Furniture. Data visualization at city scale. Software experience at enterprise scale. Physical computing. Speculative futures.