A RESTLESS REALIST
WITH OPTIMISTIC UNDERTONES.

02 my story

As a second-generation designer and a true product of the South, I grew up surrounded by beautifully curated spaces. I witnessed the nuance, care, and artistry that went into not only creating a space, but lovingly maintaining it and allowing it to evolve over time. Design wasn’t just a outlet in our home—it was a source of joy that could be shared with others.

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The son of a financial advisor and an interior designer, I was naturally caught between two sides of the brain. I took to design at a very early age, often leveraging my eye and decisiveness to assist my mother with her projects. But I was also an athlete and a student, expected to excel at both. Growing up as a closeted gay child in the South, I felt the need to relegate my passions to what I felt was expected of me: the traditional path to success. That meant good grades, being a standout athlete, attending a prestigious university, landing a great job, and, at least on paper, achieving success.

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So, success on-paper won out and I spent years in Corporate America working in strategy and operations for fast-growing companies. Design became something I thought of as a passion rather than a profession—a creative outlet I supported through my career, not something I allowed to define it. And I genuinely thought I was happy. I loved helping businesses scale, developing leaders, and seeing bold, risky decisions pay off. At the same time, I continued curating personal projects on the side, satisfying that creative itch in whatever spare time I had.

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It wasn’t until the pandemic paused a venture I was overseeing that I started to let myself imagine what could happen if I blended my two worlds. “I’ll convince my company to take on investments,” I thought. “They’ll buy properties, I’ll design them, and we’ll all win.”

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What began as an experiment in flipping houses quickly escalated to larger projects, including new construction. Eventually, it led to my first full-fledged design project: renovating a six-thousand square-foot home on Lake Norman for a young family. For the first time, I truly stepped into the role of “the designer.” That project was featured in Axios and provided a sense of validation, but fear and doubt still held me back. Instead of capitalizing on that momentum, I took another hard left turn, becoming the COO of a company that manufactures and sells golf simulation equipment direct-to-consumer.

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Still, design refused to take a backseat. The side projects continued, and when our personal home was featured on a prominent home tour in Charlotte, the itch returned stronger than ever. I started taking on larger projects, working with close friends and family in my spare time. And while those kept me creatively fulfilled and validated, I still convinced myself to stay in the corporate world. It felt safe. It felt like success.

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Slowly but surely, as photos of my work trickled in, I started sharing them on social media. The response was encouraging. There was interest in what I was doing—a genuine place for my style and perspective—but I kept letting life get in the way.

It wasn’t until I took on a new position and found myself in the throes of a toxic company culture that I finally realized I was squandering my joy. It was the wake-up call I needed to face my fears of failure, of not being good enough. I dove in headfirst: refiled my LLC, built out a proper brand and website, and, for the second time in eight years, started charging for my time.

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Since then, fear has become part of the journey. It’s a discomfort I’ve learned to embrace—it keeps me honest. That fear still shows up with each new consultation, presentation, or final reveal, reminding me of where I came from and why I’m here. I believe you can tell a lot about a person by their home. Whether it’s curated to perfection or simply filled with the basics for survival, the layers and lived experiences are what make it special. It’s a canvas that tells a story, and when I’m asked to design a space, I take that responsibility very seriously. I work hard to understand each of my clients, what they hold dear, and how they live in and interact with their spaces, ensuring that their home continues to tell a unique story.

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My personal style leans toward the intellectually eclectic: balancing timeless pieces with thoughtful left turns, seamlessly mixing the old and new to create something fresh—spaces that not only endure, but feel collected, intentional, and full of life. Every project I take on is a true collaboration, and it will be my privilege to help bring your vision to life. 

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