New technology should reach everyone.

The best byproduct of that was Sentimint, the company I built from scratch. The idea was simple enough to explain to anyone: any meaningful object could carry memories you don't want to forget, permanently, as your legacy. As humans, our memories fade, but the objects we treasure stay and are carried with us long after the details are gone. We built a new way to remember. Sentimint gave those memories a permanent home inside the objects themselves.

We defined this category as emotional commerce. Underneath it were AI, NFC, a private cloud and a blockchain that made "permanently" true, but no one needed to understand any of that to feel it. My goal was to make blockchain as intuitive as wearing a piece of jewelry on your skin.

And people did feel it. In more than 200 street interviews and in pitch after pitch, people cried. Investors cried. It didn't matter who they were; it moved them. I will never forget the faces I saw from the stage and in person, purely in awe. We touched people in so many different ways. It was the perfect case of human-computer interaction: something technical but deeply emotional that any human could feel.

I ran it end to end. MVP in three months, V1 in six, with a small team across five countries. A 2,000-guest co-branded activation at Art Basel. More than five patents filed. We bootstrapped with $150K in non-dilutive funding and took a category that didn't exist to more than 20,000 adopters.

Despite some moments feeling like near-death experiences, those were the best years of my life. A normal night was a 3am bike ride to clear my head, which always ended with more ideas to test and a race back to my apartment to keep building, with the biggest smile on my face. I forgot what sleep meant. After nearly three years of calling Sentimint my baby, I stepped back in early 2026 for personal reasons.

We're living through an extraordinary stretch of invention. New products launch every week, and AI is moving so quickly that no one can honestly say what the world will look like a few years from now.

I believe technology only truly matters once it reaches the people who need it, so seamlessly that they never have to understand how it works, with no friction and no prior knowledge. As we see more powerful technology come to life, making it reach everyone matters more than ever.

This belief isn't new for me. It's why human-computer interaction became my favorite subject to research, and in 2020 I planned to join the VR lab at the University of Göttingen to study it further (I found it super sexy that Oppenheimer studied physics there). Going back to school to finally study what I wanted was my dream for nearly a decade. Instead, I chose to help an AR/VR healthcare company grow, convinced I could bring more impact to the corners of the world that way, and faster. I kept telling myself, "School will still be here, even if I come back in 50 years."

Building has never been easier, and getting what we build into the right hands has never been more important. That's the work I want to keep doing, alongside people who feel the same way.

That I always make things work. My whole life has called for creative solutions, and I don't give up until we've literally exhausted every option (sometimes my team would hate me for this when I asked them, "did you really try everything?").

I collected plenty of bruises along the way, but I made it all work.

Through all of it, I've been blessed with the people around me.

I've started over in new cities, countries, and industries, and every time it made me better at what I do. Now I'm starting over once more and going back into a company. I'm chatting with the best founders and companies about where to dedicate my next chapter, and how to help them hit their most ambitious goals.

Here is what my first 90 days with you would look like.