Chronicles of a Why seeker
They say curiosity killed the cat, but I’m still here, and with several pending questions. If you are looking for my professional background, you are in the wrong place: here you will only find the story of a 4-year-old child obsessed with understanding how things work—from the invisible mechanisms of his favorite toys to the less obvious behind-the-scenes of the events surrounding us.
I am a chaotic blend of healing sarcasm and sudden insights. I firmly believe that a well-timed joke is worth more than a thousand motivational speeches and that there are no stupid questions, only people who haven't yet allowed themselves the luxury of exploring the bizarre side of reality.
If irony and humor were national sports, I would probably be an Olympic champion.
Ah, in case you were wondering...
Yes, that was real hair. No, I have no idea where it went.
My previous lives (and how to survive)
I have changed many uniforms, but never the obsession with understanding what makes people's hearts beat. Every job I’ve held has not only made me who I am today, but served as a user research laboratory, long before I could call it UX Research.

Managing people's hunger is the first real form of Pain Point management. Here I learned that the most important interface is a smile, even when the kitchen is on fire.
Searching for and managing properties is not a matter of square footage, but of knowing how to read hidden desires. I learned to navigate through people's emotions to find the perfect solution: the very essence of User Experience.


Listening to people's stories between coffees was my first course in applied empathy. The counter is the best place to observe how human beings interact with the world (for the boldest, without sugar).
Solving complex problems via chat or over the phone taught me patience and the art of transforming frustration into satisfaction. This is where I realized that behind every "bug" there is always a person who needs to be heard.
The transition from "beautiful" to "functional." I began to give shape to ideas, learning that visual hierarchy is a silent but powerful language that guides the eye and the mind.
Everything has found its "why." The curiosity of the 4-year-old child and the pragmatic chaos of my thousand previous lives. Today, I no longer take toys apart, but I take apart and reassemble digital experiences to finally make them a bit more human.





















