I came to design through stories.

People call stories unreal. I studied English literature because I believe the opposite. A story comes from a human mind, so it holds what is most real about us: how we think, what we feel, and how we make sense of a life we never chose.

I planned to stay with books, but I also wanted to be close to technology, and I didn't see how to have both. My brother did.

I took one course and knew he was right.

Literature taught me to read closely. Design taught me what to read. At EBCOM, I once ran a think-aloud test on a telecom app. I asked people to say their thoughts out loud as they worked through tasks, and I was surprised by what came out: a steady stream of doubts, guesses and small detours. It showed me how far a designer's intuition can be from what users actually think. I still test before I trust it.

My first products were in Persian, written right to left. Now I design in English, left to right. Switching between the two taught my brain to change direction quickly.

For the last four years, I've been the only designer at a GenAI startup, designing AI products for investors, where people need to see why they should believe an answer. I liked the pace and working closely with engineers. What I missed was having other designers on the same team to talk with about the craft.

The thing I try hardest to avoid is a feature that looks great and solves nothing. If nobody needs it, it isn't good design, however nice it looks.

I read, learn German, and walk or bike through the woods, which is the best mood fix I know. Recently I started piano, something I'd put off for years because I thought I had no time. What worked was ignoring the perfectionist in me and practicing fifteen minutes a day. I've also started baking. My latest cakes are the best I've ever eaten, though I may be biased.

• Reading
• Learning German
• Piano
• The woods
• Baking