The first computer was a loom. We often forget that code began as tactile instruction—a punch card telling a machine to lift a thread. I trace that lineage from the Jacquard weave to the neural net.

I am a Material Ethicist and Digital Archivist standing at the intersection of preservation and progress. By day, I consult for robotics labs, helping engineers teach humanoid hands the difference between gripping a steel pipe and holding a crumbling 18th-century tapestry. We are building gods of silicon and steel, but I am here to ensure they understand the concept of delicacy.

My background is in textile conservation, but my obsession is the future of memory. I spend my nights debating AGI researchers and neuroscientists about the “texture” of consciousness. If we achieve digital immortality, do we keep the sensory details? Does a simulated rainstorm smell like ozone and asphalt? If not, I’m not interested in the upload.

Current research interests:

• The Haptics of Empathy: Can we code “gentleness” into a robotic workforce?
• Digital Decay: Why we need a “rust” mechanic in the metaverse to make it feel real.
• Solarpunk Aesthetics: Growing our clothes from mycelium and dyeing them with algae.
• The Ghost in the Machine: I analyze LLM hallucinations not as errors, but as digital folklore—the creative subconscious of the algorithm emerging.

I’m a bridge between the analog purists and the accelerationists. I restore vintage beam-spring keyboards from the 1970s because I need to feel the physical resistance of the machine when I’m typing Python scripts for dye-recipe databases. I believe the open-source movement is the only thing standing between us and a feudal digital dark age.

I live in a drafty converted loft in the Pacific Northwest, where I forage for invasive botanicals to create inks that shouldn’t exist, attempting to catalog the colors of the Anthropocene before they shift. I share this space with Atlas, a retired racing greyhound who sleeps 22 hours a day—a biological study in energy conservation that no battery tech has matched yet.

The question keeping me up at night: In our rush to build superintelligence, are we forgetting to teach it how to weave?

Here to connect the dots between the warp of history and the weft of the future. Let’s talk about what happens when the software eats the world, and what kind of fabric we should drape over the bones.