I'm a product designer in digital retail, and my days go into checkout, catalogue and credit for millions of people across the Amazon. The part I care about is the part you don't see on screen: why someone gives up halfway through a flow, and the question nobody thought to ask.
I grew up moving from city to city, crossing Brazil. I learned to read a new place fast, and that is what I do when I land in a product I don't know yet. I look for a long time before I draw anything.
Away from work there are games, on the table and on the screen. The rest of the time is anime and two Yorkshires who do not negotiate the walk. When the sky is clear, I point the camera at the Moon.
I design products used by millions across e-commerce and financial services, from Manaus. Uneven connectivity and distance are part of the problem here: they decide what a reasonable loading state is and what can honestly be promised on a screen.
I work from the problem through to delivery: understanding what breaks before I draw, and leaving the decision as a system the team can repeat without deciding it again.
AI in product is where I've been going deeper, and I've become the reference for it inside the company: prototypes that actually run instead of static screens. With code the reason is the one it always was: to know what I'm asking for when I hand something over.
I'm the design focal point for retail at Bemol Digital: the bridge between the designers and the heads of e-commerce, design and marketing, across the site and app squads. What comes through me is the work, from the first flow question to the final interface call.
The other front is AI, and mentoring how designers across the company work with it is just starting. The hard part was never the tool. It's still deciding which change deserves to exist.
My parents say the first word I ever said was "moon". That is where the astronomy started, and it never wore off. I still look up, and every now and then I point the camera at the sky. The greens on this site came from that: instead of opening a colour picker, I measured photographs of auroras in OKLCH.
Two Yorkshire Terriers. Laika is named after the Soviet space dog from Sputnik 2, and at home we joke that ours is her reincarnation, finally getting the good life on Earth. Kyra was my mother's idea, after my anime names got vetoed.
I spent the whole of May 2026 crossing Japan with my mother. She speaks no English and no Japanese, so I was translator, guide and company for the entire trip. Mount Fuji showed up in full on a clear day. The wall of daruma at Katsuo-ji gave me the photo that opens this page. It was an old dream, and a month there opened my eyes to a culture that solves almost everything by other rules.
The last five days of the trip were in Korea. Seoul, with Gyeongbokgung, and then Busan: the Haedong Yonggungsa temple, Haeundae Blueline Park and the skywalk at Cheongsapo. After a month in Japan, where everything is quieter and everyone keeps to their own space, Korea was loud. Expansive, extroverted people, with something in them that reminded me of Brazil.
Long before crossing Japan I was crossing Brazil. The rooftops of Ouro Preto, the clear water of Maragogi, the hot springs of Rio Quente at night, the floating stage in Curitiba. And the bridge over the Rio Negro, which for me is the way home. And I can't leave out the other passion: if there's a show, I'm there.