Helios is built around a simple yet transformative idea. Across the United States, hundreds of thousands of gas stations and parking garages are headed toward obsolescence as electric vehicles replace gasoline and remote work changes commuting habits. Helios proposes repurposing these properties into SkyGates: beautifully designed, sustainable neighborhood vertiports that connect suburban commuters to urban centers through fleets of eVTOL aircraft.

It’s knowing people. It’s knowing what people want, and the comfort they seek. It’s not just shaking hands and putting up yard signs. It’s carrying my neighbors’ voices, their hopes, and their frustrations on my shoulders. And for the first time in a long time, I felt something bigger than myself. It was beautiful.

We talk a lot about how AI will change the future, but almost never about how it could save the past.

I coined the term 'Soul Tech' with a simple yet profound vision: to reshape how we preserve memories and connect with the past. In this post, I share the journey of creating Reflekta and the groundbreaking idea behind Soul Tech, a revolution in memory preservation. From pushing the boundaries of AI to building a platform that celebrates life, this is a look at how technology can truly honor the essence of humanity.

The idea was simple, noble, and, in hindsight, slightly terrifying: create technology that would let you talk to the people you love, even after they’re gone. Not séance-table, candlelit, Ouija board stuff, but actual conversations that feel alive, funny, human, real.

It's the modern-day equivalent of finding out your great-grandfather belonged to the Klan. Or that embarrassing family story about "how we used to own a plantation." You know, the sort of thing one whispers over the turkey at Thanksgiving but won't verbalize until someone's had three drinks of wine.

For decades, tech has been about productivity. Speed. Efficiency. Remember when “smart” devices first became a thing and everyone just wanted their fridge to text them? We’ve been optimizing our lives to death. Now we’re starving for connection.

I was backstage at Fairfield High School, carefully drawing pastel stars onto my freshly whitened cheeks and wondering what I’d done, exactly, in my life that had led to this moment.

People often ask how Miles and I make it work—this whole “friendship into partnership” thing. The truth is, we’ve been training for it for 25 years without knowing it.

We live in an era where so much disappears—photos vanish into the cloud, conversations evaporate in feeds, and even extraordinary lives fade from memory.

But what if your grandmother’s voice could still say,
“Be kind, but don’t be a pushover”?

What if your grandfather could still show your son how to tie a tie?

What if we could carry our loved ones—not as data, but as presence—into the future?