Background:
I began my professional life behind the camera, capturing images for directors who—whether they admitted it or not—were really staging their own unconscious dramas. Filmmaking taught me that every frame is a confession, every cut a defense mechanism. That realization pulled me from studio backlots into the far more volatile set of the human mind. in Counseling Psychology with an emphasis in Marriage and Family Therapy, learning how love, rage, and betrayal get spliced into the daily reel of family life. Still, I wanted to go darker—into the edits no one screens in public. So I completed a Psy.D. in Clinical Psychology at Pacifica Graduate Institute, specializing in Depth Psychology and psychoanalytic theory. There I traded storyboards for dreams, discovering how archetypes stalk our relationships and how unspoken desire can light up a room—or burn it down. In practice, I work psychoanalytically: we slow the film, study the frame, and listen for the lines you’ve never spoken aloud. Transference isn’t a clinical buzzword; it’s the projector beaming your past onto the present. Together we confront the shadow material you’d rather keep out of the shot, because only by facing it can the plot twist toward freedom. Whether you’re rehearsing old roles, drowning in someone else’s soundtrack, or wrestling with a villain you secretly wrote yourself, I’m committed to sitting in the darkness with you until we find the cut that rings true. Therapy should be transformational—less tidy montage, more raw director’s cut. Clinical Experience:
I specialize in personality disorders—borderline personality disorder in particular—where identity tilts on a knife-edge and emotions detonate without warning. Beyond that high-wire act, I traffic in the full spectrum of human undoing: psychosis that warps reality into a fun-house mirror, bipolar highs that flirt with the gods, OCD rituals performed like sacred liturgies, addictions that promise salvation but deliver annihilation, and the quiet famine of eating disorders. I’ve sat with autistic minds mapping their own galaxies, mourners crossing Styx, trauma survivors whose bodies still keep the score, and identities in flux over gender, grief, or existential vertigo. I’ve worked every clinical theater imaginable—school districts where recess hides ruptured attachments, county clinics where symptom management is triage, group homes buzzing with adolescent chaos, and psychoanalytic institutes where dreams sprawl across the couch like art- house cinema. At Roundtable Counseling, an intensive outpatient program, I guided patients emerging from the raw turbulence of recent hospitalization, helping them storyboard a narrative sturdy enough for everyday daylight. These days I run my own analytic studio in Westlake Village, California. Children, adolescents, adults, couples, families, and groups all take a seat. The setting is quieter, but the material never is: we screen the raw footage, trace the jump cuts, and confront the shadows that keep hijacking the script. The goal isn’t merely symptom relief—it’s a radical rewrite of the story you’ve been living on repeat.
