I build things — companies, infrastructure, real estate portfolios, music, and stories. From Florida to Hawaii to Chicago, I've spent 20+ years turning ideas into something real.
I've always been wired to build. I studied civil engineering at Purdue, got my boots dirty on construction sites in Illinois, then spent the next two decades delivering large-scale infrastructure across Florida and Hawaii — reservoirs, stormwater systems, pump stations, utility networks. The kind of projects where you're coordinating federal agencies, managing contractors, and solving problems in real time with mud on your boots.
Along the way I picked up an MBA from Florida Atlantic, a green building certificate from Harvard, and PE licenses in two states. I'm a lifetime member of MENSA — which mostly means I'm good at pattern recognition and terrible at small talk. I've published in engineering journals, presented at national conferences, and served as president of Engineers Without Borders. But credentials only matter if the work backs them up.
Somewhere in the middle of all that, I started building businesses in regulated industries, assembled a real estate portfolio, and discovered that the creative side of my brain needed feeding too. Now I split my time between engineering, entrepreneurship, making music, and writing fiction. Life's too short to stay in one lane.
Delivered civil infrastructure projects across Florida and Hawaii — from a 12,000-acre Everglades reservoir and stormwater treatment system to municipal water and sewer networks. I've coordinated with the Army Corps of Engineers, managed multidisciplinary contractor teams, and recovered programs that were behind schedule and over budget. The work is hands-on: grading, drainage, geotechnical analysis, and field problem-solving.
Founded and operated multiple companies in regulated industries from the ground up — built the teams, navigated compliance, and scaled operations. I've also published research on sustainable infrastructure, presented at national conferences, and led Engineers Without Borders. Building things that matter is the through-line.
Built and manage a portfolio of investment properties. From acquisition and renovation to tenant management and optimization — I approach real estate with the same engineering mindset I bring to everything else: systematic, data-driven, and built to last.
Active investor across public markets and private equity, with a focus on emerging technology and high-conviction positions. I do my own research, build my own models, and think in decades rather than quarters.
I produce and create music — it's the counterbalance to the analytical work. There's something about building a track from scratch that scratches the same itch as building a company: start with nothing, layer by layer, until it becomes something that moves people.
Producer & MusicianCurrently working on a novel that weaves together themes I care about — spirituality, human connection, and the tests life puts in front of us. Writing fiction is how I process the bigger questions that engineering and business can't answer.
Almost calm. Almost healed. Almost present. Almost the man LuC kept believing he was.
Her muzzle went gray. Her steps slowed. But her loyalty did not.
She kept meeting him at the door. Kept forgiving him before he asked. Kept offering the same simple truth: you are not beyond love.
Then came the day her back legs gave out in the yard.
She tried to stand and couldn't. She looked at him, confused, like the rules had changed without warning.
Daniel carried her inside, trembling. He called the vet. His voice cracked on the phone. He kept saying, "She's my dog... she's my dog..." as if repeating it could protect her.
In the exam room, the vet was gentle and honest. There were no miracles left to buy.
LuC lay on the blanket, breathing slow, eyes still bright.
Daniel knelt beside her and pressed his forehead to hers.
"I'm here," he whispered. The words felt too late. That was the bitter taste of it.
LuC licked his cheek once. Just once. Not frantic. Not dramatic.
It was as if she was saying: I know. It counts.
When it was over, Daniel sat in the parking lot with his hands on the steering wheel, unable to turn the key.
He felt something in him crack open... not the good kind of opening, not awakening, but the raw kind that comes when the last warm thing leaves.
Whether it's a business opportunity, a creative collaboration, or you just want to say hey — I'd love to hear from you.
aaron@zambo.ai