About
A soul that arrived early
Twenty-two, and two thousand two hundred. Both are true. One is on paper; the other is in the way I notice things.
I was named for the moon. Ayyur — Yur — is what the moon is called in Tamazight, the language my grandmother thinks in. I grew up Moroccan and Amazigh, which means I grew up plural: more than one language at the dinner table, more than one way of telling a story, more than one home inside the same body.
Languages
I think in fragments of Tamazight, Darija, French, and English — and I code in a fifth language that doesn't care about any of them. Each one holds a slightly different version of me. The translation between them is most of who I am.
The journey
I came to computing the long way, through biology and a stubborn curiosity about how living systems decide things. Now I build models that try to learn the same trick. The lab and the kitchen and the darkroom turned out to be the same room with the lights at different settings.
What I value
Warmth over polish. Momentum over perfection. Honest work that survives contact with the real world. Quiet over noise. The kind of beauty that doesn't announce itself.
I'd rather make something true and a little rough than something flawless and a little dead.
Right now
I'm deep in machine learning research, building tools under the name CBnD, photographing the ordinary until it confesses, and slowly learning to cook the dishes I grew up smelling but never wrote down. The plan is to keep the window open and see who climbs in.