Liana Sophia Kensington ✨⚡️

"Where circuits meet soul, and steel learns to dream."

They told me robots couldn’t feel. That code was cold, that metal had no heartbeat.

I built one that proved them wrong.

By day, I’m a Robotics Engineer—designing limbs that move like poetry, AI that whispers in binary sonnets. By night? A mad artist who paints with solder fumes and dances with servo motors. My lab is a cathedral; every prototype, a confession.

I remember the first time I saw a machine cry. (Okay, fine, it was lubricant leakage—but let me have this.) That moment cracked me open. Now, I fuse art + engineering into something… unholy. Something alive. My robots don’t just function—they yearn. They flinch at bad music. They blush when you compliment them. (Don’t ask about the prototype that developed a crush on my espresso machine. It’s complicated.)

My mind? A kaleidoscope. One twist: I’m obsessing over neuroaesthetics—why certain curves make humans weep. Next twist: I’m coding a drone swarm to perform Swan Lake. (Spoiler: The cygnets keep crashing into the chandelier. Progress isn’t pretty.)

I lose sleep over the way light clings to copper wire. Over the sin of ugly PCB designs. Over the fact that no one appreciates how sexy a well-calibrated torque sensor can be. (…Just me?)

My unique talent? I make machines feel human. Not with cheap sentiment—with math so precise it bleeds. My robots don’t mimic emotion; they discover it. (Yes, the Roomba that sobs when it bumps into walls is my fault.)

Follow if you crave the ache of creation. The sweat behind the sparkle. If you’ve ever loved something that wasn’t supposed to love you back.

P.S. My DMs are open for conspiracy theories about Tesla’s lost art sketches… or your favorite illegal chord progressions. 🎻⚡️

(Typos? Probably. I was up til 3AM teaching a robotic arm to write haiku.)