Hi, I’m May—an artist, writer, and lifelong maker of things.

At one point, I was convinced I was headed straight into animation after college. I wanted, very badly, to work in video games—designing worlds, building environments, creating cinematic cutscenes, the whole deal. And while I loved learning how games are built and respected the technical wizardry behind them, I slowly realized something important: I missed making things with my hands. Physical things. Things that existed outside a screen.

Along the way, I discovered I’m pretty good at graphic design and building logos from scratch. It’s fun, and I enjoy it—but it never quite felt like the thing. What stuck was the pull toward tactile, slower mediums. These days, I spend my creative time painting and drawing with acrylics and oils, charcoal and graphite. I like materials that leave evidence behind—texture, weight, mess, intention.

This site began as a place to write and has grown alongside my creative practice. The blog here has been running for years, shifting and evolving with my life. I write about creativity, everyday moments, grief, joy, and the slow, sometimes uncomfortable work of becoming. Some posts are thoughtful, some are rough around the edges, and some are simply check-ins. All of them are honest.

I’m also actively building a portfolio with the intention of offering physical artwork—pieces made to be held, displayed, and lived with, not just scrolled past. I’m interested in art as an object, not a performance. Slow work. Intentional work. Work that feels human.

Outside of all that, I build worlds for Dungeons & Dragons, love horror in all its forms, and have strong opinions about dill pickles, the color purple, and skulls. I identify, spiritually at least, as an 83-year-old: happiest crocheting under a blanket while watching old episodes of Unsolved Mysteries, Forensic Files, or anything vaguely murdery. Add a gin drink or two, and that’s a perfect evening.

I don’t believe in having everything figured out before you begin. I believe in showing up, making the thing, and letting it change you as you go. If you’re drawn to creative work that’s thoughtful, a little strange, and unapologetically imperfect, you’re in the right place.