About m2creates
Anthropologist. Systems architect. Warehouse trained. Learning how cities work from the inside out.
A Little Context
I sit at the intersection of physical operations and digital systems infrastructure — and I'm here because I think that intersection is where the most interesting problems live.
The work that interests me most is the kind where something real is moving through space, and someone needs to know where it is, where it should be, and what the gap between those two facts is telling them.
I've spent my career answering that question in different contexts: as an archaeologist mapping how ancient communities organized themselves around resources, as a security officer who redesigned patrol routes after learning a facility's blind spots by walking them alone at 3am, as a systems architect who asked what a nonprofit actually needed to know about itself before building anything, and as a warehouse operations graduate who went back to the floor on purpose — because the problems I want to contribute to long-term, the ones involving how cities feed people and how goods and services reach the places they're supposed to reach, are physical before they are anything else.
The title changes. The question doesn't. I'm currently looking for a role where both analytical and operational fluency are considered assets, and where "why does it work this way?" is a question worth asking.
A Little History
My first published work was a spatial analysis of Maya settlement patterns in Belize. I was twenty years old. What I was mapping was where people built, what moved between the buildings, and what the arrangement revealed about how a community organized itself — who had access to what, and at what cost. A newspaper in Ontario picked it up. I didn't know I was doing systems thinking. I thought I was doing archaeology.
I earned a BS in anthropology from the University of New Mexico in 2014, graduating cum laude, and spent the following years trying to figure out what to do with a discipline that had given me a way of seeing but not a clear way of being paid. The answer, it turned out, was digital systems work.
I started m2creates as a consulting practice and spent the next decade building infrastructure for organizations that had outgrown their original tools: nonprofits managing information across disconnected spreadsheets, universities running student data on single-machine Access files, policy organizations with no information architecture at all. What I was actually doing was the same thing I'd done in Belize — figuring out what a system assumed it could know, and what it couldn't.
The work that gets left off the linear résumé is instructive. I spent fourteen months as an overnight security officer at a commercial property in Austin. Solo, twelve-hour shifts. The first thing I did was learn the floor plan well enough to draw it from memory — camera blind spots, access point vulnerabilities, the fact that Friday evenings in the showroom were the highest-risk hour. I redesigned the patrol routes around what I'd actually observed. Nobody asked me to. It just seemed obvious that you couldn't protect a system you hadn't walked.
I left with better spatial reasoning and a clearer sense that embodied knowledge is not a supplement to analytical knowledge — it is a prerequisite for it.
In early 2026 I enrolled in a full-time warehouse operations training program at the Central Texas Food Bank, a regional food distributor delivering 63 million meals annually across 21 counties. The choice was deliberate. The problems I want to work on — how cities feed people, how goods move through urban space, how infrastructure reaches the places it's supposed to reach — are physical problems first. You can model them from a distance, but the model will have gaps where the floor plan should be. I wanted to close that gap before it became a liability.
You don't write the SOP until you've worked the floor. I received inventory, ran quality control on a live conveyor, picked and reconciled orders, operated a pallet jack, and learned the warehouse management system end to end.
I also watched what breaks: how a single misplaced item starts a cascade, how the system's record of what exists diverges from what's actually on the shelf, and how the person who closes that gap is usually invisible in the data. That experience is the direct source material for the writing I'm doing now.
Outside the warehouse and the desk, I volunteer regularly with Austin Parks Foundation, Keep Austin Beautiful, and the Yellow Bike Project.
I plant native trees and mulch root zones because urban canopy is infrastructure — it regulates temperature, manages stormwater, and extends the useful life of the streets and sidewalks underneath it. I pull thousands of pounds of waste from Lady Bird Lake and East Austin corridors because the baseline condition of a shared space does not maintain itself; someone has to show up on a Tuesday and do it. I repair and refurbish donated bicycles for redistribution because a bike that stays in circulation is a bike that does not become waste, and because low-cost mobility in a city is a systems problem before it is a policy problem.
None of this work shows up in a dashboard. That is precisely what makes it interesting to me. The first thing that breaks in a city is not the infrastructure — it is the willingness to maintain it. I want to work on the systems that make maintenance legible, fundable, and structurally supported rather than dependent on whoever happened to show up.
The Work
Portfolio projects, case studies, and notes are all collected here — each one a different angle on the same underlying question. The tools and systems behind the work have their own page too.