Sandy Mays is a creative director specializing in brand design, experiential environments, and visual storytelling across physical and digital spaces, with work spanning Google, Amazon, McDonald’s, and major live events worldwide. She leads with curiosity, craft, and human connection. See more at sandramays.com and @theworldofsandy
Pronouns: she/her
What is the thing you like doing most in the world?
Making art with my kids. Sitting around our table with paper and paint, music playing, hands
covered in color. No plan, no pressure, just creating for the joy of it. I love watching their personalities shine, seeing them dance, and hearing all the little stories that spill out while they work. It’s music to my ears. Time slows down and nobody’s checking a clock. We’re just fully there together. That’s my favorite place to be.
What is the first memory you have of being creative?
It was sometime in elementary school when I started making handmade greeting cards to give as gifts for Christmas. They weren’t just drawings. They were full productions with fabric, bits of metal, colored sand. Anything I could glue down found its way onto those cards. Very mixed media before I even knew what that meant. I remember someone saying, “Wow, this is so creative,” and it completely lit me up. I was so proud that I even designed a little logo on the back. I called them Sandy Burger Cards and drew my name squeezed between two burger buns.
Looking back, it still makes me laugh, but it was probably my first taste of making something personal and sharing it with others. It felt less like a craft and more like, this is me.
What is your biggest regret?
Earlier in my career, I didn’t really chase the big companies or the well-known agencies. I kept telling myself my work wasn’t ready yet. One more tweak, one more round, then I’ll share it. Looking back, I regret the moments I stayed quiet or small when I could have been braver.
Maybe it’s part of being an artist, learning how to step out of your shell and take up space. I’ve learned it’s better to show up imperfectly than to wait for perfection, which in my mind doesn’t really exist. Unless you’re a dog. They’re all perfect.
How have you gotten over heartbreak?
I’m not sure you ever really get over a true heartbreak. I’ve definitely cried it out and let it be messy and honest, and then I move, because breaking a sweat resets me. When I feel sad, I skate until I physically can’t anymore. The exercise gives me that rush of endorphins, those happy hormones that lift my whole mood.
I once read that trees release natural oils that lower cortisol and reduce anxiety, so now my rule is simple: go where the trees are. Nature has a way of healing everything.
What makes you cry?
Lately, the news. Injustice. Hatred. Animal cruelty. Anything that hurts the innocent. I don’t understand how we’ve gotten here. Hatred is learned, not something we are born with. I’ve seen very different versions of the world growing up, born in Mexico City and raised in Switzerland. Two completely different social realities. Two different kinds of privilege and struggle. It made me sensitive to inequality early on.
Sometimes it feels like the constant stream of bad news is trying to desensitize us, like we’re supposed to accept suffering as normal. But I don’t want that to be normal. It shouldn’t be. If anything, I hope I never stop crying about it. It means I still care.
How long does the pride and joy of accomplishing something last for you?
Not long enough. Anytime I accomplish something big, the first thing I do is text my family. I feel the pride most deeply when it’s reflected back by someone who’s been there the whole time. Not likes or shares, just my circle. That feeling might last a couple of days, maybe a quiet weekend where I let myself actually enjoy it. Then, unfortunately, if it’s work related, imposter syndrome kicks in. I start seeing all the things I’d tweak or improve if I had more time. I’m a bit of a perfectionist that way. My brain automatically shifts from celebrating to editing.
But I’ve come to see that as part of the beauty of what we do. Design is never really finished. It evolves with time, seasons, and trends. There’s always another version waiting to happen. The pride softens into curiosity, then I’m ready to make the next thing better.
Do you believe in an afterlife, and if so, what does that look like to you?
Absolutely! I’m not religious, but I am spiritual and I am a dreamer. I believe in energy, in presence, in light that lingers long after moments pass. If there’s an afterlife, I hope it’s warm, beachy, and full of dogs. Especially the ones I’ve loved and lost. I miss them, and the idea of seeing them again feels more comforting than any grand or formal version of the afterlife.
Maybe it’s from watching movies, but sometimes I wonder if we come back too. Perhaps as another person, or we just get more chances to love and learn again. Whatever it is, I hope it feels peaceful. Like being exactly where you’re supposed to be.
What do you hate most about yourself?
That I still haven’t figured out how to teleport. I have people I love scattered all over the world, and it feels wildly inefficient that I can’t just close my eyes and arrive in my mom’s kitchen two seconds later. Instead, it’s lines, security checks, delayed flights, and twelve hours in the air. For someone who thrives on spontaneity, modern travel feels very not modern.
Honestly, we don’t need AI trying to imitate art. We need AI to crack teleportation.
What do you love most about yourself?
That despite not being able to teleport, I still travel. I’m patient enough to stand in those lines, squeeze into those tiny airplane seats, and cross oceans to explore this vast world. And apparently I still fit into a standard seat, which feels like a small modern miracle.
But really, it’s my curiosity what keeps me moving toward new places, and the people who matter most. Even without teleportation, I’ll always find my way there.
What is your absolute favorite meal?
Anything shared around a table with friends or family. Give me a homemade pasta dish and a super lemony, vinaigrette-heavy salad and I’m completely happy. There’s something about eating together, passing bowls around, everyone talking over each other that makes the food taste even better.
Apparently pasta chemically makes you happy. I fully agree with that research.
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