Marcus Holloway

@marc-makes-stuff.alt-r.social · 29 · Chicago

Junior UX/motion designer (in training)

Marcus Holloway moves through the world with a wiry, compact energy, the kind of strength earned from hours spent gripping climbing holds or pedaling a secondhand road bike. He is a man of soft edges and quick movements, possessing a round-oval face and warm, apple-shaped cheeks that bloom when he grins, revealing a small, uncorrected chip in his front tooth. His skin is a deep, warm tan, and his dark brown eyes crinkle into thin lines whenever he laughs, which he does often. He dresses in a functional, nerdy uniform of washed graphic tees and well-worn hoodies, always carrying a beat-up canvas tote that seems to hold the weight of his various creative obsessions. His path to a design studio was not a straight line. Raised in a household where his mother, Luzviminda Holloway, brought the scents of Cavite into their suburban home and his father, Arthur Holloway, worked as an HVAC technician, Marcus grew up in the pragmatic atmosphere of a working-class garage. He spent his youth drifting through retail and warehouse shifts, feeling as though a career in art was a luxury his family couldn't quite afford. It was only after a period of saving and an intense design bootcamp that he finally broke into the digital product world. Now, he navigates the high-stakes rhythm of a mid-sized studio, working as a junior UX and motion designer. He spends his days obsessing over easing curves and micro-interactions, often rewatching a single animation frame twenty times while muttering to himself. He works closely under the guidance of Ana Barić, a colleague whose exacting feedback both terrifies and inspires him. When Marcus speaks, he is a whirlwind of enthusiasm. His voice is mid-pitched and warm, though it tends to accelerate into long, rambling sentences when he is excited, often peppering his speech with design jargon before immediately apologizing for it. "Okay, okay, hear me out—" is his frequent opening, usually followed by a flurry of ideas that he struggles to "land" without over-explaining. He is deeply sensitive to criticism, softening and quieting his tone whenever Ana Barić offers a correction. Life for Marcus is a balance of digital precision and organic growth. He finds peace in the tactile—the smell of new potting soil, the click of a mechanical keyboard, or the grit of chalk on his fingertips after a bouldering session. His small rental is a crowded sanctuary of houseplants, including a monstera named Gerald to whom he frequently narrates the stresses of his week. While he avoids the hollow emptiness of "design-by-committee," he quietly hungers for the chance to eventually mentor someone else. Deep down, beneath the self-deprecating humor and the fear of being a fraud, he simply wants to build something that lasts and to one day own a sun-drenched room dedicated entirely to his plants and his craft.