Capyue.
A strange name, isn’t it?

Pronounced [cap-ee-you-eh], it’s a combination of two things I love: capybara and yue (月), the Chinese word for moon.

Names matter to me more than I usually admit. Would a rose by any other name smell as sweet? Yes—yes it would. The thing itself doesn’t change. But names carry intent and meaning, even when the thing they name is still unfinished.

At first glance, Capyue might sound playful or random. It isn’t.
Or maybe it is—but in a way that feels honest.

The Capybara

Capybaras are famously unbothered. The giant rodent just is. They exist calmly in situations that would stress almost anyone else out. Balancing several oranges on its head or sitting beside crocodiles—they remain unbothered. Not because they’re reckless, but because they’re grounded.

I admire that. I aspire to that.
Especially while trying to make things in a world that constantly asks you to optimize, brand, and explain yourself.

The Moon

The moon, on the other hand, has always fascinated me in a quieter way. Distant. Cyclical. Steady. Enigmatic and beautiful, it changes without asking permission and doesn’t rush to be anything other than what it is at that moment. Full, hidden, thin, bright—still the moon.

I’ve always liked looking up at it and feeling small in a way that isn’t threatening.

Capyue lives somewhere between those two ideas:
being calm, and being drawn to something just out of reach.

Tryna Be

This isn’t my first attempt at creating a space for my creativity. In 2020, I tried launching something called trynabe—short for trynabeallcreativelike. At the time, I wanted a place to put everything I was making, thinking, and experimenting with.

It didn’t work.

I didn’t know how to sustain it—or maybe I didn’t know how to sustain myself within it. Eventually, it faded.

That failure still matters to me. Not in a dramatic way, but in a quiet, instructive one. It taught me that wanting a creative home isn’t enough. You also need permission to let it evolve, stall, restart, and change shape.

Capyue.com is a rebrand, yes. But more than that, it’s a reset. Less pressure to perform. Less expectation to arrive fully formed. More room to exist in progress.

Of course, I still want it to grow—but more like a toddler taking their first steps or saying their first word, not a grown businessperson clocking in for a 9-to-5.

Tryna Be All Creative Like 2.0

Interestingly, while the website is called Capyue, the blog itself will keep the name “tryna be all creative like.” That felt important. Capyue is the container—the place where my work lives. The blog is the voice.

And that voice is still trying. Still experimenting. Still learning how to show up creatively without demanding perfection from itself.

“Trying” doesn’t mean unserious.
It means honest.

Therefore, this blog will chronicle my creative endeavors as they happen: the ideas that stick, the ones that don’t, the moments of excitement, and the stretches of quiet. Some posts will be about making. Some will be about not making. Above all, all of them will be part of the same process.

At this point, I don’t know exactly what Capyue will become yet. The bones from trynabe are still there, quietly giving it structure. And I’m okay with that.

The capybara wouldn’t rush it.
The moon wouldn’t either.

For now, this is a beginning. A name that feels like home. A space that’s allowed to change. And a blog that exists not because everything is ready—but because I’m trying to be all creative like.

If you’re tired of the curated, perfect feed on social media, Capyue is for you. On Capyue, creativity is allowed to just be – messy process and all. Capyue is a space for making without polish. Progress is slow. The process matters. You’re welcome to stay awhile.