Resity Shop

Out and about. ✨ I love how the gold flakes catch the light when I’m moving around—it’s a subtle bit of sparkle for an everyday outfit.

These 4mm bands are so easy to wear, whether you’re dressed up or just running errands.

Do you prefer the deep green or the classic black? I can never decide.

Deep greens and gold flakes. 🌿 Still one of my favorite combinations to pour in the studio.

I’ve been wearing these stacked lately, but they’re just as nice on their own. They’re 4mm wide, so they feel light but still catch the light perfectly.

You can find the "Earth Stack" set (or the single rings) on the site now. ☕️

White alyssum has something very gentle about it.

It doesn’t try to stand out.
It just exists softly.

I wanted this ring to feel the same —
clear, light, easy to wear.

A small piece of calm.

There’s something about pink tourmaline that feels gentle but strong at the same time.

I paired it with small blossoms and moss from a forest walk.

Softness doesn’t have to be fragile.
It can be steady too.

When sunlight hits resin, everything changes.

Colors get softer.
Gold details wake up.
Flowers look almost alive again.

I love this moment —
when the pieces feel less like products
and more like small preserved memories.

A tiny forest.

Blue forget-me-nots.
Soft white petals.
Moss.
And a small mushroom standing quietly in the dark.

I like pieces that feel like they hold a place inside them.

Not just a flower —
but a whole little world.

This one feels like something you’d find if you walked slowly enough.

Clear resin.
Metallic gold flakes suspended in light.

No flower this time.
Just texture.
Just reflection.

Sometimes I like pieces that are only about material and light.

Simple. Warm. Quietly bold.

Not everything looks perfect on the workbench.

Different colors.
Different stages.
Some finished. Some still waiting.

This is usually how it looks before things become “the final photo.”

Quiet chaos.
And a lot of blue lately.

Some flowers you plant on purpose.
And some just appear.

This larkspur grew out of nowhere in one of the pots on my balcony. I didn’t plant it. I didn’t expect it. It just decided to be there.

And somehow… it stayed with me.

There’s something about its fragility.
The soft purple.
The quiet sensitivity it carries.

It settled in my heart.

I preserved it the way it grew — light, delicate, imperfect.
Now it lives here.