The Essence Collection

The Essence Collection is shaped by what unfolds rather than what is prescribed.

Each piece begins with intentional placement, then releases control — allowing material, motion, and memory to settle organically. Softness, drift, and subtle imbalance are not corrected; they are honored.

Ashes may be layered, suspended, or gently held within form, but the final composition is never imposed. What remains is not predetermined — it is shaped by what unfolds.

The Origin of The Essence Collection

The Essence Collection took shape during the making of a memorial piece for my sister, created using a cabochon that held my mother’s ashes. What followed was not anticipated, but revealed itself through the process.

The initial placement was intentional and precise: the cabochon was positioned carefully within the mold, followed by a final layer meant to carry movement — mica drifting softly behind it creating depth and flow. I watched the resin closely, testing it by the minute, waiting for the exact moment when movement could be introduced without disturbance. But time collapsed in on itself. What felt like a single breath — one minute too late — was all it took. The resin crossed its threshold. The surface had set. The movement I envisioned was suddenly impossible.

Panic replaced patience.

I realized that if I waited even moments longer, my mother’s ashes would be sealed inside a form that could not be completed as intended. So I acted instinctively — not to alter the work, but to preserve what mattered. I broke the resin apart by hand, carefully but urgently, retrieving the cabochon before it was lost. The piece was saved. The plan was not.

I set the broken resin aside.

The next day, I saw what had emerged.

The fragments had cured into something unexpected — warped, luminous, glass-like surfaces shaped by interruption rather than control. The resin had recorded the moment it was disturbed. It held tension, movement, and light in a way I had never seen before.

What I first believed was a failure revealed itself as an invitation.

From that moment on, I began to explore intentional interruption — timing the resin not for perfection, but for transformation. I learned how to disrupt the membrane just enough to let the material speak back. I stopped asking the resin to obey and began allowing it to respond.

This is where The Essence Collection was born.

Within The Essence Collection, ashes may be placed, layered, or gently held within form — sometimes contained, sometimes suspended — but they are never constrained or directed. They are folded gently into light and allowed to drift, settle, and rest where they choose. Imperfection is not corrected. Movement is not restrained. What emerges is not symbolic in a literal way — it is experiential, atmospheric, and deeply human.

The Essence Collection exists because something went wrong. I chose not to fix it.