A bouquet is never just about flowers.
It’s about intention, restraint, and what’s left unsaid.

Like the things we make, it isn’t meant to be loud or ornamental. It’s deliberate, honest, and assembled to be lived with—not preserved.

A good bouquet doesn’t seek attention. It belongs to the person holding it. It ages quickly and without apology—petals bruise, stems bend, scents fade. Impermanence isn’t a flaw; it’s the point.

We believe in subtraction. Remove the excess. Let what remains feel raw and personal, like flowers tied by hand.

A bouquet doesn’t try to last forever.
It exists fully, briefly, and honestly.