About

Flowers are in my blood. Growing up my grandma would take me on walks almost every day. We would pick wild flowers by the playground and she would carefully arrange them on her 100-year-old flower press. They would disappear under the heavy iron plate and emerge a week later, paper thin and perfectly preserved. She would tell me stories of her mom, Maymie, who tended to chickens in the yard, always had red lipstick in her apron and loved peonies.

At home my mom loved flowers in her own way. As a photographer she took still-life images of countless roses, misting each with a spray bottle to produce little droplets of water that stood proud on the petals. She would show me how to work with light and edit them so they looked like you could touch them when printed on paper.

Years later in school I began sketching flowers while in class. It was almost instinctual at this point, drawing each one without even thinking. Once home I began to paint the messy pencil marks, and secretly hoped Maymie was smiling above.

We hope you love the flowers as much as we do.

- Isla, Founder