One of the features that will be released on our website will be the build-your-own gift set!
You will be able to choose box design, paper colour, candle size/glass/scent & add any of our products!
Gift cards will be available too! Create the perfect gift 💝 🎁
" if it comes, let it come. It it goes, it's ok, let it go. Let things come and go. Stay calm, don't let anything disturb your peace, and carry on " / G. Kent
Se dovessi rappresentare la calma e la pace, quelle cose che spesso ci mancano nella vita di tutti i giorni, userei questa foto.
Ci agitiamo se qualcosa scombina i nostri piani perfetti, corriamo a destra e a manca e se ci fermiamo per due minuti ci sembra di perdere un'eternità di tempo, e di arrivare tardi anche se nessuno ci sta davvero aspettando.
Mi riprometto di pensare a questa foto, ai passi fatti senza fretta, alla luce calda del tramonto, al bacio tra un raggio di sole e questi fiorellini nascosti nel sottobosco, ogni volta che l'impazienza e la fretta cercheranno di prendere il sopravvento nella mia vita. E spero che funzioni.
Domani paesaggio però! 🤙
The Sun is the greatest living being we can directly see and identify. It is essentially the goal.
It constantly shines and gives 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, light, guidance, life, and warmth 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵.
It 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 and 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨.
It has no ego, it has no fears, as it knows its the biggest baddest in the sky.
𝘍𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, powerful, sure, it is father to us all.
Nature, that washed her hands in milk,
And had forgot to dry them,
Instead of earth took snow and silk,
At love's request to try them,
If she a mistress could compose
To please love's fancy out of those.
Her eyes he would should be of light,
A violet breath, and lips of jelly;
Her hair not black, nor overbright,
And of the softest down her belly;
As for her inside he'd have it
Only of wantonness and wit.
At love's entreaty such a one
Nature made, but with her beauty
She hath framed a heart of stone;
So as Love, by ill destiny,
Must die for her whom nature gave him
Because her darling would not save him.
But time, which nature doth despise
And rudely gives her love the lie,
Makes hope a fool, and sorrow wise,
His hands do neither wash nor dry;
But being made of steel and rust,
Turns snow and silk and milk to dust.
The light, the belly, lips, and breath,
He dims, discolors, and destroys;
With those he feeds but fills not death,
Which sometimes were the food of joys.
Yea, time doth dull each lively wit,
And dries all wantonness with it.
Oh, cruel time, which takes in trust
Our youth, or joys, and all we have,
And pays us but with age and dust;
Who in the dark and silent grave
When we have wandered all our ways
Shuts up the story of our days.
Often I ponder on why Mother Nature
Is sporadically insane with jealousy
Committing many a time unspeakable atrocities
Tornados, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions
It showers, making its necessary modifications
Tidal waves are its trademark of destruction
Of natural and artificial creations
But Mother Nature always makes up
With multiplication and replication of the living!