Crafted with Intention: The Rhythm of Slow Hands and Soft Light

There’s a rhythm in the studio—one you can’t hear unless you’re still enough to notice it.

But the work always starts long before I ever step foot in the studio.

A candle begins with a memory. A moment in time. An experience that stays with me. I sit with it. I ask myself—what did it smell like? What did it feel like? Was it warm and comforting, or bright and alive? Then I start building. Testing. Tinkering. Retesting. Until I’ve found the scent that doesn’t just smell good, but feels right. That captures the emotion tucked inside the memory.

From there, everything else follows with care. The wax must burn clean and slow, with a soft shimmer that catches the light just right. The wick is always sustainably forested wood—chosen not only for how it burns, but for the quiet crackle it gives, like a whisper from the past. And the etched glass? That’s on purpose too. It’s so you never lose the glow, even when the candle is almost gone.

There’s a rhythm to all of this. A slow, steady pace that lets intention lead.

Every formulation goes into my master recipe book—each one measured, refined, and recorded so when you light a candle for the second time, or the tenth, it still brings you home to the same feeling. And sometimes, if feedback tells me a candle isn’t singing the way it should, I’ll tweak the formula. Because craftsmanship isn’t just about precision—it’s about evolution.

To me, candle making is where art meets science. It's not about mass production. It's about craftsmanship.

I think of my grandmother often when I work. Her hands always struck me—weathered, strong, soft—but it wasn’t just her hands. It was the way she moved. With intention. With gentleness. With purpose. Watching her was like watching someone who stirs love into a pot of something nourishing on the stove without ever saying a word. That’s what I bring into my studio. Not just technique, but presence.

So when you light one of my candles, you’re holding more than wax and wick. You’re holding a story. A moment remembered. A scent crafted by hand, with memory, science, and intention.
And in that soft flicker of candlelight... maybe you’ll find a rhythm of your own.

- Lori