Paradis

What began as a lockdown hobby quickly became a quiet obsession. Living in London without a garden or balcony, I turned to houseplants as a way of staying connected to nature, eventually discovering the world of terrariums, and with it, a deeply rewarding practice of observation, patience, and care.

My experiments started with moss collected from the cracks of a brick wall after a rainy day. Drawn to its texture and resilience, I began researching moss cultivation and terrarium design, rejecting the crystal-filled versions popular online in favour of something more raw, more alive. Old glassware became vessels for living worlds: layers of soil, stone, humidity, and light carefully composed to house miniature forests and farms.

Over time, I built a collection of over 50 living terrariums and three planted aquariums, constructing custom shelving and even a DIY hydroponic cabinet lined with Mylar, equipped with grow lights and solar-powered ventilation. I experimented with micro-greens, mosses, ferns, and fungi... Each with its own rhythm and preferences, each responding (or not) to the conditions I tried to control.

That was the unexpected beauty: you could manage light, water, air but not life itself. Plants, like people, resist perfect prediction. In this unpredictability, I found deep joy.

I now keep a smaller collection, around 15 thriving terrariums in my current flat, reminders of a time when slowness and stillness brought growth, and glass containers held not just plants, but peace.