Step inside Flore Botanical Alchemy and be transported to another era. This is not just a perfumery—it’s a sanctuary of scent, memory, and craftsmanship. Designed to evoke a turn-of-the-century apothecary, the space is filled with violet glass bottles, antique furnishings, and raw botanical specimens, all bathed in soft natural light. Monochromatic tones of black and white allow the golden hues of beeswax candles and vibrant tinctures to shine through.

Here, natural perfumes and elixirs are crafted slowly, using old-world techniques and rare ingredients. It’s a place where the pace of modern life is left at the door, and visitors are invited to pause, breathe deeply, and reconnect with something timeless. Whether you’re exploring the perfumer’s organ, browsing the cabinet of curiosities, or simply soaking in the mood, Flore is a rare and soulful escape—a hidden gem in the heart of Victoria.

I’ve lived in Victoria long enough to notice when something’s shifting—and lately, it’s the bikes. Not just more of them, but all kinds: cargo bikes with wide front bins carrying groceries, multiple sleepy toddlers, or sometimes even full-grown adults. Dogs in little goggles poke their heads out of rear baskets. Cargo bikes you can rent at Victoria Electric Bikes. I’ve seen couches balanced across back racks, lumber strapped down with bungee cords, and one glorious rig with a full garden rake sticking off the back with a flag.

People are customizing bikes with paniers, child seats, and clever attachments, transforming them into full service vehicles. It’s like the city is slowly being redesigned at bike level. It’s a beautiful kind of practical, and it makes me feel like Victoria’s not just talking about sustainability—we’re pedaling right into it, one modified bike at a time.

As an abstract artist based in Victoria, I've been creating ocean-inspired jewelry and mixed media designs. I’m drawn to experimental processes and aim to repurpose materials, weaving sustainability into my practice.

The ocean has always called to me—first at my family’s cabin on Gossip Island, where I spent childhood days exploring tide lines and channeling my inner mermaid. Since moving to Victoria in 2019, daily visits to the beach have become a grounding ritual. Foraging for “mermaid treasures”—sea glass, shells, and forgotten sparkles—I imagine their second life in art.

My summer collection reflects these landscapes, using repurposed chains, charms, and found objects. The crashing rhythm of ferries and cruise ships off Dallas Road echoes through the work, layered with memory and place. I revisit my father’s old fishing tackle box—shiny fish reflectors, hooks, pearls—and wrap a wishbone in wire for luck. My mother’s abalone shell shimmers in homage.

These pieces hold stories of the South Island—an intimate archive of land, ocean, and lineage. My work is an echo of home, shaped by waves, worn by wind, and guided by tide.

My connection to surfing—and to the South Island landscape—was shaped early on by my uncle. His stories of an existence based solely around surfing left a lasting impression. Later, it was my mother, who nurtured that passion, driving me to the beach for countless surf trips. Through her ceramic work I began to see the ocean’s rhythms reflected in form and glaze.

Surfing gave me a direct, immersive relationship with the coastline. Observing how those experiences could be translated into ceramics sparked my interest in design. Waves become curves, tide lines become texture, and movement becomes form. This lens shaped how I interpret the natural world.

The South Island surf community has a rich connection to small business owners in this city. Many of them share a common instinct: to see nature not just as landscape, but as inspiration—something to be honored and reimagined through their craft. I feel that its evident, by looking at someone’s work, whether they have a strong connection to their environment. And what better place to explore that than this beautiful island we call ‘home’.

We all know design shapes how we live, but a recent evening with my mom reminded me just how much.

She recently installed the Umo app and while she’s fairly tech-savvy, she doesn’t have the built-in instincts of someone raised with digital tools. Thankfully, Umo’s design is friendly. Auto-pay is easy to set up, the scan button is pinned to the bottom navigation bar instead of inside a hidden menu, the app is bright teal, and there’s a cheerful little smiley face—she’s gotten on the bus!

But that’s not the case with all apps and she’s often come up against confusing menus or unintuitive design in the quest to book appointments, pay taxes or update an internet plan.

As services move increasingly into the digital realm, it’s a small but important reminder: good design makes life easier; bad design can become a real-world barrier.

Have you been complaining about our Victoria rain? I know, me too... but let's take a moment to say "thank you" to our very rainy spring for this lovely abundance of spring greenery that it brings.

Herbs like red clover, lemon balm, chickweed, dandelion, and my favorite, stinging nettles, will be popping up all around us to offer an array of healthy edible spring greens.

One of my favorite spots to find them, marking the beginning of harvest season, is along the moist ditches of the Galloping Goose Regional Trail.

Nettles are also high in nutrients and are a great superfood. I also grow nettle on my sub-acre herb farm and use nettles in my Earth's Herbal tea recipes that you can find at our local Habit Coffee shop.