Epicuria did not begin with a business plan. It began with an unexpected discovery.
I have always loved plants—their scent, their movement and the quiet way they bring life into a space. But I had never imagined that this love would one day lead me to stone.
When I first came across a candle held within a vessel carved from natural stone, something about it stayed with me. The contrast felt almost impossible: stone, formed over millions of years, holding a flame that would exist only for a moment. One was ancient, enduring and still; the other was warm, fragrant and fleeting.
I became completely captivated.
I began searching for different kinds of marble, onyx and travertine, studying their colours, textures and natural formations. The deeper I looked, the more extraordinary each piece became. Every vein marked a different history. Every variation had been shaped by pressure, minerals and time. No two pieces could ever be exactly the same.
But I wanted to understand more than the finished object. I wanted to know how a raw piece of stone became a vessel that could be held, used and lived with.
From Stone to Vessel
That curiosity eventually took me to factories in China, where I saw the making process for myself.
Before this experience, I understood that working with stone required skill. What I had not understood was just how many hands, decisions and stages were involved.
The stone must first be selected and cut from a much larger block. It is then measured, shaped, hollowed, ground and polished—slowly and carefully.
A small mistake can crack the material or reveal an imperfection hidden beneath its surface. Even the creation of a relatively small vessel requires patience, precision and a deep understanding of the stone.
Watching this process completely changed the way I saw the finished piece.
What appears simple and effortless has already travelled a very long way. It carries the geological time in which the stone was formed, the distance it has crossed and the hours of craftsmanship required to shape it.
I realised that a vessel made through such a process should never feel disposable.
It deserved to become something that could remain in a person’s life long after the candle had finished burning.
Choosing the Scent
When I returned home, another part of the journey began.
I started researching wax, scent and the way fragrance behaves when held within natural stone. One of the most important decisions was whether Epicuria should use conventional fragrance oils or botanical essential oils.
Fragrance could not be an afterthought. If stone represented permanence, I wanted scent to represent the living world—the plants, flowers, woods and leaves that exist for a much shorter time.
I chose to work with botanical essential oils, blended with a natural soy and coconut wax. This decision required patience. Essential oils do not always behave like conventional fragrance oils in wax.
Each blend needed to be researched, tested and adjusted to find the right balance between scent, flame and atmosphere.
But it was important to me that the fragrance felt connected to the origin of the brand.
The stone brings weight, texture and permanence. The botanical scent brings softness, memory and life. When the candle is lit, these two very different elements meet.
That meeting is where Epicuria exists.
The Beginning of Epicuria
Slowly, the idea became a collection, and the collection became Epicuria.
Every vessel is selected for its individual character and hand-poured in Australia. The natural veining is not treated as an imperfection or something that needs to be made uniform. It is the identity of the piece—a visible record of how nature formed it.
When the candle has finished, the vessel is designed to remain. It may be refilled with a new candle insert, or used as a vase, a holder for everyday objects, or simply kept as a sculptural piece.
Its purpose can change as life changes.
I did not create Epicuria to make objects that are briefly wanted and quickly replaced. I created it from a growing respect for materials, craftsmanship and everything that must happen before an object arrives in our hands.
To me, true luxury is not about excess. It is about choosing fewer things, understanding where they came from and allowing them to become part of our lives.
Epicuria is ultimately a tribute to time.
The millions of years held within the stone.
The brief life of a plant and its scent.
The hours spent shaping each vessel.
The quiet moments created when a flame is lit.
And the years an object may continue to live with us.
These are objects shaped by time—created to hold a moment, and made to remain.
