For about a year, I worked for the company as a Web Master: I spent my days on the computer, on the phone with clients, chasing deadlines and goals. We had just faced the Covid-19 pandemic, and that period moved something inside me.

And between one pandemic and another, Davide and I managed to fulfill our dream of moving in together (alas, for work reasons we left the countryside to move to the city, to Turin) in an apartment we had just renovated, and in the discreet noise of the city I began to hear an insistent voice: I had to do something to feel alive, truly .

Fearing the loss of the natural beauty of my countryside, in the months before we moved in, between one pandemic and another, I went to the woods near my parents' house and collected large, gnarled branches, full of stories, and crafted them until they became chandeliers for our new home.

Some time ago I had created one of those “moss” paintings for Davide (we all call it that but... it's lichen!) A little green world enclosed in a frame , a breath of fresh air brought to the wall.

An empty day, a drawer that opens

There was a moment when I felt lost. Not unhappy, just distant.
I went down to the cellar, for no real reason, and found a box containing the lichen used for the painting. I held it in my hands and asked myself, "Isn't there anything I can do with this lichen?"

That question was a turning point. I ordered the necessary materials, with the timid enthusiasm of first-timers, and began experimenting. I tried, I failed, I started again. And one day, between one attempt and another, the first jewels were born. I fell in love .

Summer 2021: The Beginning of a Love Story

That summer, I realized something was happening : nature, which I had always held dear, was becoming form, light, presence. No longer just a need, but a gesture.

On September 24, 2021 (my birthday), I decided to give that gesture a name: Deb's Nature Art . It was my little escape from the world, a green refuge inside a glass sphere, a yes to beauty that endures.

I started doing markets. I prepared each piece as if it were a thoughtful gift, doing and undoing until I felt it was "right." I met people who stopped to look, who recognized something of themselves in a flower: a memory, a promise. So, day after day, Deb's grew , becoming less of an escape and more of a home. I felt at home , or perhaps I had simply found myself again?

From the laboratory to the hearts of people

In the beginning, it was me and the table at home, with the tools clinking softly and time stretching out. Then came the markets, the glances, the stories. Some pieces accompanied important moments (promises, returns, new beginnings) . Every time a jewel found its perfect fit, I felt that Deb's wasn't just "mine," but a bridge between me, nature, and the person who would wear it.

Little by little, Deb's Nature Art became simply Deb’s . Not a pastime, not an experiment, but a journey. A way of saying "I'm here" without raising one's voice. An invitation to stay present, to protect what is alive, to let gentleness be strength.

I don't want to stop: even though years have passed, I've only just begun.
I continue because every creation is an act of listening . Because in the slow rhythm of the hands I find the truest part of myself. Because when someone says to me , "This jewel makes me feel good," I understand that beauty is not a luxury: it is a human necessity.

This is how Deb's was born . From a missing forest, from a drawer in the cellar, from a simple question and a yes. A yes that continues, piece by piece.

This story is also about you

If you find yourself in this longing for care and truth, if you seek a detail that follows not fashion but the heart's time, then perhaps Deb's is already with you. Perhaps in a small flower waiting to become light, in a sphere that holds a memory, in a flower that never ceases to bloom.

Deb's, today, is this: a small but great promise . A natural world that lets itself be worn, to remind us, every day, that we are alive.