Geode

To the untrained eye, a geode is just a rock—dusty, lumpy, ordinary. But those who dare to crack them open are rewarded with the surprise of crystalline brilliance. That was the inspiration behind this subterranean celebration of hidden wonders and secret sparkles.

During a local music festival, ceramic geodes were stealthily tucked into the coat pockets of strangers—an unexpected invitation waiting to be discovered. Those adventurous enough to break theirs open found inside a note and a map, directing them to a cow field in the middle of nowhere. There, a metal ladder descended into darkness—into the lava-carved depths of the Kuna Caves, an unexpected wonder!

Guests made the long climb down, arriving in a cavern transformed. They were welcomed with geode-shaped appetizers and root vegetables wrapped in herbs and clay, roasted until fragrant and then smashed open with hammers—delightfully messy and immensely satisfying. Colorful sauces awaited like hidden veins of flavor. Dessert brought edible geodes glinting with sugar crystals, nestled among fresh fruit on rocky platters.

As the meal wound down, guests were handed headlamps and invited to explore deeper into the tunnels. There, more treasures glinted in the dark: handmade glass crystal sculptures, each one reflecting the thrill of discovery.

Geode was an ode to the underground, the unexpected, and the joy of breaking things open—only to find they hold more beauty than you imagined.

Lady Fern’s Soiree

Imagine walking through the forest and spotting something strange: a single purple fern growing in a patch of green. You step closer, curious—and that’s when you see it: a handwritten invitation to a secret dinner party.

It sounds like a fairytale, but for a few lucky wanderers near Eugene, Oregon, it was real. On May Day, they joined Lady Fern herself for a twilight feast beneath sparkling crystallized seedpods, celebrating the return of spring with a menu of all-purple foods, each dish flavored by the forest around them.

This gathering was part botanical homage, part edible spell—a gentle disruption of the everyday. Created as a gift for the curious, it asked nothing in return but wonder.

Moss Gazing

This magical gathering was a Pacific Northwest take on the Japanese tradition of “Hanami,” tree-blossom observing. Instead of reminding us of the frailty of life through ethereal blossoms, moss reminds us of the constancy of life through ancient plants. Mosses were the first plants to emerge from the ocean and conquer the land. They range in size drastically and can be found in almost every ecosystem on earth. They have been here far longer than humans have existed.  

So when life gets overwhelming and my problems seem larger than myself, I escape into the woods and practice the art of moss-gazing. That’s what I invited my guests to do with me this magical night- to make a point to notice the minute and the tiny; the dramatic landscapes found within the soft carpet of moss underfoot and the diversity of flavors hidden under a rotten log. Each dish was a tribute to the overlooked—the textures and flavors of the forest floor, reimagined through the alchemy of food and flame, glass and fire. Edible landscapes emerged from decomposed leaves, candied fungi, and wild herbs, nestled in vessels that shimmered with glass lichen and moss made of stars. Everything they dined on (and dined out of) was inspired by the delicate wonders of the forest floor, transformed through the poetry of manipulated ingredients and manipulated silica.

We did not dine at ground level, but we dined close to it—in spirit and in sensation. That night, guests gathered at a long table blanketed in living moss, beneath an installation of draped greenery echoing the misty rainforests around us for a completely immersive experience. Moss Gazing was a meditation on resilience, wonder, and the power of noticing. Just remember, if you’re having trouble seeing the big picture, just look closer.