Over the past year and even before that - I’ve shared glimpses of my journey here: reflections on comparison, identity, and creativity. But this piece goes a little deeper.
To give it some context: I’ve now lived in Bali for six years. It’s where all our jewellery is made - and it’s where the brand Still life quietly came to life.
Bali didn’t just influence my lifestyle, it reshaped the way I think, live, and create. And because this shift gave the brand its soul, it feels only natural to share what this island has actually taught me.
When I first arrived in Bali, I had no idea how deeply it would change me. I came with a whole set of beliefs I thought were true - shaped by years in London (and later in Prague), cities driven by ambition, performance, and the constant chase for “more.” I thought I had it figured out. I was doing what I was “supposed” to do - working hard, achieving, moving forward. But the longer I stayed on the island, the more I realised I might’ve been heading in the wrong direction all along.
The contrast between the life I had lived and the one unfolding around me here was striking. In London and Prague, everything felt urgent - success was loud, flashy, often performative, and always just out of reach. Here, things move slower. People pause. They’re present. They devote time to rituals, offerings, and connection - not because it’s on their to-do list, but because it’s part of life.
It made me question almost everything I’d believed in until then. Bali didn’t just bring me peace. Gently but profoundly it showed me that the things I once thought were important might not be important at all. It slowly peeled back layers I didn’t even know I was carrying. And in that space of quiet, I started to see myself more clearly—not the person I was trying to become, but the one I was underneath all the noise.
Over time, I began to see I was carrying beliefs that weren’t really serving me. I felt like I had to keep rushing, do more, do better, do it faster. But Bali has this quiet way of unravelling that mindset. Things unfold differently here. People connect without expectation. They smile. They have time. No one’s in a hurry, and no one has to prove anything. And in that stillness, I began to unlearn.
Back home, success was tied to money and performance. But the more time I spent here, the more I noticed the small things. The morning offerings on doorsteps. Families gathered in rituals. A stranger sharing fruit with you, just because. Gratitude here isn’t something people “practice”- it’s just how they live. And that shifted something deep in me. I still work with full focus—but I no longer believe that my worth depends on how much I achieve or how much I earn.
Living in Bali also made me see my own privilege-in a way I’d never quite grasped before. Access to education, healthcare, the ability to travel, to dream, to start a business- all of that had felt like a given. But here, you meet people who have far less and still live with grace, generosity, and kindness. It’s disarming. And it makes you ask: how much do we really need?
The truth is, many of the people I’ve met here never had the chance to finish school .Meanwhile, I had access to free education - and still complained about deadlines. That perspective will stay with me. The ability to learn, to create, to build something out of nothing - that’s a gift. It’s not a given. I carry that now, with humility.
Living in a different culture quickly teaches you that you’re not the centre of the world - and you’re not meant to be. I’ve learned to let go of expectations. To stop assuming things will work the way I’m used to. To listen more and speak less. And, most importantly, not to project my values onto a place or people who’ve lived their own way for generations. It’s been a lesson in humility—but a beautiful one.
Emotionally, this place opened me more than I expected.
I’ve always been sensitive, but here, that part of me deepened-even when it hurts. I feel things more intensely. Joy, contrast, injustice. Sometimes it’s too much, and it’s hard to hold. But I wouldn’t trade that sensitivity for anything. I’m just learning to carry it more gently.
Balinese culture and Hinduism also showed me something I never experienced in childhood- a deep reverence for rituals, for spirituality, and for things that can’t easily be explained. I’ve learned to simply observe. Not to interpret everything through a Western lens. Some things are not mine to explain - only to witness with respect.
And maybe the biggest shift of all: my relationship to material things. When you live in a place where joy comes from simplicity, presence, and nature, you start to realise how empty our usual pursuits can feel. A new phone, a bigger flat, more stuff- it all fades. Real connection, time, stillness, meaning- that’s what stays. That’s what matters.
And yet, perhaps paradoxically I design jewellery for women who live in cities like Prague, London and elsewhere.
Women who might, like I once was, feel consumed by the pace of urban life. A life that’s full of beauty and culture—but also pressure, noise, and speed. My pieces are made here in Bali, slowly, carefully, by the hands of local artisans—but they’re worn in environments that move much faster.
That contrast, for me, is the essence of Still life-the tension between silence and noise, speed and pause, modern and handmade. I don’t think we need to abandon one world to live in the other. Maybe the magic lies in learning how to balance both.
If my jewellery carries anything, it’s a quiet reminder: You don’t have to rush. You can be strong and soft. You can move fast and still stay rooted in yourself. You can wear something modern - and still feel that it has depth.
Because even in the middle of a busy life, we need something that brings us back to ourselves. That’s what Bali gave me.
And I hope a small part of that lives in every piece that finds its way out into the world.
If you, too, feel that pull between the city and the stillness, the pace and the peace- maybe these pieces will speak to you.
Each one is made slowly, here in Bali, with intention and with love from people I deeply respect.