If you’ve ever loved so deeply it felt like your heart learned a new rhythm, the kind of love that changes the way you move through the world forever, then you already know where this story begins.
BUTTONNOSES: Where It All Began
For more than a decade, I ran BUTTONNOSES Pet Care and Rescue. It wasn’t just a cute name—it was a way of loving.
Every tiny soul who passed through my hands became family. Some stayed briefly, some for years, but all of them left their mark. They were all BUTTONNOSES. Every single one.
Pet care brought joy and familiarity.
Rescue held love and loss side by side—senior dogs, special needs, fragile bodies with enormous hearts.
And when one was lost, the grief felt deeply personal — because it was.
It was meaningful work.
It was heartbreaking work.
And eventually, it asked more of me than I could give.
Biggie, Snails, and the Beginning of Mini Snail Arts
Mr. Big—my Biggie—was the tiniest of tiny BUTTONNOSES, barely two pounds, rescued from a nightmare but determined to live a life filled with joy.
He glued himself to my chest all day, as if that was the safest place to be. Somehow, on those impossibly small shoulders, he carried my entire universe. He truly was my whole world.
Near the end, after losing the use of his back end, Biggie dragged himself across the floor—still happy, still determined. As he moved, he left a small trail behind him, like a tiny traveling snail.
That trail became his symbol.
His story.
A quiet reminder that he was still moving forward, even when life was cruel.
I didn’t know then how much I would need that image— or how often it would return to me later.
When Loss Came All at Once
When Biggie got his wings and flew away, something in me split open.
And then more losses followed—one after another, without pause. For more than two years, life decided not to give me a break from loss.
There was no time to recover between heartbreaks, no space to catch my breath.
Only the weight of love with nowhere to go. Only agony. Constantly gasping for air.
I carried my grief the only way I knew how—forward, in darkness, without a map.
Turning Grief Into Colour
Eventually, the weight of grief needed somewhere to land. Art became the place where it could rest—if only for a moment. Not to escape the pain, but to sit with it, softening its edges with colour, shimmer, and quiet light.
Each brushstroke became a way to stay connected. Each piece, a small act of remembering.
That’s when Biggie returned—this time as a guide. In every snail that appears in my work, he is there. Not only as memory, but as presence.
Mini Snail Arts grew from that connection—a way of carrying love forward slowly and intentionally, without leaving anything behind.
A Quiet Invitation
If you’ve found your way here, welcome to my forest of love and memories.
Whether you’re holding grief, love, or both at once, this is a gentle place to pause.
A place where memory is cherished.
Where love doesn’t disappear.
Where we keep going—slowly—together.
