I'm Rosella, the artist and founder behind these living miniatures. My obsession with small worlds started early, from the tiny, perfect Sanrio room displays of my childhood to my growing LEGO collection. I’ve always been captivated by miniatures because they represent idealized worlds where the possibilities are endless.

The Missing Green Thumb

I grew up in a literal jungle in San Francisco. My dad has a legendary green thumb; in our small backyard in the windy, hardy neighborhood of Visitacion Valley, he managed to coax 12-foot tomato vines out of the soil alongside sweet potatoes, citrus trees, and strawberries. Inside, he grew Pothos vines that encircled the dining room ceiling. To anyone passing by, it looked like nature was staging a friendly takeover of our home.

I didn't think I inherited that gift. For years, every succulent I bought shriveled, and every gift orchid inevitably turned into a dead stick.

Green to the Green Stuff

It turns out I was just really "green" when it came to the whole green plant thing. My luck didn't change until I bought a small umbrella plant from Whole Foods for a kitchen photo op. To my surprise, it stayed alive. I realized it wasn’t magic, it was placement.

I grew bolder. Even though my house is generally dark, I realized I could hack the lighting by swapping regular bulbs for grow lights. I learned that a struggling plant isn't always a failure; sometimes it just hasn't found its happy place yet.

The Accidental Origin Story

The real turning point came when I was asked to make centerpieces for my nephew’s baby shower. I thought it would be easy peasy. I’d just order potted flowers from my weekly CSA delivery, add a ribbon, and be done.

When the boxes arrived, my heart sank. Instead of blooming narcissus, I had six wooden crates of what looked like plain green onions. I panicked. With less than a day to go, I had to fix "bare bones" plants. I noticed the spaces between the bulbs and realized I could fill them with a story.

I ran to the store, grabbed every fairy light I could find, and sourced miniature accessories that I knew would mean something to my nephew and his wife. I stayed up all night assembling those tiny scenes with lighting and ribbons. The next day, the centerpieces were a hit—people were actually excited to take them home. It was in that moment of creative panic that the idea for Reverie Terrariums was born.

My Philosophy

Today, I create these tailored environments for people who want a whimsical break from reality. Every terrarium is a modern take on the fairy garden, curated with pieces from other independent makers and built with the lessons I’ve learned about light, care, and the simple joy of finding magic in the details.