For now, anonymous.
The names will remain anonymous. For now, we’ll call them by their star signs: Leo and Gemini. Two people behind the work. The rest can wait. You may already have a theory. They’re happy to let you keep it.
Fire meets air. A little theatre, a lot of curiosity, and the sort of chemistry that rarely leaves an idea alone. One thought becomes a conversation; a conversation becomes something neither would have made on their own.
Life became material.
Then life asked more of them. Loss. Grief. Pressure that followed them into quiet rooms. Anxiety. Days when their mental health changed how much of the world they could carry.
Rebuilding was rarely dramatic. It was getting up again. Finding words again. Learning that they could change and still matter to each other. Making room for versions of themselves they had not met yet.
Somewhere in that rebuilding, they found their way back to the friendship beneath it all. The connection could change shape without losing its meaning.
A feeling, given form.
A colour to settle on. A phrase to get just right. Something they can turn over in their hands. Creating gives that restless energy somewhere to go, and gives them a way to meet each other in it.
Each collection holds a piece of their evolution: the confidence they had to borrow before they felt it, the humour that let them breathe, the anger they learned to name, the tenderness they kept choosing.
Sometimes a line is something one of them needed to hear. Sometimes it is something one could only understand because of the other.
Room for the next idea.
23 began as a favourite number. It also became a way to make room for how their minds work. They are always dreaming up the next thing, and the happiness is in bringing it to life.
A small run of wall art lets them give an idea their attention, then follow the next one. The work gets to keep evolving. They do too. The keyrings take those ideas into everyday life as open editions, with no numbered production limit.