BEHIND THE SCENES: The Stillness Behind the Italian Garden

Some gardens bloom with flowers.

This one blossoms with stillness, memory, and time.

It doesn't ask for attention — it invites it quietly.

Step into the story behind our Italian Garden — where classical symmetry meets heartfelt serenity.

Some Buildings Are Not Built to Shelter, But to Make People Stop.

Farrin Lyn had never stood beneath the columns of the Temple of Asclepius. But when she first saw it—through a photograph bathed in golden light—she felt something shift. The sun dipped through the trees, painting the stone in honeyed warmth, and rippling gently on the lake below. That image became her anchor.

Though miles away from Villa Borghese, she began to imagine what it might feel like to rest there: the hush between footsteps, the softness of light on marble, the quiet breath of a garden built not to impress, but to heal.

That idea stayed with her—not as a plan, but as a feeling. And slowly, the NIFELIZ ITALIAN GARDEN began to take form.

“In a fast world,” Farrin said, “we all need a place to exhale.”

The Temple at the Heart

"If this model were a story," Farrin says, "the temple is the protagonist."  Standing in the center, its proportions and symmetry set the tone for the entire scene. While the structure seems simple at first glance, the challenge was in the details — particularly at this small scale. Farrin used textured bricks and gears to form classical Roman-style columns, creating depth and character through layering and variation.

She designed the walls with protruding cornices and uneven textures using rail parts and studded bricks. Over them, vines snake upward — giving the impression that nature and history have settled in together.

The temple's pediment was a puzzle of its own. Rather than rely on printed parts, Farrin used ingot bricks, brackets, and even chains to sculpt a richly classical pattern. Where real-world temples would have statues, Farrin built a small figure using slope pieces and wedge plates — a nod to Aesculapius, the Roman god of healing.

The Scene Around the Stone

To bring the scene to life, Farrin focused on contrast. She designed soft, curving trees to offset the rigid geometry of the temple. Their organic shapes lend a sense of movement, while hints of purple break up the greenery and add a gentle touch of mystery.

The lake was built using transparent blue and green plates over layers of light green bricks — a time-consuming technique that gives the surface a soft, shimmering depth when placed under real light. Around the lake, animals, boats, and a small fountain breathe life into the scene, making it feel not just designed — but inhabited.

DESIGNED TO FEEL LIKE A BREATH OF SUNLIGHT

"When I first saw the model," the visual designer recalled, "I imagined a quiet Italian room, sunlight pouring in, someone calmly building by the window." To match that mood, she chose a deep green background for the packaging—echoing the garden's foliage—paired with a soft yellow serif font for a vintage touch. Balancing light between the pale temple and dark base during rendering was tricky, but the goal remained clear: let every visual element feel warm, calm, and quietly timeless.

A Garden, and a Feeling

For Farrin, the Italian Garden isn't just another display model. It's an invitation. "My hope," she says, "is that someone might build this on a quiet afternoon, with the window open and the light just right. That in the small details — the bricks, the trees, the water — they might find a few minutes of peace."

Because some places don't need walls to be shelter.

Some gardens don't bloom with flowers, but with stillness.