We recently had the chance to connect with Angie Chiuzzi and have shared our conversation below.
Angie, so good to connect and we’re excited to share your story and insights with our audience. There’s a ton to learn from your story, but let’s start with a warm up before we get into the heart of the interview. What makes you lose track of time—and find yourself again?
Surfing is where I lose track of time in the best way. It’s the paddle out, the stillness between sets, the way the ocean demands my full presence. When I’m out there, its a chance to connect with the sea, where I can ask questions to the universe. Sometimes I can tune in and be quiet, and other times my mind is racing. The ocean accepts every version of whoever I am that day.
Surfing reminds me how to surrender. To read the energy around me, move with it instead of against it. That rhythm is the same one I look for when I’m designing flowers. Finding balance, flow, and unexpected beauty in natural form.
It’s humbling. Some days are frustrating, some are magic. But I always feel that the underlying message of the ocean is to continue to work at untangling the patterns and beliefs that no longer serve me. Whether it’s presented as a challenge or a moment of joy. Each day is different and a gift to experience!
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Hi! I’m Angie Chiuzzi. The creator behind Flor de Mar, a floral design studio based in Santa Cruz, CA. I create seasonal, garden-style floral arrangements for weddings and special events, using locally grown flowers and sustainable, foam-free mechanics.
My work is deeply inspired by the wild coastlines of both Santa Cruz and Patagonia. Growing up in both CA and Argentina, I find the coastlines so similar and yet feel totally distinct from one another.
I’m drawn to textures, movement, and the imperfect beauty of things that grow and shift with the seasons. I believe flowers share subtleties and language with us that prove to be more and more miraculous, we just have to remember how to listen. My goal is always to design with this listening in mind! With that means designing florals with the landscape, the season, and the feeling behind the occasion.
Right now, I’m focused on collaborating with clients who care about sustainability and want something truly personal and artful for their celebration. Many of my designs are paired with handmade ceramic vessels. I believe that flower and form go hand in hand, making each piece a unique fusion of nature and art. Whether it’s an intimate elopement or a large wedding, I love creating floral experiences that feel grounded, hopeful, and a little wild.
Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. Who were you before the world told you who you had to be?
To me, the world in reference to humans and the world in reference to the planet have always felt like two separate concepts. But the more I think about this in my day-to-day life, the more I realize they are all parts of the same whole.
When I think back on myself as a child, I feel lucky that the content and theories of society didn’t reach me until I was older and in school. I’m grateful my parents could see that connection to source and allowed me to simply be what I was. I was curious and observant—always collecting insects and creatures, mesmerized by their movements, and deeply drawn to animals.
I was the kid making potions out of flower petals and mud, spending hours in the neighborhood trees watching trails of ants and making up stories about their world. I painted animals in wild colors and believed I could truly be a bird if I ran fast enough with outstretched arms. I found sanctuary at the beach and playing in the sea, by making structures in the sand, looking for sand crabs, and jumping over waves finding moments of weightlessness.
I trusted my instincts more then. I found beauty and curiosity in things most adults didn’t notice. I built a quiet language with the natural world. And as I reflect on that time through the lens of this question, I know that much of my life’s purpose is to untangle all the “doing” I’ve carried so far, and remember that this kind of play and curiosity is simply a way of living, where creativity is innate and expressed in its most genuine form.
What did suffering teach you that success never could?
I think we all innately avoid suffering. It seems built into our natural being. It’s something that binds all living things together in experience. I’ve thought a lot about why suffering even exists in the first place. How can something so painful be such a necessary part of being alive on this planet? And in my own life, I often go back and question why certain events had to happen to me.
As much as I try to find reasons for it and search for answers, I know that suffering has offered me many perspectives and a way to relate to others with empathy. If life were only success, I would have no idea how multifaceted this world actually is. I wouldn’t know how to find beauty in the dark corners, how to observe, how to play, how to create. It has also taught me boundaries and expanded my personal values and virtues.
It makes free will in life all the more special and genuine. I continue to ask the question of the purpose of suffering over and over, and over time I feel like I receive small nuggets of insight. I often forget these moments, and yet the universe keeps presenting me with glimpses of the beauty that contrast offers. Of course, constant success might seem breezy and easy.. but how would growth happen?
Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. What’s a belief you used to hold tightly but now think was naive or wrong?
I used to have the VERY harsh belief that talent should be the most important attribute in what you do, and that you either had it or you didn’t. And if you didn’t, you should just find something else to try until you found it.
When I first started my career in floral design, it was purely a discovery process. A fun way to play with shape, form, and texture. I didn’t think much about whether I had the talent to make flowers look beautiful. I knew I wasn’t “good”, but somehow I gave myself room to explore in that process of beginning something new. But somewhere along the way, I picked up the belief that I was completely talentless… that my style was horrible, that I didn’t know how to combine colors or textures, or follow the rules of what makes a good design.
I began relying heavily on my business partner at the time, who I believed carried all the talent in the world. Everything she made was beautiful. In my head, my work was constantly being compared—and most of the time, corrected—until it no longer felt like mine. I truly believed I had no future in becoming good at this. That belief went on for years.
Even now, on my own, I still work on that pattern of thinking. I have to actively choose to believe otherwise, to offer myself more loving thoughts, and to give myself grace. It’s not easy, but over time I’ve learned to sense when that thinking is about to creep in. I’ve quit a few times because of it.. and yet it always calls me back.
Why? Because my initial love for this was so innate. It started with genuine curiosity and creating from the heart. Looking back now with more experience, I can critique that early work and see it for what it was. Just a beginning. But what I remember most is the *feeling* of it. That’s the art and the beauty to me.
So who gets to decide whether you have “talent”? Whether it’s you or someone else, not everyone will like your art. It’s impossible to appeal to everyone. Why listen to the voice that says you’re not good enough? (This is a true rabbit hole question, perhaps for another thread.. haha) The real question is: Are you creating from your heart? How does it *feel* to you when you’re making it?
Was your inspiration the way a butterfly fluttered its wings on a flower you saw that morning? Was it the light catching the edges of those wings? The scent in the air? The rare quiet that only the morning offers? Your mood in that moment? “Good” art comes from diving into experience and the flow of what’s in front of you. If you can translate that feeling into your work, it doesn’t matter how much talent or formal training you have. Of course, practice and repetition bring refinement, but it’s really about developing your own language, one that nobody else can express but you!
For me, it’s a lot like surfing. When I’m paddling into a wave and my mind is clear, I can read the water more elegantly, feel into my body, and move with the timing and line the wave offers. But when my mind is cluttered—competing for a spot in the lineup, dwelling on a wave I wiped out on, trying to mark my ability in the crowd…my attitude shifts. I get grumpy, I miss my timing, I fall more, I lose balance. My time in the water gets consumed by thoughts and reactions. I lose sight of the sea, the wildlife, the total joy of flying down a wave.
It’s the same with art. When you’re relaxed and connected to the feeling, everything flows. When you’re in your head, you miss the beauty right in front of you.
Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. How do you know when you’re out of your depth?
In floral design, I know I’m out of my depth when I’m looking at the work in front of me and nothing feels cohesive. When I’m second-guessing every choice and I’ve lost the thread of what I’m trying to say. It’s the moment when I’m no longer creating from instinct, but scrambling to remember rules or copying someone else’s style. That’s my cue to pause, step back, and reconnect with the original inspiration rather than forcing it. With flowers it can be tricky when I recognize this later on. If I can approach ordering flowers in a more centered state, or go to the market with a “loose” vision and let the flowers surprise me and inspire me, then the rest flows a little easier.
Surfing is the same. I know I’m out of my depth when I can’t read the waves or there’s a heavy crowd. My timing is off, and my body is tense instead of fluid. My attention shifts from enjoying the ocean to just trying to catch a wave without anyone on it already. In those moments, I know it’s time to either let a few rotations of people get their waves or get out of the water and watch for a while.
Still, I am learning to recognize when I feel like I’m out of my depth. I’m switching from feeling that it’s a “failure” to, “it’s a signal”. It means I’m in a space where I can grow, but I need to slow down, reassess, and decide whether to push through or step back and learn before I dive in again.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.flordemardesigns.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/flordemar.designs
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/angiechiuzzi
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/flordemardesigns
Image Credits
Images 1-3 and Personal Photo: Stephanie Vegliante
Images 4-7, 16-18: Myself
Images 8,9: Wave Chasers Peralta Photography
Images 10-15: Meghan Baskin
so if you or someone you know deserves recognition please let us know here.
