Margita Alsina lives a fascinating dual existence—by day, she navigates the exacting world of accounting with precision and order, and by night, she dives into the vibrant, imaginative realm of polymer clay art. Bridging these two seemingly opposite spheres, Margita creates a unique artistic voice where logic meets whimsy, discipline embraces chaos, and craft becomes a powerful means of storytelling. From Numbers to Nuance: A Tale of Two Worlds During her professional hours, Margita is immersed in spreadsheets, balance sheets, and meticulous financial reports. “Being creative in my job would probably get me a one-way ticket to prison,” she jokes, highlighting the strict boundaries that define accounting. The predictable, rule-bound environment offers her comfort and control—a necessary counterbalance to the freedom of her artistic efforts. But once the workday ends, Margita’s studio transforms into a vivid playground of color, texture, and surreal imagination. Here, polymer clay is her medium of choice, a tool through which she channels emotions and stories that numbers cannot express. Her signature fruit sculptures—raspberries with rows of sharp teeth and tongues dripping exaggerated saliva—blend meticulous craftsmanship with an unsettling, playful edge. “People are always surprised,” Margita admits. “They don’t expect someone who spends their day with neat rows of numbers to create creatures that look like they might bite you.” This tension between order and chaos lies at the heart of Margita’s art. Her sculptures are not merely decorative but deeply personal, embodying a complex emotional landscape where logic fuels creativity—and, in turn, softens its own rigidity. Latvian Roots: Practicality Meets Creative Revelation Margita’s artistic journey began in Latvia, a country shaped by practicality and an environmental ethos where art traditionally served functional purposes. Growing up, ceramics held food, textiles mended clothes, and embroidery repaired rather than adorned. “Art was about utility, not self-expression,” she explains. Her turning point came late in school during a visual arts class—a “tiny personal revolution” sparked by entering a project into a national competition. This experience revealed that objects could convey feelings and ideas without practical function. “That moment changed everything,” she reflects. From there, Margita explored various crafts—textiles, beads, embroidery—until polymer clay revealed itself as the perfect medium. “It could mimic anything. I could mix colors, cure it at home, shape whatever I wanted. That’s when it hit me,” she recalls. Early whimsical experiments evolved into sophisticated metaphors: her fruit sculptures represent inner worlds, with delicate raspberries symbolizing her younger self and more aggressive, toothy fruits expressing a rebellion against corporate constraints. One standout design, the Angry Cherry Wireless Earphone Holder, doubles as functional jewellery, reflecting her Latvian heritage where beauty serves a purpose. “It’s jewellery, but it does something,” Alsina notes. The Creative Process: Intuition, Tools, and Transformation Margita’s artistic process balances ritual with spontaneity. Though she sketches ideas in a physical planner, she lets intuition guide the forms: “The mouths come first. Only after that do I decide what fruit it’s going to be. Each one has a personality. They’re all different. Just like people.” Her workspace is filled with tools, but only a few are indispensable. She fondly recalls her discontinued FIMO Professional Modelling Drill & Smoothing Tool, vital for finishing surfaces, alongside a craft knife and tissue blade. Pigments add vibrancy, transforming simple clay into living sculptures. “They’re not tools, but they make all the difference,” she says. A pivotal moment in her journey was attending a polymer clay event in Germany, where Alsina expanded her techniques, sanding, drilling, re-baking, after learning from world-class artists. The experience reinvigorated her practice and introduced her to the British Polymer Clay Guild, where she later served on the committee. Her advice for beginners is clear: “Learn from professionals, practice consistently, and avoid reinventing the wheel. Aim to work smarter, not harder.” Building Community: Clayphoria and Beyond Margita’s passion extends beyond her studio to nurturing a global polymer clay community. Through her YouTube channel, MadeByMargita , she shares tutorials, interviews, and behind-the-scenes insights that challenge the notion of polymer clay as “just crafts.” Her latest venture, Clayphoria , captures this mission perfectly. Scheduled for February 2026 in Scotland, Clayphoria is a four-day retreat blending creativity, learning, and connection. “It’s like a summer camp or a big sleepover with friends passionate about clay,” she explains. Unlike typical retreats, Clayphoria fosters a communal spirit with everyone staying together—sharing breakfasts, late-night clay sessions, and casual moments in the bar, sauna, or gym. Shared rooms invite a pyjama-party vibe, where artists bond over clay until sleep claims them. “Being together and claying more are both essential,” she says. “It’s about more than learning—it’s about laughter, friendship, and belonging.” Looking Ahead: Innovation Rooted in Purpose Margita’s work continues to evolve with new collections on the horizon. She is expanding her “fruit salad” series and developing a “creature salad” featuring vegetables, blending beauty with function and honoring her Latvian roots where art serves a practical role. Innovations like fruit-like vessels with hidden compartments and multi-functional jewellery illustrate her commitment to pushing creative boundaries. “Accounting gives me discipline and structure; art gives me freedom and expression,” she reflects. “Together, they make me who I am—a woman unafraid to bite back, both in clay and life.”

Rachel Dyke ’s miniature cakes from Little Things stop you in your tracks with their charm and detail. There’s a quiet magic to these tiny, meticulously crafted cakes—each one a reflection of Rachel’s passion for polymer clay and her journey from a childhood hobbyist to a fine artist. Rachel, now 38, began working with polymer clay at the age of 6, when her parents bought her a few blocks of Fimo. She crafted small animals, foods, and accessories for her Spice Girls Barbie dolls during the '90s. It wasn’t long before her artistic interests shifted to makeup, which became her hyperfixation throughout middle school and high school. In her early 20s, after reading an article about jewelry designer Tarina Tarantino , Rachel picked up the craft again, starting with jewelry before returning to her true love from childhood: sculpting miniature foods and cakes. At this time, Rachel was also attending community college, studying color theory, art history, and sculpting. She merged the lessons from her fine art courses with her polymer clay work, creating a unique blend of technical skill and creative expression. Eventually, makeup took center stage again as she enrolled at the Makeup Designory (MUD) school in Los Angeles, where she honed her skills in beauty makeup, special effects, and prosthetics. However, after working in the industry on music videos and short films, she realized that her true calling lay not in makeup, but in sculpting. In 2014, Rachel transitioned to working at a West Hollywood bakery, decorating elaborate cakes for celebrity kids’ birthdays and movie premieres. But it was when one of her miniatures went viral on social media that everything changed. A miniature cake she made for a bakery in Australia was shared online, and the response was overwhelming. Soon, her work was featured in major publications like Brides , Martha Stewart , and Huffington Post —a testament to her skills and talent. Her skill in transforming polymer clay into incredibly detailed cakes drew us in as well. "What I love about polymer clay is its versatility," she says. "It allows me to do everything from color matching to making food, cakes, and doll accessories. It’s a medium that keeps me inspired." Rachel’s favorite part of the process is capturing the precise details of real cakes in miniature form. “All my cakes are based on real-life examples,” she explains. "I use dollhouse scale measurements to ensure they’re perfectly accurate." Her work transcends the technical aspects of miniature sculpting, it’s also about storytelling and emotion. "I love to imagine my cakes displayed on someone’s shelf, next to their wedding photos. It’s like a little shrine to the day," she shares. The intricate, lifelike details of her creations evoke nostalgia, bringing joy to collectors around the world. The process of creating her miniatures is a delicate balance of planning and spontaneity. "I start by choosing the size, then I measure the scale. I need to work on my own pieces while doing commissions to keep my inspiration flowing," Rachel says. But working at such a tiny scale comes with its challenges, especially physically. Hours hunched over her work can take a toll on her body, leading to eye strain, back pain, and hand fatigue. "I’ve learned to take breaks every 15 minutes, stretch, and give myself rest," she notes. "I also use CBD balm on my hands at night to help with recovery." Despite the physical toll, Rachel finds immense satisfaction in the response her work elicits. "I’ve had people cry when they received a piece," she recalls, "and one person even drove to show their husband at work. That kind of response is so meaningful to me." Rachel’s work has resonated with collectors, including celebrities, and her art has even found a place in galleries.  "I’m proud to have my work in Parlor Gallery in New Jersey and be part of the MutualArt database, alongside artists like Keith Haring and Da Vinci,"  she says with pride. Rachel’s journey has been one of persistence and growth. "When I look back at my early pieces, they were terrible," she admits. "But through practice, my skills improved, and I’ve learned just how powerful the brain is. Seeing other artists grow and improve brings me to tears. Making art isn’t a waste of time. It’s about sharing your creativity with the world." Looking ahead, Rachel is excited to explore new directions in her art. "I’ve been thinking about creating tiny clothing, miniature rooms, and wedding scenes. My goal is to make a tiny wedding cake for a gallery someday," she shares. "I’ve always wanted to make the Spice Girls bus from Spiceworld—that’s a project I’ve had in my notebook for years." Rachel’s miniature cakes aren’t just charming—they tell stories, and we love that. With every tiny detail, she captures sweet memories, one polymer clay cake at a time.

A quiet force, intuitive, humble, and full of quiet determination, Yukiko Fujita creates from feeling rather than formula, guided by curiosity and emotion. Rooted in Japanese culture, she gently resists conformity with grace and intention. Her warmth is matched by a deep sensitivity and a genuine love for bringing joy to others. When you first encounter the work of Yukiko, you’re likely to pause in disbelief. That’s clay ? The intricate brushstrokes of Van Gogh, the soft ripples of Monet’s lilies, the luminous echoes of Matisse, each recreated not in oil or watercolor, but in polymer clay, and often small enough to wear. It’s this act of transformation, of shrinking grand masterpieces into delicate, tangible artifacts, that defines right now Yukiko's voice as an artist: intimate, surprising, and quietly powerful. Yukiko describes herself first as a wife and mother. But beyond the domestic world lies a vibrant creative spirit, one rooted in a lifelong love of drawing, making, and imagining. “The desire to create and bring something beautiful into the world has always been a constant presence in my life,” she says. That impulse, once nurtured by the awe she felt encountering the works of great artists, now fuels her reinterpretations of them, in a medium she only discovered six years ago. Her connection to polymer clay began with a search for a material that could offer vivid color, hold form, and invite a sculptural dimension beyond the flatness of paint. “It took some time to get the hang of it,” she admits, “but once I understood its charm, I found myself constantly thinking about what to make next.” What followed was a journey of intuition, experimentation, and mastery. Starting with simple accessories, she soon found herself drawn toward more ambitious work: wearable tributes to fine art history, made accessible and reimagined in her hands. Despite the delicacy of her pieces, her artistic process is rarely rigid or pre-planned. “I’m not very good at following strict routines, I tend to act on inspiration and ideas as they come.” This spontaneity, paired with her technical precision, results in work that feels alive, never mass-produced, always singular. “Sometimes things go better than I imagined,” she says, “and other times, something I thought would be simple ends up being surprisingly difficult.” There’s a quiet humility in her reflection, one that echoes the Japanese aesthetic values of restraint, sincerity, and thoughtful imperfection. Cultural influence runs like a subtle thread through Yukiko’s work. Japan, she says, is a place of deep beauty, but also one of social pressure. “There’s a strong tendency to conform, to avoid standing out, to always look for the ‘right answer.’” In that context, she sees art as a form of quiet rebellion, a way to validate the feelings and expressions that don’t fit the mold. “Through my work, I want to continue spreading the message that it’s okay to break away from the norm, and to focus instead on how your own heart feels.” It’s no surprise that this sense of freedom infuses her reinterpretations of painters like Van Gogh and Monet, artists who, in their own time, were radicals of expression. There’s something poetic in her choice to revisit their works through clay: not simply imitating, but transforming, distilling their essence into something tactile and immediate. “People often say, ‘Wait, this is made of clay? I can’t believe it!’ That kind of reaction makes me feel both delighted and proud.” Still, Yukiko resists being boxed in by themes. While fine art reproduction has become a recognizable signature of hers, she insists that surprise is her true north. Her goal isn’t just to copy what’s admired, it’s to create moments of joy, wonder, and connection. “Rather than limiting myself to painting reproductions,” she says, “I want to create works that blend into people’s everyday lives, pieces that bring joy and make people smile.” That joy, for Yukiko, is a guiding principle. Whether she’s sculpting a shimmering Starry Night in miniature or capturing a quiet moment from Japanese daily life, her work always returns to that spark, the delight of making, the warmth of surprise, the quiet power of something small made with deep care. Her pieces are proof that big beauty can come in the smallest forms, and that the quietest voices often speak the loudest through their art.