From Grief to Growth:
An Interview with the Founder of Moodscape
Moodscape was born from loss, healing, and a desire to create art that uplifts. In this personal founder interview, I share the journey behind the brand and the emotions that shaped it.
Moodscape didn’t begin as a traditional business plan. When you look back now, what was the very first moment you realized your grief was slowly turning into this brand?
Moodscape didn’t start as a business. It started as a lifeline.
When I lost my mother, Vijaya Kumari, to cancer, the world became very quiet. Not dramatic or loud, just hollow in a way I didn’t yet have language for. I couldn’t talk about it. Writing felt impossible. But I could design.
One evening, I created a piece that captured something I was feeling. Not sadness exactly, but that strange space between grief, love, and gratitude. When I looked at it, I felt slightly lighter. And the thought crossed my mind: if this can help me breathe a little easier, maybe it could do that for someone else too.
That was the shift. The moment the art stopped being only for me and began to feel like the beginning of a shared space, where emotions didn’t need fixing, only honoring.
How do your family and cultural roots shape Moodscape today?
I grew up between places. Between India and the U.S., between tradition and reinvention, between constant connection and physical distance.
When my mother was alive, we spoke every day. Those calls were filled with small, ordinary details: what she cooked, the vegetable vendor outside her window, the milkman arriving at the same time each morning. After she passed, those rhythms didn’t disappear. They stayed with me.
Moodscape carries that inheritance. The colors, the warmth, the calm familiarity of spaces that feel lived-in rather than styled. It’s rooted in memory, in routine, in the quiet beauty of everyday life that often goes unnoticed until it’s gone.
Where do you find inspiration when creating a new mood or collection?
Inspiration usually arrives unannounced.
I travel often, and one day, while scrolling through the photos on my phone; maybe as part of the grieving process; I noticed how many images I’d collected from museums, graffiti walls across the world, and joyful moments with my mom. Those snapshots became quiet reminders of what moves me. Many designs come from those moments. Some were created weeks after my mother passed, others months later, when the grief had softened into something quieter. Moodscape isn’t about abstract ideas like palettes or textures; it’s about translating lived memories into something visual, so they can be felt again in a different way.
Sometimes it’s a very specific memory: the color of the sky during my thesis defense, just as the sun was setting. Other times it’s a place, like sitting on my grandmother’s verandah in the late afternoon, listening to the world slow down.
How do you think about SEO and discoverability for Moodscape?
I work in tech, I understand basics and Honestly? I didn’t start with SEO. I started with feeling.
But somewhere between three hours of researching “mood-based home decor” and rearranging words that didn’t quite fit, I realized something: I wasn’t avoiding grief, I was channeling it.
SEO became less about strategy and more about clarity. About naming emotions people are already searching for, even if they don’t yet know how to describe them. If Moodscape shows up for someone at the right moment, that feels more meaningful than any ranking ever could.
What mood best describes where you are in life right now?
Proud. But not the loud, celebratory kind.
It’s the quiet kind of pride that comes from surviving something you never planned for. From building gently instead of rushing. From choosing meaning over momentum.
There’s calm here too, but pride feels closer to the truth. The kind that doesn’t need an audience.
What do you hope Moodscape becomes in the future?
I want Moodscape to feel less like a store and more like a pause.
A place people return to when they need grounding. When they’re navigating change, loss, growth, or simply a season that feels undefined. I hope it grows thoughtfully, without losing its softness.
If Moodscape can continue to help people feel seen in quiet moments, then it’s doing exactly what it was meant to do.
What has building Moodscape taught you about grief that you didn’t understand at the beginning?
I thought healing meant getting past it. When things felt heavy, I would remind myself that I had lost my father when I was young, and that I had survived that kind of loss before. But when I lost my mother, there was no comparison. It affected me in a deeper, more overwhelming way than anything I had experienced.
What I learned instead is that grief stays, but it changes. Some days it’s heavy. Other days it’s quiet. Creating Moodscape helped me understand that I don’t need to resolve grief to live with it. I just need to make space for it.
If someone is discovering Moodscape during a difficult season in their life, what do you hope they feel?
I hope they feel understood.
Not rushed toward positivity. Not told to feel better. Just seen where they are. If Moodscape gives them a small sense of comfort or calm, even briefly, that matters.
What does healing look like for you right now?
Healing looks like balance.
It’s continuing to build while allowing myself to slow down. Carrying my mother’s memory without letting loss define everything. Letting moments of joy exist alongside grief. That’s what feels honest to me right now.

