About Miriam Ortwed

Hi, I’m Miriam — designer, artist, and lover of soft textures and quiet ideas.
I live and work in Copenhagen, where I spend my days drawing patterns, testing papers, photographing tiny scenes, and chasing that perfect moment when color, form, and feeling click into place.

I’ve always been drawn to the in-between — the space where structure meets softness, where design becomes a little bit story, a little bit touch, a little bit calm.
My work lives somewhere between surface design, illustration, and play — exploring how patterns and materials can shape the way we feel in a space.

I’m the founder of Softform Studio (currently under construction), a creative brand focused on pattern, mindfulness, and slow design — from wallpaper and fabric to embroidery, stationery, and miniature paper worlds.
It’s my way of making calm tangible — through pattern, texture, and moments of quiet making.

Here on ortwed.com, you’ll find my broader creative projects: design experiments, collaboration work, and glimpses into the process that connects them all.
It’s a mix of the serious and the silly, the precise and the playful — a reflection of how I like to work: with curiosity, care, and the occasional cup of oat milk cappuccino gone cold.

Thanks for being here — I hope what you find feels soft, a little surprising, and maybe even a bit like coming home.

  • Pragmatic, optimistic and all-round creative.

    An ambivert (both extrovert and introvert), which means I get energy from being around people, but also need time to recharge on my own.

  • I’m funny, helpful and will support them in whatever they want to do or pursue.

    They’ll also tell you that I can do anything and everything, like a Pippi Longstocking type:

    “I have never tried that before, so I think I should definitely be able to do that.”

    -Astrid Lindgren

    • I love K-drama and South Korean culture. I went on a few school trips as a design teacher to Seoul and I’ve been hooked ever since.

    • I spend 5 minutes every day on Duolingo learning languages. These days it either Korean or Polish.

    • When I was younger I took fencing classes and had a fling with capoeira. These days it’s the gym, reformer pilates and yoga.

    • I cut my own hair…just because I can.

    • I have a bachelor in nursing, but I didn’t end up using my nursing degree. It did help me mature and realize what a lot of my strengths and vulnerabilities are. And it turned out to be my ticket straight into design school.

The journey so far…

Beginnings

I’ve been making things for as long as I can remember — paper dolls, tiny Barbie furniture, flower wreaths, and, at one point, vampire mermaids (my first “commission” at age ten — wildly popular for about two days).

My grandparents were my biggest champions. My grandmother taught me to sew, knit, and crochet; my grandfather mounted my salt dough figures on little wooden plaques. They showed me that creativity wasn’t just art — it was care, curiosity, and play.

Detours and Discoveries

At nineteen, I applied to design school and was promptly rejected — I had talent but no direction. I moved to Munich, started nursing school, and spent years traveling back and forth between Denmark and Germany.

Those years taught me observation, empathy, and discipline — all things design school eventually loved about me. I reapplied, got in, and realized that creativity had been waiting patiently under the surface all along.

Soap Bubbles and Soft Chairs

To support myself through my studies, I worked at a science museum, where I somehow became a soap bubble queen — and later, an exhibition designer.

Meanwhile, design school let me explore freely: I knitted a chair with giant needles, made soft wooden pillows, and designed a forest-themed cupcake café. I discovered that my strength wasn’t in picking one discipline — it was in connecting them all.

That messy mix of curiosity, play, and material exploration became the foundation of how I think and work today.

From Making to Meaning

I’ve worn many hats since — designer, maker, teacher — each adding another layer to how I understand creativity. For the past decade, I’ve taught design and helped others rediscover their creative spark through tactile making and play.

Now, my focus has found its natural home in surface pattern design — a place where everything I love meets: color, texture, form, and story.
It’s where all the threads — from salt dough to soft forms — finally weave together.

Still learning, still making, still a little out of the box — and I wouldn’t have it any other way.