Uluwatu temple perches high on a needle of rock at the south-west extremity of Bali, jutting out into the vastness of the Indian Ocean with no other lands before it to check the swells that arise far off in Antarctic storms and roll thousands of miles to break in tropic seas at the base of the Uluwatu cliff.
A Hindu saint recognised this spot 700 years ago as a particularly powerful site for a temple, and standing there today one is struck with awe at the beauty and power of creation. The sliver of rock that holds the temple seems so narrow, almost insignificant against the vastness of sea and sky. The entire cliff shudders with the impact of the waves, while monkeys shriek and scamper along walls that drop sheer to the surging foam hundreds of feet below. Across the surface of the sea, after every retreating wave, white foam curls like lace and one can see coral and sometimes sea turtles and dolphins swimming below.
Uluwatu is not far from the village of Kuta where Made grew up. Her family makes the pilgrimage to Uluwatu at each yearly "birthday" of the temple, when tens of thousands of Balinese gather over the three day celebration to give thanks to the sea the God that made it.
The offerings are as beautiful as any other of the crafts of Bali, with fruits and flowers piled high, lovingly decorated with intricate palmleaf cut-outs.
The essence of the fruit and the sweet smell of the flowers are wafted into heaven with the smoke of the incense. And after the gods have been presented with the invisible essence of the offering, children laugh in competition to grab the fruits and sweets before the rest of the offering is packed up to take home for the humans to enjoy.
Maybe Made named her company Uluwatu after the lacy foam that swirls on the surface of the sea below the temple, or maybe she named it in honor of the temple that was so important to her father the fisherman. She doesn't remember anymore, but Pura Uluwatu is still an important place to her and her family.