Needle Felting

I have been needle felting.

I was so sick and I couldn’t do much, not even sit at the wheel or focus on knitting, and, as usual, I feel way too restless and anxious when my hands are not busy…So I figured I could spend a little time making sweet tiny sculptures.

I used to needle felt years ago, but I had to stop quite abruptly because it was a sure trigger for heavy tendonitis.

This time around, I did my best to take long breaks and be mindful of my death grip on the needles, to avoid the worst to happen haha!

And I was transported into this place filled with tenderness and magic.

Creating these little dolls, their soft bodies all comfort and cuteness overload, their little clothes and funny hairdos…it was really good for my soul.

So far, there is the blue baby dragon and a few little Sprites with coats of wings or clothes of forest.
And I must admit I am having quite some fun taking pics of them as well!

And a little mermaid!
Mermaids were my childhood crush. I was totally obsessed.
It makes so much sense that they would show up, right? The picture you see here is of the start.
I use white wool to create the base shape, by poking (poking poking poking) it with special felting needles, until it becomes solid and of the shape I desire.
Then, I use finer needles to coat it with a layer of soft merino wool, giving it the shades of pink and such.
Finally, color! Hair, clothes, and beading.

Even if they are quite small creatures, the process is time consuming, and I must be very mindful to take breaks often - I am just keeping a book nearby and reading a few pages here and there, and so far it worked.

It feels SO good to be able to do this again.
I missed it.
I missed the magic and the tenderness.
I am really really hoping my wrists will hold up so that I can make more of them in the future.

For now, these and a few more will be up for grabs in my shop on May 10th, when I will have the big update - including the jewelry pieces I have been able to work on in between the bouts of flu.

Notre Dame on fire

The night Notre Dame was in flames, I wrote something on my Instagram. I had wanted to articulate more on it the days after, here in the blog, but I got sick with high temps and I became a zombie…

Here is what I wrote on my feed that night:

I was about to go to bed...And I heard about Notre Dame in Paris. Burning.
Tears sprang in my eyes.
Mind you...I know there are people suffering and hurting and that die every day. I know this is just an object.
But it isn't.
It's...Art. 
It's the expression of something "more" that I think we all crave.
.
Seeing this picture here broke my heart.
.
All of that beauty and divine inspiration.
I have been lucky to be admiring this view from below, in what feels like a lifetime ago. Before the panic. Before agoraphobia.
And I think that anything that can inspire such wonder and awe and heart expansion deserves to be mourned.
.
I was speaking about perspective with a friend earlier. Perspective in my own life. Perspective in how I decide to value myself.
.
Seeing this image here...
God, we are so fragile. Our lives are so fragile. Our art is so fragile. Something so majestic and admired can be destroyed in a few hours. Lost. Gone.
Maybe this event touches me so much because I have been admiring this kind of art since when I was a child. These are the metaphorical shoulders that I stand upon. These great works of art that seem to defy the passing of time. .
And so...
I promise.
I am not going to care about all the futile stuff I have been worrying about.
I am not going to spend my hours thinking about algorithms and visibility and brading. 
I am not going to waste another minute, another breath in any of that. 
Because if everything has to turn into dust and smoke - which will eventually happen, for everything and everyone - I want to know I have created with the utmost reverence, inspiration and intention.
I want my sign into this world to be something more than the fleeting "success". The ego boost.
I want to be here perfecting my craft, my art, and my soul, to offer a spark of what art always brought me. I want my work to be the voice for something higher, something that we all recognize as "home".
.
I will take kissing someone's heart, softly touching their soul for a second - I will take it a million times over being "liked".
And I am posting this here as a reminder to my future self, for when I will lose my path again.
.
All love.

I have spent the past couple of months being worried and frustratred, but not really willing to share it openly. Just that day I had finally opened up with a friend.
I have been stressing about social media. About visibility.
The fact that my visibility and likes have gone so down had me in an uncomfortable place.
What am I doing wrong? Why do people not seem to care much about what I do?
What should I do to make them see me?
This kind of reasoning never brings me to good places, and I am totally aware of it.
On the other side, not only I financially rely on socials to sell, but I also have quite the self esteem issues - working on them, getting better, but it’s still a soft spot for me.
I tried to look at all the people promising you to teach you the best way to increase engagement, and I felt miserable.
I don’t feel like “branding”. Studying the appearence of my feed. Being consistent. Planning.
I am not a brand, I am a person, an artist, and I need my online presence to reflect that. I need the spontaneity. The authenticity.
All of this thinking and stressing didn’t help my creative process - OF COURSE - so on top of it all I also felt miserable because I missed my safe space.

When I saw Notre Dame burning…
In a way it opened my eyes.
It connected to something I was talking about with my friend just a few hours before, in some way.

The point is…why do I create?
I do it for the likes, the fleeting sense of “fame”? For feeling worthy and seen?

No.
I do it because I need it. Because nothing else makes me feel as whole.
I do it because I crave to create beauty.

To see Notre Dame burning…well, it showed me in quite a strong way how everything is really fleeting.
Even such a majestic building, awe inspiring, centuries old.
If brought my focus back on the present and on what matters.
In 10 years the likes I get today won’t give me pleasure or meaning.
But maybe in 10 years I will remember the joy someone shared with me about something I made for them, and that will fill my heart.
In 10 years, if my hands will still be busy creating, then I know I will be happy.

How much more can I ask for, really?

(And yes, despite the killer flu, my creativity is back)

Nesting

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I guess I can say I have been nesting…

The change of season is playing havoc on me. I can’t say I don’t feel well, because there is nothing major going on.
I just feel…off, I guess?
I have moments of inspiration, of ideas. Of energy.
Then, I find myself sluggish, unable to focus, and when I manage to bring myself to the bench, I end up making frustrating mistake after frustrating mistake.

I know the only way out is through.
I know it’s only a matter of patience, surrender, and keep going until the tide changes.

Still…did I mention frustrating?

I have found some soft time with these little vessells.
I wet felted the bases on the April New Moon, then I put them all to rest because I was healing from the tendonitis. I am back at them since a few days, shaping them with the felting needle, embroidering beads on them…
The ones in the photo are not finished - they will definitely get a feather in a way or another - but they already have a bit of personality and wanted to be seen, I suppose.

I have quite a few, not as elaborated wool vessels that I made during the years.
I like to have them around the house, to contain little crystals, small treasures I find…a couple hold a part of my feathers collection, others are used to keep my everyday jewelry safe when I take it off.

I like that they make me think of nests.
I like their softness and organic beauty.
This last batch is definitely more ornate, with the glimmering glass beads, and I like to imagine little fairies playing around them, full of glee.

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Speaking of nests and birds…I have been beading.
In between the more time consuming pieces, I made this little blue feather pendant, that I am offering right now as a gift for the giveaway I am holding on Instagram. Don’t you worry though, I have a giveaway planned for the blog and newsletter too, it’s going to be soon!

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And speaking of frustrating things…this is, so far, the only piece I made with the Scarabs i carved recently.

Not for lack of trying.

I was actually working on another piece just this morning, and of course, once again, everything went wrong - the carving, the melting, the soldering - until I decided to call it a day.
Here is to hoping this flunk will pass soon!

Anyway. The first of the Scarab pieces.
I had to start with Quartz, because that’s my favorite stone. The wings here are movable, they are tucked behind the body and can be opened up.
I carved a slightly different texture on each side of the wings, and I scratched-carved the surface below the stone as well…the effect is beautiful when it moves in the light, and I am happy of how it turned out.

I have also been working on some other concepts, and the only thing that is clear for me so far is that all of this work needs to be released togheter as a sort of collection.

The nests that represent both safety and being open, accepting.
The Winged Scarabs for transformation - for spreading your wings and embracing your potential.
A few pieces, not ready to be shown right now, are a conversation about growth - about the tender sprout being brave enough to grow.
There are stories of seeds in my heart - a revisitation of my seed ring from a few years ago.
There are mantras flowing through my lips of change and the wisdom to accept it. Thoughts of rocks and mountains.
All of these ideas and pieces are interwoven, so, even if I don’t do it often, I know I have to go for a collection release this time around.
I still don’t have a date set, but I suppose it will be around the end of April or the first days of May…I will keep you posted.

How is this change of season going for you?

ON CHUBBY SPARROWS

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all

Yesterday I created this little chubby sparrow of hope.

It made me think back to December 4th, 2017.
When I made my first little bird, which also happened to be one of the first pieces of jewelry I made after a little painful hiatus - due to a downfall in my mental health.
To look at the pictures of these little birds brought back memories…

This is the first Soar Bird I made…and here are the words I wrote on that day on my Instagram…

A few days ago I made a pendant for myself - soldering is still difficult business for me, it triggers a lot of anxiety...but some things really, really want to be born, so I have to say yes. Taking it slow, but doing it.
Birds are a lot for me lately - did you notice? Lol!
They are supporting me, keeping me alive.
From the very early morning, when I get up already grasped by anxiety, and I go on the balcony, the sky still dark, breathing the cold air...and waiting for their singing. We are here. It will be ok.
And I breathe.
They symbolize so much to me, a post isn't enough.
Lately, I have been doodling this stylized bird in my journal - I have no idea where it came from, but it's so welcome. 
This pendant I made for myself, I needed it as an amulet and a reminder. 
Of something I see in the birds, that I am working on embodying.
Of those fragile bodies, small tender lives, and the way they seem to trust life so simply and gracefully. The way they take to the sky, riding the currents. Wild and crazy and joyous, past fear and thought.
Daring to SOAR.
It's something I am learning to teach myself, the fact that I can soar. That I have the ability to do it, but also, the most difficult part for me, that I do deserve it. That I am worthy of soaring and experiencing the thrill of life.
To not be afraid of freedom - freedom of being myself.
To trust the wind will support me.
To trust.

This new bird pendant is similar in some ways, and different in others.

It is still a celebration and a prayer of gratitude to the birds.
Because these little feathered things never fail to come to the rescue when I fall down. When the darkness looms on me. When I struggle to function.

"I pray to the birds because they remind me of what I love rather than what I fear. And at the end of my prayers, they teach me how to listen." (Terry Tempest Williams)

This little one carries a word as well, even if now it’s carved with a tiny point on the body surface, along with some small decorative patterns. It was very important to me, someway, that the word is handwritten rather than stamped. A message to a future self, a love note to their new keeper.

It’s carved with a 0.3mm point, which is something really small. That’s my index finger, for size reference.
Often during the carving I thought to myself…why, oh why do I always put myself into such situations? Hah.

But it was so essential to me that the bird was small, small enough to wear it always.
That the lines on it were almost a ghost of a line. Something about feathery light. Something special about the fact that you have to pay attention in order to see them.

Why the chubby sparrows…

Lately I have been able to overcome some of my fears and eat a little more - and some of the foods I was afraid of (pizza!!).
To get past the anxiety and resistance that would catch me, I started to make fun of it, saying "I am going to eat all the things. I'm gonna be all pretty chubby!"

See, my beloved Grandma Luisa used to look at the sparrows (and small animals and kids in general) and say: "Oh, how pretty chubby they are!". She used to say it with such satisfaction. She had survived World War Two and the hunger it came with, so for her and for her generation, to be fat was a good thing.
I wanted to put some of that tenderness, joy, "pretty chubby" in it. The memory of the joyful, sweet, warm person that was my Grandma.

And then drawing happened as well - another old friend coming back for me.
It has been a long time since I sat for hours, drawing and painting just for the sake of it (and not planning a jewelry piece).
It was beautiful.
And all I wanted to do was paint more chubby sparrows with words on them, and that’s exactly what I did.

I have a few birds scheduled to be born soon, some with words asked by their new keepers, a couple with words of my choice and maybe some variations in size and details.
Stay tuned and, as usual, catch me on Instagram for (almost) daily updates!

Lift and Thrust

It has been a very long, very challenging month for me.
Actually, a bit more than a month.
It started, quite ironically, with me having a sort of leap, beating more of my phobias – and from there, down it went.
More in detail…

I had my antidepressants lowered. And, despite my fear, it was good. Lately I was so very tense and aggressive; once the dose went down, I experienced a sort of chill-out. Nice. Apparently my hard work is paying off and I am helping myself be less depressed, right?
Also, I found it easier to overcome some of my OCD aspects; it still took being brave and applying all of the techniques my therapist taught me, but it was like if the voice screaming fear in my head had its volume turned down.
In a week I ate an orange, a croissant and pizza.
All foods that I didn’t eat since years, because of my eating disorder triggered by OCD.
It felt GREAT. The taste!!!!

And then something happened.
If I look closely, it’s something that I already experienced, every time I had an improvement with my mental health.
I started to feel bad.
From constant migraine to really hard panic attacks to severe anxiety to total inability to focus. Which usually leads me to thinking I am having a relapse. Which usually brings me a million steps backwards.

This time, I CHOSE to see it as an healing crisis.
My therapist made it very clear to me how this is normal. How this is like a big explosion before the fire goes out. How all my phobias, all the parts of me that think we need sickness in order to survive are stomping their feet and shouting at me because they are terrified.

A little before this falling down in darkness, I had noticed the Owl showing up for me, in pictures, in conversations…a bit all over the place.
I was talking about it with my friend Catherine, and she told me that Owls are the guardians of grief and wisdom. They hold on to only what nourishes them and release the rest.
This stuck with me. Because yes, that’s what I have been doing. I have started to let go of what doesn’t nourish me.
So I watched a few documentaries about them, to soak them in.
In one of them, they showed the mechanics of flight, and how the Owls flight is special.
They explained the two basic parts of flight:
the LIFT, which is the elevation
and the THRUST, which is the pushing forward.
And these two words, LIFT and THRUST, have been my mantra in this dark night of the soul.
No matter what, I would whisper them in my mind.
Lift yourself up. Use what elevates your mood and soul. No matter how small.
Keep thrusting. Even if the strenght in your thrust is so small and weak, keep doing it. Keep pushing forward.

One of the very big aspects about this healing crisis has been the relationship with social media.
I didn’t plan to take a break from them.
I was forced, though, because I would have a panic attack every time I opened Instagram. And because the headache made my life with screens really unpleasant. And because I couldn’t focus and I was so lost and I could not bear the pressure.
While I adore the people I have met on socials, I don’t like socials anymore.
They are manipulative to an extent that is really dangerous for someone like me – someone who is still learning to stand on her own feet, work out her codependant relationship issues, and build her self esteem.
Way too often, recently, I had found myself feeling like I had to post something; that I should spend hours commenting and scrolling; and maybe even worse, that everyone was doing better than me and I was failing.
Which is exactly the goal of the behaviour manipulation techniques the algorythm is based upon.
They need you online. They need you scrolling. They need you there a lot of time, and they need you to become addicted to the feedback.
Because that’s what the big advertisers want in exchange for their money.

I don’t want to feel like I HAVE to post or I will desappear from your feed.
I don’t want to feel like I HAVE to be available 24/7.

The first few days away from socials felt awkward and full of anxiety.
A lot of things felt useless too.
“I just found this beautiful feather but if I am not posting it online, what is the point?”. This is just one of the kind of thoughts that I caught crossing my mind. Thoughts that stopped me on my tracks. Are you for real? Is your landscape reduced to this?

And then, slowly, the perspective shifted.
I was still worried about the patrons waiting to hear from me – but I was still of no use for anyone so I had to put everything in the back of my mind.
I was still worried about the sales of my work. 
“How many people will really see my post, when I am back? How will I be able to keep working, earning, eating?”

Lift, thrust.

I started to plan the refreshing of this site.
I started to consider writing this blog.
I started to think about the ways I could feel less powerless.
Am I going to leave social media? Nope.
Am I going to carve my own space and have it like I want it? You can bet.

Lift, thrust.

I spun thread on the ancient wheel.
I knitted two shawls for Owl and one for Mourning Dove.

The Mourning Doves have been with me as well, in this period.
While they usually fly around the big fig tree, now they came three steps away from my window. Greeting me as I was there trying to breathe.
Playful, a little goof. They never failed to make me squee and run to the window like a kid.
Humble in colors. Not divas for sure.
So sweet and tender, they reminded me it’s ok to be just me, to not be “special” or “famous” or have the big numbers. It’s ok to do me. It’s right to do me.

Lift, thrust.

Drawing has shily come back for me. In my tiny sketchbook, feeling rusty and awkward and struggling with expectations, yes, but still…pen and brush on paper. Exploring. Home.

Lift, thrust.

Jewelry is usually my safe place to run to when shit hits the fan. It centers me.
This round, not so much. Lack of focus, shaky hands…I made a mess. A lot of half completed works that I managed to melt or crack or whatever. Frustrating.
Scary. “What am I going to do now?”

Lift, thrust.

Naps. Keep eating, force yourself to take care of yourself. Brush your teeth. Brush your hair. Change your clothes. Drink a lot of water.
Spend a morning just napping in the sun with Pooh and don’t feel guilty about it.

Finally, this past week has been about making space.
If I look back, the year and a half of therapy that led me where I am now…it’s been a lot about making inner space. Allowing emotions to show up and stay with them. Releasing some traumas and wounds and patterns that did me no good.
And it was probably time to do the same in the space I live in.
Both the studio, and the home.
It feels like I threw away two painful heavy years of my life. The mess, the things I kept for fear of letting go.
It feels like I gave myself the chance to expand.
In the studio, that is now organized and all set up as I like it to be – as I changed in the three years that I have been working there.
In the home…with yarn and wool well organized, and a tiny space for drawing too.
But it wasn’t easy at all.
I battled all week with spikes of anxiety and a general sense of loss and confusion. One night, I honest to God thought about going back to the dumpster and take my stuff back.
Because to let go doesn’t come easy at all for me. Because to let go of things takes up layers of meaning, and I end up clutching things in an unconscious need to control life.

Lift, thrust.

Finally, today I managed to complete a very meaningful, dear piece without accidents.
It felt so good. It felt so freeing. It felt like my heart expanding.

I think I am finding my way again.

Now, to catch up with all the messages and with everyone who has been waiting for me and wondering why I went off radar so suddenly. Ha.