gathering and feeling

For the last year or so I’ve tried to write blogs in a way that the SEO gremlins say is desirable. I edit and format and reformat until the little wordpress yoast SEO faces turn from red to green with smiles. Do the smiling greens direct more eyes to my words? I doubt it.

So here is where I will reenter the blog-o-sphere in a way that feels more fun. And creative and natural. Un edited, except for spelling error corrections, versions of me. We’ll see how it goes, I will likely continue to jump back and forth across styles, for clarity’s sake.

will return to this in a separate post about fiber & connections to place

Today’s short update:

I’m continuing to refine and edit all pages of this site. There are many things nested in the pages here, but visually tightened. Less is more (maybe?). And I also hope these little eggs are found…

I’m continuing to share learning experiences with children and teens on Outschool and in-person. Time spent practicing Yoga, creating art and following curiosities about the natural world in the company of young people is a gift.

Also a gift sharing creative practices with grown ups.

Recently I started seeing unexpected connections in my artwork. I think I’ve also started making more art to escape feelings of being out of control…as it relates to situations out of my control. Or maybe I’m just becoming more aware? I heard the phrase political trauma today, and I think that’s part of what I’m feeling. I can’t stop looking at the news, but at the same time it feels paralyzing. It’s a privilege to be able to explore and sometimes escape into art.

Here’s some of what I updated here today:

Gathered & Felt
Excited about new information related to this project. Peek at the “research & info” section on this page
HOME
it took me way too long to edit and adjust this home page…but it was a fun puzzle

Ok. I’m losing interest in writing anything more, lol…. If you got this far and go deeper into the folds, please let me know what you think. And how you’re coping with *all the things* Let’s connect show the little SEO gremlins what’s what.

Leave a Reply

Curious Bluebird LLC Awarded New Mexico Creative Industries Business Expansion Grant

New Mexico Creative Industries Business Development and Expansion Grant

This week the New Mexico Economic Development Department announced that ten creative industry businesses will receive a total of $241,000 dollars through the New Mexico Creative Industries Business Development and Expansion Grant. The program supports creative businesses across the state as they scale operations, strengthen infrastructure, and expand market opportunities.

My company, Curious Bluebird LLC, was selected to receive $25,000.

Growing a Creative Business

The grant will support investment in studio infrastructure, locally sourced fiber materials, marketing, and technology to increase fiber art production, expand inventory, and strengthen educational offerings. The project will support workshops and virtual programming, grow earned revenue through art sales and teaching, and enhance long-term business sustainability.

I share this with gratitude and also with perspective, because this moment did not begin with this grant or my early years of freelancing, or even five years ago when I founded Curious Bluebird.

In Praise of Every Job

It began decades ago in places that did not look like solo entrepreneurship. Hospital corridors. Restaurant kitchens. Theater lobbies. Classrooms. Nonprofit offices.

Before I built an art and education company rooted in fiber, ecological practice, and relational teaching, I held many jobs.

Hospital volunteer. Janitor. Dishwasher. Fast food cook. Movie theater concessions. Mall photo booth (Santa and Easter Bunny!) photographer. Video rental clerk. After-school teaching artist. Nonprofit arts administrator. Grant writer. Early childhood educator.

For a long time, I told the story in a linear way. Those were the jobs before my art career began.

But that framing no longer feels honest.

Self-employment is not inherently better than wage or even salaried work. Running a business is not superior to cleaning a floor, washing dishes, changing diapers or staffing a desk. I do not believe in a hierarchy of labor where some forms of work are elevated and others diminished. All labor carries dignity. All labor shapes communities.

What changed for me was not status. It was alignment.

Self-employment allows me to weave together my studio practice, my educational philosophy & training, and my commitment to ecologically-attuned practices. It allows me to pull all of these experiences together to design a business around values that matter to me. That is what feels fulfilling. Not ascent. Not escape. Integration.

When I volunteered at a hospital and worked in a dentist’s office, I learned that visible care rests on invisible systems- coordination, sanitation, timing, and attention. That understanding now informs how I run my company. The public sees workshops and exhibitions. Behind them are spreadsheets, supply orders, registration systems, grant reports, and long hours of planning.

As a janitor, I learned that detail is a form of respect. Clean corners matter. Attention to details matter.

As a dishwasher and fast food cook, I learned rhythm. In a rush, you find flow or you fall behind. Entrepreneurship requires that same steadiness.

Working concessions and photographing families in hectic settings taught me public presence. Every interaction shapes someone’s experience. Reputation is built moment by moment.

At a video rental store, I learned that organization is generosity. Systems help people find what they need. Today that lesson lives in how I structure my offerings so that access feels intuitive rather than overwhelming.

In nonprofit arts administration, I learned how cultural ecosystems function. I saw how funding moves, how programming is built, how fragile and resilient creative economies can be. That experience now shapes how I collaborate, how I write proposals, and how I understand the broader impact of creative work in New Mexico.

As a teaching artist and early childhood educator, I learned layered leadership. I learned how to translate complex ideas, how to adapt when plans shift, and how to hold emotional, physical, and intellectual needs at once. I learned that creativity is relational and emergent. That philosophy anchors both my classroom and my studio.

“My name is Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio. And if I’m here today at Super Bowl 60, it’s because I never, ever stopped believing in myself. You should also believe in yourself. You’re worth more than you think. Believe me”

Recently, I watched Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio (Bad Bunny) say on one of the largest stages in the world that he never stopped believing in himself.

Belief does not always look impressive. Sometimes it looks like finishing a shift and quietly holding a dream. Sometimes it looks like applying for a grant even when nearly one hundred businesses across the state are doing the same.

Belief is not entitlement. It is endurance.

The Business Development and Expansion Grant invests in infrastructure, professional services, equipment, technology upgrades, and long-term growth. For Curious Bluebird, that means strengthening the physical studio space, sourcing more regional wool and fiber, expanding production capacity, improving marketing systems, and enhancing virtual and in-person educational programming.

It means building something sustainable.

Receiving this support does not erase the years of labor that came before. It affirms that the labor mattered.

Nothing was wasted.

The jobs that once felt temporary (and at times, overwhelming) built systems thinking, communication under pressure, emotional intelligence, and respect for every form of work. They built the foundation that made this moment possible.

New Mexico’s creative industries are described as defining our culture and our economic future. I believe that. I also believe that culture is built not only by artists on stages or in galleries, but by cooks, janitors, educators, clerks, administrators, and volunteers. By all of us.

Self-employment, for me, is simply the weaving together of everything I have learned.

I am grateful for this investment. I am grateful for the labor that shaped me. And I remain committed to building a business that honors creativity, community, and the dignity of work in all its forms.

Belief carried me here….and the work continues.

Reflecting on Our Zoom Felting Workshop

Last weekend I had the pleasure of gathering online with a group of fifteen makers from around the US for a Zoom wet felting workshop. Even across screens, there was a shared rhythm that emerged. Wool laid out carefully, hands moving slowly, water and soap doing their quiet work.

What I love most about virtual fiber art workshops is how they invite making into daily life. Participants worked at kitchen tables, studio corners, and sunny windowsills, each space becoming a temporary felt studio. As the fibers began to bind and transform, conversations unfolded naturally about process, patience, and trusting what wants to emerge.

Felting asks us to slow down and stay present. You can feel when the wool is ready, when it needs more time, or when it resists being rushed. Watching vessels take shape in real time reminded me how powerful it can be to make together, even when we are physically apart.

I’m grateful to everyone who joined with curiosity, care, and openness. These shared moments of mindful making continue to affirm why this work matters to me. It is not just about the finished object, but about the experience of being with materials, with ourselves, and with one another.

If you missed this workshop, more opportunities for both online and in-person felting are coming soon!

Create Nuno Felted Wearable Art with me in Española

Weaving Wool, Silk, and Spirit

There is a quiet kind of magic in the meeting of fibers. Wool and silk come together through water, soap, and steady movement to create a fabric that is both strong and fluid, structured and soft. In my upcoming Nuno Felted Wearable Art Workshop on March 1st at the Española Valley Fiber Arts Center, we will explore this process together through hands-on technique, mindful presence, and the shared experience of making wearable art.

What Is Nuno Felting? A Brief History

Nuno felting is a contemporary textile technique developed in the early 1990s by fiber artists such as Polly Stirling. The word nuno comes from the Japanese word for fabric, reflecting the method’s defining feature: combining fine wool fibers with lightweight, open-weave cloth, most often silk.

During the wet felting process, wool fibers migrate through the silk and bind to themselves on the other side, permanently fusing the two materials into a single cloth. The result is a fabric that is lighter and more flexible than traditional felt, with beautiful surface texture and movement. It drapes, stretches, and responds to the body, making it ideal for wearable pieces like cowls, scarves, and wraps.

nuno-felted wearable

Materials as Metaphor: Interconnectedness and Strength in Togetherness

One of the things I love most about nuno felting is how clearly it demonstrates that strength does not always come from thickness or density. It comes from relationship.

Wool is resilient and responsive. Silk is smooth, open, and luminous. On their own, each has beauty and purpose. When they are brought together through friction, warmth, and patience, they transform into something entirely new. The fibers lock into one another and create stability through interdependence.

This process offers a powerful metaphor for community and care. Just as fibers support one another across the weave of the silk, we rely on shared effort, trust, and connection to build strength in our own lives. In making together, we experience how individual contributions become part of a larger, more resilient whole.

Making as a Community of Care

In this workshop, we will approach nuno felting not only as a technical skill but also as a slow, sensory, and collaborative practice. We will begin with a brief grounding exercise to help everyone arrive fully and connect with the materials. From there, I will guide you step by step through layout, wetting, rolling, and shaping as your fabric transforms into a finished wearable piece.

This is a space where:

  • Curiosity is welcomed and perfection is not the goal
  • Each person can work at their own pace
  • Questions, experimentation, and conversation are part of the process

Whether you are new to fiber arts or have prior experience, you will leave with a one of a kind felted cowl or headwarmer and a deeper understanding of how simple materials can come together to create strength, beauty, and meaning.

Join Me on March 1st, 2026

If you are craving hands-on making, connection, and time to slow down with beautiful materials, I would love to have you join us.

Sign up for the March 1st Nuno Felted Cowl Workshop at Española Valley Fiber Arts Center:
👉 https://www.evfac.org/classes/nunofelted-cowl-march-1

Saying Yes to Making (and Sharing) More

In 2025, I said yes to making and sharing fiber art more. That yes looked like processing raw wool, hand-felting, slow hand-stitched embroidery, and a willingness to stay with materials long enough for them to teach me something. I made a lot. I learned a lot. And I let the work be imperfect, exploratory, and alive.

my tea corner

That creative commitment was supported by another, quieter yes: daily routines. Walks with my dog Roux while listening to podcasts and audiobooks. Stretching, somatic movement, and restorative Yoga. Gardening. Weekly talk therapy. Actively learning to recognize and soften my inner critic. Lots of tea. No alcohol…aside from a few celebratory moments. These habits radically improved my mental and physical health, and they are a big part of why I was able to show up consistently for my studio practice at all. Creativity didn’t arrive fully formed; it arrived because I made space for it.

I also recommitted to seeking out and applying for grants and art opportunities, even when the process felt tiring or vulnerable. I leaned into creating a dedicated home studio space and protected my creative time, treating my practice less like something squeezed in around the edges and more like something worthy of structure and care.

Posing with some of the participants from my wet felted vessels workshop at the Española Valley Fiber Arts Center in November 2025

At the same time, my teaching work continued to evolve into what I now understand as my social practice. In 2025 I added felting workshops for adults to my educational offerings, a new Youtube channel and am excited to continue those. The twenty art and Yoga classes I lead each week are not only my primary source of income, but an ongoing source of creative nourishment. Teaching sharpened my listening skills, deepened my relationship to process, and reminded me daily that creativity is relational. Making and teaching now feed each other in ways I could not have planned.

Where the Work Traveled

In 2025, I shared my work in many ways and places:

  • Exhibitions with Electra Gallery (Miracula), Las Damas (Inside the Artists’ Studios), Hecho a Mano (Regalos), Dream Stitch Project (Dream Map), and Surface Design Association (Textiles for the End of the World)
  • Showed and sold work through shops in New Mexico including Eight Million Gods, Soap and Supply, Little Bites Art, Electra Gallery, and Historic Santa Fe Foundation
  • Popped up with Mottainai Santa Fe markets
  • Participated in Española Valley Fiber Arts Center’s Fall Fiber Fiesta, my first juried fiber art and three-day show
  • Accepted to the New Mexico Museum of Art’s Vladem Contemporary Window Box Project for “Gathered & Felt,” a fiber art, found object, and video installation currently in progress and on view winter 2026–27
  • Invited to participate in a fiber art exhibition and lead a felting workshop at El Zaguan on Canyon Road in Santa Fe, in May 2026
  • Led three felting workshops, with six more planned for 2026!
  • Accepted to the Las Damas and OmniHum exhibition Existential Works From New Mexico’s Female Artists, opening January 2026

None of this happened all at once. It came from steady, unglamorous consistency, from applying even when I felt unsure, and from letting small opportunities build into larger ones over time.

Creating plaster / cardboard nichos in our front yard in Northern New Mexico

Holding the Hard Alongside the Art

These meaningful experiences were intertwined with the difficult moments of the year. Grief, fear, and uncertainty over health-related concerns were prevalent in 2025. I am thankful for those who listened, showed kindness, and offered patience. Their support helped me keep moving forward, even when progress felt slow.

Takeaways for Fellow Artists

If there’s anything I learned this year that feels worth sharing, it’s this:

  • Your routines matter as much as your ideas
  • Care for your body and nervous system is not separate from your creative work
  • Teaching, service, or “day jobs” can be generative
  • Applying repeatedly is part of the work, rejections are not a sign you’re doing something wrong
  • Momentum is built through repetition, not always through sudden breakthroughs
  • You are allowed to make work while carrying grief, illness, or uncertainty
Roux relaxing in the tall grass

As we move into a new year, my hope is that this reflection offers permission rather than pressure. Permission to go slower. Permission to be consistent instead of impressive. Permission to make work that grows quietly, supported by care, community, and curiosity.

Here’s to continuing, together.

Cozy Creations at Home

Join me this Winter for a felting workshop on Zoom

There’s something deeply restorative about making with your hands during the quiet, slow months of winter, especially when we can do it together from the comfort of our own homes. This January, I’m inviting you to pause, breathe, and create in a virtual space where warmth, curiosity, and connection meet.

On January 31st, from 1–4pm MST, in partnership with the  Española  Valley Fiber Arts Center (EVFAC), I’ll be leading a live Zoom workshop on creating wet-felted vessels; it’s a perfect opportunity to explore felting and mindful movement as you cocoon yourself in process and play.

What We’ll Be Making

In this class, you’ll learn how to transform simple materials, wool roving, soap, warm water and a few household helpers, into a one-of-a-kind felted vessel. Whether you’re new to fiber art or have dipped your hands in before, this project is designed to be both accessible and inspiring.

Wet felting is an ancient, tactile craft where wool fibers interlock through warmth, moisture, and gentle agitation. It’s meditative, surprisingly playful, and incredibly satisfying to see something emerge from your own hands.

Cozy Comfort Meets Creative Flow

There’s a magic in the combination of warm water on a chilly day, the rhythm of your breath, and the gentle focus that felting invites. That’s why we begin our workshop with a short mindfulness practice to help you arrive fully into your body, your materials, and the present moment.

You’ll be guided step-by-step; from layering fibers to shaping and forming your vessel, while you see and hear the process unfold live. It’s not just about what you make, but how it feels to make it: relaxed, curious, connected.

What to Bring

Merino wool roving is the start of the show for this project. You can find high quality Merino wool roving at Santa Fe Wool or the EVFAC shop. Part of the joy of this workshop is the invitation to work with what you already have at home. You’ll need things like:

  • Bubble wrap or a poly bubble mailer
  • Warm water, towels, soap
  • A rolling tool (like a rolling pin or pool noodle)
  • A bit of tulle netting or similar

These simple items become tools of transformation, turning ordinary moments into creative sparks.

Make & Connect Together

Winter can feel quiet and solitary, but crafting together, even virtually, brings a sense of shared warmth. You’ll be part of a small group (max 15 participants), able to see one another, ask questions, and celebrate each step of your process.

Whether it’s your first time wet-felting or you’re returning to the wool again, this workshop is an invitation to slow down, make joyfully, and connect creatively….all without leaving your cozy corner of the world.

SIGN UP HERE!

Fall Fiber Fiesta

This month I’ll be joining the Española Valley Fiber Arts Center’s Fall Fiber Fiesta, a juried showcase celebrating the vibrant fiber arts community of Northern New Mexico. I’ll be bringing a collection of wet felted wearables and vessels, needle-felted ornaments and objects, and embroidered wearable altars; each made slowly by hand, from natural and reclaimed materials.

Much of my work grows out of a conversation with place. The wool carries the memories the land & animals, the rhythm of water and handwork. My felted forms and stitched icons explore themes of care, transformation, and connection, rooted in eco-feminist and land-based practices that honor both material and spirit.

Felting, for me, is a meditative process. Layers of wool merge through agitation, heat, and intention, forming vessels and garments that hold memory. Stitching adds another rhythm, a way of marking time, offering prayer, or simply staying close to the work of my hands.

If you’re in Northern New Mexico, I’d love to see you at the Fall Fiber Fiesta. Come by, meet the makers, and spend some time surrounded by the textures, colors, and traditions that make this region so unique.

Satya and the Lessons of Art of the Bayou

I recently signed a contract with the New Mexico Museum of Art to officially begin work on my new fiber and found art project Gathered and Felt. I’ll be sharing this project as an installation at the Vladem Contemporary and workshop during winter 2026-27; it will be part of the Valdem Contemporary’s Window Box Project. I’m working on it already and will also be sharing more about the project here soon. In the meantime, the contract itself has me thinking back to the last time I participated in an art project that was connected to a public arts organization.

In 2012, my experimental documentary project, Art of the Bayou, was awarded a National Endowment for the Arts Art Works grant. This award should have marked the start of an era of celebration with this chance to bring an ambitious project to life. Instead, it launched one of the most challenging experiences of my career.

Since the ArtWorks grant is not awarded to individual artists I needed to work with a fiscal sponsor, so I approached the director of an arts organization that I’d worked with for around four years in various administrative capacities. Not only did this organization’s mission align with the mission of my project, but I also thought the director of the sponsoring non-profit organization was trustworthy and I considered them a friend. During the years that I was employed by this organization we shared professional successes and growth, along with personal stories and laughs. During the time of this incident she began sharing personal health concerns that now I suspect may not have been true at all, but ways to pull me in, to soften my boundaries, to emotionally manipulate me. Nevertheless I trusted the reassurances, laughter and promises. I wanted to believe them.

But trust unraveled. When I realized the truth… that this person had been lying to me and mishandling funds for my project’s grant as well as operational funds for the entire organization and project grants for regional grantees. When I finally put the pieces together in 2013 (after months of never receiving payments I was owed from the NEA award and hearing them state over and over again “The check’s in the mail…”) I called the NEA office and reported my suspicions. That act of truth-telling, satya in its rawest form, was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It meant facing the fact that my project could not continue, and that I would be the one left to carry the fallout.

The Weight of Betrayal

The NEA Inspector General later confirmed what I had already suspected: the organization failed to comply with financial standards, misused funds, and neglected reporting requirements (NEA Special Review, 2015). Around the same time, local news documented other artists and programs experiencing similar issues (Houma Times, 2013).

But the facts don’t erase the personal wound. What cut deepest was that someone I trusted, someone who presented themselves as a friend, chose deceit. For the past twelve years they have continued spinning half-truths, convincing others in the small South Louisiana arts community that the collapse was someone else’s fault. I know that isn’t true. I saw their manipulation firsthand.

What’s worse is that parts of the academic world I came from, faculty at my undergraduate school, believe/believed them. They never asked for my story. They sided with her, leaving me silenced and feeling like an outsider. And now, seeing this person affiliated with this small liberal arts college I feel uncomfortable, unsettled, like the wound hasn’t closed.

Seeking Closure

I never got an apology from the person who deceived me. Not for the manipulation, the lies, or the pressure they put on me to take on their role when they already knew the books were broken.

I did, however, receive apologies from others. Board members acknowledged the organizational failures. One even helped me reach a legal settlement for damages, confirming what I already knew in my heart: that I was not liable, that I was not responsible. Still, the absence of apology from the one who caused the harm lingers.

It leaves a residue of anger. Anger that I trusted. Anger that I was manipulated. Anger that I let someone’s words bend my sense of reality for too long.

Satya as Lifeline

Yoga teaches that satya (truth-telling) is essential. But truth is rarely clean or easy. For me, satya meant picking up the phone and reporting the lies. It meant naming what happened to my community, even when it cost me my project. It meant admitting to myself that someone I thought was a friend was, in fact, using me.

Satya didn’t save me from grief or bitterness. But it gave me ground to stand on when the lies threatened to undo me. Satya became the thread I clung to: the reminder that even if others spread falsehoods, I could choose to live aligned with truth.

Why I Am Telling This Now

It has been over a decade, and still there is no closure. The sadness flares into anger; the anger dissolves into disappointment. Some days I feel embarrassed for not speaking my truth sooner. Other days I feel strong for surviving it.

When I signed a contract with the New Mexico Museum of Art for an exhibition I’m in next year it got me thinking back to this last contract/ big project. So, perhaps that’s why I am writing about all of this now, years later. Truth-telling is not just about reporting what happened in the moment, it is about refusing to let lies become the lasting story.

For over a decade, I have watched someone continue to manipulate narratives, to convince others that what happened was someone else’s fault. My silence has been its own burden. Writing this now is an act of satya, to place the truth, my truth, into the open where it belongs.

I cannot rewrite what happened. But I can tell the truth of it: I was manipulated. I was lied to. My ambitious project turned into something painful. And yet, I also found resilience, community, and a clearer understanding of what integrity requires.

That is the scar of Art of the Bayou. And it is also the gift.

Takeaways for Other Artists

For any artist stepping into grant-funded work, especially with a fiscal sponsor, here are lessons my story makes clear:

  • Trust, but verify. Contracts protect you, but sponsors must also be accountable. Ask for documentation regularly, and don’t rely only on verbal assurances.
  • Choose fiscal sponsors carefully. Look for organizations with solid financial systems, transparency, and a track record of compliance. Don’t be afraid to ask hard questions.
  • Know that your reputation is at stake. As the public face of the project, you may carry consequences for failures that are not your own. Prepare for this possibility.
  • Keep your own records. Emails, receipts, reports, etc. This documentation is a form of satya, a paper trail that grounds you in truth.
  • Rely on community. When institutions fail, community often steps up. Seek out allies who will support you, believe you, and help you keep going.

Sacred Rage & the Needle’s Path: Needle Felting for Transformation

Across cultures and centuries, anger has not always been seen as a weakness to repress. In many spiritual traditions, rage is understood as sacred: a fiery force that defends what is life-giving, resists injustice, and calls us back to balance. Today, in a world that often tells us to “calm down” or “be nice,” reclaiming this perspective feels urgent.

Needle felting, with its repetitive, piercing gesture, offers a way to enter this terrain. In my creative and self care practice I’ve come to see the barbed needle as more than a tool; it is a ritual instrument. Each jab carries the possibility of release. Each puncture binds wool together, transforming scattered fibers into something whole. In this process, rage becomes not destructive, but generative.

statue of virgin mary with dagger in heart
sculpture of kali goddess

Sacred Rage in Cultural and Spiritual Traditions

  • Indigenous Worldviews: Many Indigenous traditions honor anger as part of restoring balance when humans harm land, animals, or each other. Ceremonies of release and communal expression allow rage to become medicine.
  • Hindu Goddess Traditions: Deities like Kali and Durga embody divine anger. Their fierce power rises when destruction of evil and protection of creation are needed. Their rage is terrifying, but also protective and purifying.
  • African Diaspora Traditions: In Vodou and related practices, spirits like Ezili Dantor embody protective anger. Rage becomes a maternal force, defending the vulnerable and demanding truth.
  • Feminist Voices: Writers such as Audre Lorde reframed anger as a source of clarity and change, insisting that women’s rage contains wisdom and power, not shame.
  • Hebrew Prophets: Figures like Amos and Jeremiah channeled divine outrage, using fire-charged words to call people back to justice and covenant. Their rage was seen as carrying God’s voice.
  • Christianity: Jesus overturning the moneychangers’ tables in the temple is a canonical example of anger expressed as defense of the sacred. Saints and mystics, too, wrote of holy indignation against hypocrisy and harm.

In all of these examples, rage is not dismissed as dangerous emotion, but held as sacred fire—capable of destroying what harms and fueling the creation of what heals.

Needle Felting as Ritual of Transmutation

Needle felting mirrors this process. The stabbing is fierce, yet the result is tender and resilient. A clump of raw wool, unstructured and loose, slowly transforms into solid form through repeated piercing. Rage works the same way: unacknowledged, it scatters and burns; expressed with intention, it binds and strengthens.

When I felt wool into the shape of a sacred heart, the symbolism deepens. The heart is a vessel of both love and wounding, devotion and suffering. In Catholic iconography, the flaming heart crowned with flames or thorns holds paradox: beauty and pain, rage and compassion. By crafting wool hearts through the rhythm of felting, we honor this paradox in ourselves. The needle becomes both wound and medicine.

Workshop Invitation

If you’re in Northern New Mexico I invite you to join me in an upcoming mindfulness and needle felting workshop (Saturday October 11th at Electra Gallery in Santa Fe) where we will explore sacred rage as a creative, spiritual, and healing force. Through guided mindfulness practices, we will attune to our breath, our bodies, and our emotions. Then, with wool and needle in hand, we will shape sacred hearts—objects that hold our intention to transmute rage into resilience and love.

No experience with felting or meditation is required. This is a space for exploration, for honoring what burns within us, and for discovering how the needle’s piercing can become a prayer of transformation.

Sacred rage is not something to suppress; it is something to work with and honor. Across cultures, people have long known that anger can be holy—a force that protects the sacred and calls us into truth. In needle felting, we find a tactile, embodied way to honor this wisdom. Each stab of the needle becomes a ritual gesture, each felted heart a testimony to the possibility of turning fire into form.

May we all continue to explore what happens when rage is welcomed, held, and transmuted (safely and consciously) into beauty and acts of love.