Lotuswei and the Flower Lounge

Sometimes I get to be apart of something magical. When Robin connected me to Katie Hess of Lotuswei, I knew this was one of those times. She was gathering people together, to share the joy of flowers, meditation and ancient wisdom. The group that would be guiding the experience needed shawls. Meditation shawls, expansive, dyed to the colors they are called to. BIG swaths of raw silk, to wrap around them, to hug their spirits and shoulders. 

It was an honor to be a part of all of this beauty. 

Thank you, dear ones, for letting me join, and for allowing me to share these photos. 

The Flower Lounge

Flower Lounge *Love* 

Flower Lounge *Love* 

As you explore Katie’s site, be sure to listen to her podcast! It’s now quite a favorite of mine  

Flower Lounge *Love* 

Flower Lounge *Love* 

Shawls hanging to dry, waiting to be sent to their new homes

Shawls hanging to dry, waiting to be sent to their new homes

Spaces Between. A Reflection

Where do they come from, your cocoons? What are they?

These are questions I get everytime someone sees my work, sometimes it’s the third, fourth, or tenth time they’ve seen the cocoons.  They’re puzzles to their viewers, and puzzles to their maker as well. The night at Goodyear Arts, I was happy to attempt to answer these questions over and over again. I got a closer to the truth of them, and for that, I'm grateful all over again. (My favorite part was telling people they could touch the cocoons, gently. It was the BEST.)

I struggled to tell people what they are, because I don’t understand fully where they come from.  I found myself (a hand talker) reaching into my ribcage to hand them the answer instead. I explained that instead of giving each a public name, they were meant to be named by each viewer. To hold the space they need most in their heart. To go home with whomever connects the deepest. 

As to what the cocoons from... They come from within, from the place of truth and magic and ancient knowing. I am the vessel, not the sculpture.  They tell me what colors they need. I ask them more questions than I receive answers.  They let me know when they’re finished. Sometimes they need to rest. Or maybe I need the rest, so I can listen and hear their whispers more clearly. Other times  they get loud, demanding attention. Picking at my brain when I’m not working on it, like an itchy tag on a dress. They take up space, holding intentions and reminders in each nook and cranny.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I start stitching. Letting my mind settle, like leaves after a breeze. Letting my heart ease, and open to the task at hand. My hands wander, working with my eyes in search of balance between wool, beads and stitches.

The physical weight of embellished wool felt calls me forward. It’s just as much about the needle pushing through the fibers as it is the finished piece.

They’re meant to change the room they’re in.  Holding their own space for the viewer, changing how we react to the familiar room.  Hanging things from ceilings has always fascinated me, how it can make a large room smaller, or a tiny space more welcoming. There’s something about it.

Fiber arts are my heart’s work in this lifetime. The medium is transformational and broad, challenging my boundaries and comfort zones. I adore that something so soft and gentle can push me so hard to find my Truths. 

Spaces Between

I’m still tumbling this experience in my head, up and down, like a coin flipped through fingers. Shaking it out like runes to be read. In a nutshell, it was amazing and brilliant to have my work seen by so many people. Being able to see peoples’ reactions to my work is such a gift, most of my patrons are long distance, and I’m grateful for each and every one of them. But to witness people Seeing my work for the first time, words escape me, for now.

Knowing that people believed in me and my art enough to let me show it to the world (thank you, a million, a billion times Goodyear Arts!). My heart is full of gratitude to everyone who has played a part in this show, from the first person who ever bought a cocoon, to my family and friends for their support, and every single soul that walked through the installation. Thank you. Thank you.

And now, I am in the between space. Holding onto my work, turning it here and there to see where we will go next. The cocoons will slowly make their way into the shop in the coming weeks or so. It's time to finally remove them from the space this coming weekend. 

Into the Wild

This one is so sweet to see, I made it a few years ago. When I was deep in Mandalas, in my own practice, and leading Mandala making workshops.  It may be time to dive back in to the circles.

Blue Mandala Clutch with grey suede. 

Thank you, Tami, for the images! 

Into the Wild

Oh, sweet, sweet Lacuna. You are so happy where you are, aren't you? I can tell. 

photo by Janet B.

photo by Janet B.

Into the Wild is a series of posts that are provided by you, my sweet patrons. I love seeing and sharing where my pieces end up.  If you'd like to send me an image or two to share, pop it on over to crbabbie (at) gmail (dot) com. 


As always, thank you. 

Into the Wild

Remember the Shield? Here she is at home. 

photos kindly offered by Janet B. 

thank you, my dear!