When I was young my mom made me a coat from wool fleece, thick and warm. She was a weaver but for this coat she used the same technique as she used for making wooly carpets. For the inside lining she used a black cotton with little red flowers.
My father warned my mom not to dress me differently than the other kids at school, so I did not wear it for long, just a short while. Grin, but alas the deed was done, I loved and love the raw feel of wool which suits my being so well.
I’ve always known the coat, in a small way, co-created me, this me, a human with all those different parts of me and maker of warm silent hiding spaces, the me with flowers on the inside.
For this shot for the Global burrow project, we made a couple of years ago, a friend took me to an ancient wood in the US where we found a fallen giant, feeder of fungi and little creatures and a heart filling hiding place for bigger creatures.
The Shearer send a message the other day, that he had good wool for me, perfect for a project I am working on. Wool from people who keep sheep as pets. ‘Just go to the barn and you will know immediately which bag it is.’ =)
and now for the first time in a fair bit my hands, body and space smell as if a herd of sheep took over ;) Soft and gorgeous and alive are these fleeces with stories of the field and area they live in.
It was of a dream you know this project, where you do things, make good things and no one gets hurt. Where you become a medicine woman.. that kind of dream.
It is late but still the 16th of October. The night of the full moon and the promised blanket, from last post, is done and should arrive somewhere on this globe by next month. Other blankets, thick hairy and full of air to cover beds, givers of healing dreams to deep sleepers, are by now stacked neatly on shelves in a gorgeous store and new ones, those to hold and cover you or me, felted carefully and treated with herbal love will be ready sometime this month.
No words seem to fit properly these days as I learned so much I did not yet process and there is so much more I know I need or would like to know and understand. About how memory is stored in our heart space, about freedom, about how certain herbs adapt themselves to your needs, about how hollow and disconnected we grown ups can be from ourselves and that there are ways of caring to connect you or me to our inner core again and I realise the importance of it. I heard the word marma in a class and read the word mudra and the name Octillo for the first time in my life and I once more learned that life is never confined.
Perhaps I will just shout and whisper at the same time or mumble or howl, ‘take good care of yourself, you are precious.’
‘Are you seriously not staying here or could you at least look for another studio?’ someone asked when he came by and saw the amount of materials I still need to sort through. I tried explain its not the time yet for a new space bút time to leave and that looking at the huge body of my work made me wonder about my sanity (..and strength) too. I explained to him that my work just does not fold into neat little square boxes. =)
While not answering yet to strange and complicated questions about the next steps I keep getting, I enjoy this moving thing and this having to sort through things and noticing your heart jumping up, or hurting a little, when you see old pieces and deciding to move or loose them.
Detail of The Siblings
Clad in heavy warm thick felt she is what she is.
One thing about working, and especially working on these series, is that you are allowed to play. Often.
…it’s still work though.
But is perfect for if you suddenly feel the need to build a castle.. or a dragon..or play hide and seek, or make a gondola, just because you can, and float underneath a balloon over far away flowing land, over mountains and rivers and let the others know you are coming.
So I am still thinking and working on thoughts about who we are as people and why and I (very annoying..) constantly want to ask people, ‘Where are you?’ ‘Are you happy?’ ‘What are you up to?’ ‘How do you feel? ‘How does that look like?’ ‘Need a boost or anything?’ =)
Today we shot The dive for the (series.)
This fleece came from a milksheep closeby, an animal fed on grass often swept by sea winds. A soft fleece shorn by a young kind shearer.
The shot is made when the sun was going down, the colour of the room is typical for this time of day and year on the Northern hemisphere. The whole feel of the space, the light, the colour and the felt makes tha heart rate go down, makes tha breathe a bit deeper.
Vital parts of working with raw wool, to me, is how the material looks, feels, smells, its wildness and freedom, the depth of colours in the un-dyed material..
Did you know that every fleece, every fleece from a different herd, smells differently? Grinning..Some of my students will gladly inform you that I asked them to lick their fingers after touching raw wool to prove that every fleece also tastes differently.
(Raw wool is wool in its natural condition; not refined. Because of this particular felting process the wool is cleaned from its grease, but will still look as only sheared.)
(Gondola 90x 160. 2014)
Telling stories, speaking me mind, shutting up, climbing up and down ladders, undressing ideas.