Spirit of Wool

Been working on my trees. Love love love creating these and particularly love to pair them with antique oil can bases, old door k***s, driftwood or whatever inspires me. These two have bases of oil can and a pig skin scraper( sorry piggies). The autumn coloured tree is a first for me and I like how it turned out. What about you? Thanks to for the beautiful locks & can’t wait for my next batch. #

The littles… I like creating the littles ( acorns/hearts/pumpkins/trees etc) when I’m chillin with Netflix. They’ll all find their place eventually and I won’t be last minute making them. It’s Preparedness for future projects & just plain fun too. What would you create with these acorns??? These acorn tops were lovingly & specifically collected for me by two very special people. Thanks and Jacob. 🤗 #

It’s been a slow start back into needlefelting. I have lots of things I want to try with wool fibre and loads of learning to do. I got through my humdrum slump by playing with dried flowers and mason jar lids … with modge podge , maple leaves & glass bottles… and a plan for what I would focus on with wool came into being. I’m going to do some projects purely for me & my learning. I’m only going to create a few types of items that I hope will appeal to others. And I’m going to continue to support my friend’s dog rescue through my sales & my Xmas market sales. Here’s to a creative 2024- one that calms my soul and enables me to help dogs.
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I’m just a girl who loves everything Christmas. Just wanting to thank everyone who has supported my art this past year. You are all much appreciated. Thank you for my best year. Hope to see you in 2024. Wishing you all a merry christmas and a very joyful 2024.
# wool .

New product: mushroom and felted pine tree garlands. Mushrooms made from clementines and twigs …wool felted pine trees. Just decided to do some mixed mediums for fun. These are available . Dm.

Getting show ready is exhausting and inspiring at the same time. Last few pieces being created; some being finished off; tagging to be done & my least fav thing…pricing. ( I’m hearing in my head me being asked a price & then no response or a walk away. I breathe in & stand in tall in my effort & creativity. I’d say I’m priced fairly. Plus I donate to dog rescues from my sales. ) This is a focused time that I’m balancing with maintaining my joy for my art form. Not always easy to do. So I only do 3 shows /year. No Etsy etc. only word of mouth or DM if you see something you like. I do this for myself. The sharing via sales with others is so I can donate $ to dog rescues.

UPLift Moment: I cherish and love every word of John Forti’s Old Ways as well as the

OLD WAYS *(from my book) "Suddenly all my ancestors are behind me. Be still, they say. Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands. —Linda Hogan

"Linda Hogan’s old ways are those of her Chickasaw ancestors. Mine come from the landscapes of Italy, Ireland, and New England. They were emblazoned in our gardens, on our tables, and in our treatment of the land that supported us. They were passed down in recipes and prescriptions. In the way stones were fit together. In the way a dovetail joint expanded and contracted through hundreds of seasons. Old ways are how my hands learned to follow a pattern, save a seed, make a cordial, and trace the lineage that makes up every fiber of my being.
In centuries past, people’s lives were harder in many ways. But most were also richer in meaningful experiences gained by living lives connected to the seasons and the elements. Lives more vivid for the visceral interaction of handcraft and better connected for the legacy of handed-down skills. Seeing these old ways as historical precedent and blending them with modern inquiry can help us to retrace familiar steps with new eyes. Look closely and analyze the memory embedded in fragments. We can find inspiration from the assured hands of a knitter, a calligrapher, a mason who came before us. Methods as simple as hanging out laundry or as complex as dyeing fabric with botanicals.

Although they can often be improved upon, old ways are guideposts that have helped us survive childbirth, illness, natural disasters, wars, and season after season of ordinary days. Why did particular herbs and spices become traditional medicines? Which heirloom seeds deliver the most flavorful, prolific, or disease-resistant produce? Old ways can shed some light, offering clues, like puzzle pieces, when we’re fitting stones back into an old farm wall or letting our hand be guided by earlier cuts when we prune an old orchard tree. Old ways are the familiar artifacts that help us to explore an unwritten code, like talismans passed down to enhance and protect us. Ways so deeply embedded that they guide hand and heart to forge onward with minimal effort. Ways so old that only the wind and the trees can pronounce them.

No matter how dark the days, old ways can help us succeed and regenerate, like a woodland begins anew after a devastating fire. Old ways hold memories evolved through countless seasons of ice ages, hunting and gathering, agriculture and industrialization, feast and famine. As” For a multitude of reasons that vary all around the world, we have found ourselves at a necessary turning point in our relationship with the earth and each other. The gardeners’ spirit knows why we have to take care of place. We know it from our very roots, and they are our tonic, our life blood—the water we drink, the soil we till, the heirlooms we grow, and the air we breathe.
Old ways can speak to us. They can lend us confidence and skills to do things like forage, but like any other language, their translation can make a world of difference. Old ways are nuanced, and they call upon us to be attentive to the details. Place, population, season—and how our decisions play out in the larger communities around us. At its core, respect is inherent in the old ways. If we poison the earth, if we do not apply lessons learned, we can poison ourselves; but if we pay heed, we can know no greater nourishment than the wild greens gifted by nature and birthright—nurturing medicine, like the lingering savor of a grandmother’s chicken soup.

In an age when our waters and landfills are choked with plastic, old ways remind us how to make a wooden cutting board, and why it is best to rub it with garlic or lemon when we are done. In a world with tidbits of food-like substances sealed in plastic to preserve shelf life, learning to pickle, ferment, and preserve foods that actually nourish our bodies becomes an act of resistance. At a time when chemical fertilizers are sterilizing the land and toxifying our lives, old ways remind us to compost, companion plant, and cultivate perennials that draw up nutrients from deep below the earth’s surface. They remind us how to eat a dandelion instead of pouring chemicals onto our lawn. In a world where we have sped up climate change and disease for the bottom line and profit margin, the answers we need (like dandelion) are blowing on the wind.

Old ways help us to roll up our sleeves and get things done. They help us to draw upon all the learning in the universe and the fifteen billion years of compost, in order to advance civilization and soil. It is our great fortune as gardeners and seed savers that we know how to roll up our sleeves and get things done. They help us to draw upon all the learning in the universe and the fifteen billion years of compost, in order to advance civilization and soil. It is our great fortune as gardeners and seed savers that we know how to get our hands dirty, how to take spent soil and rebuild systems.
In The Same Ax, Twice: Restoration and Renewal in a Throwaway Age, Howard Mansfield concludes that whether it’s rebuilding an old farm tractor engine or reviving the village model of community organization, it must contain an element of renewal—like fashioning a new handle for an ax broken so many times that there is little left of the original; yet its preservation communicates the spirit as well as the form of the original.

When I lived in Japan, I visited the Ise Jingu, a Shinto shrine some two thousand years old. But every twenty years, for at least the last thirteen hundred years, the most outdated building there is torn down and exactingly replicated. The process of regularly rebuilding the wooden structures, which would otherwise have been lost to the elements, helped preserve the original architecture; but even more importantly, it keeps the artisanal skills and processes (from harvesting and aging timber to timber framing and thatching structures) alive—often with the same lineage of artisans that built the shrine two millennia ago. In contrast, on recent visits to Boston, I have watched an almost entirely new city being built on the old waterfront piers. Dizzying skyscrapers built at sea level on centuries-old landfill. I am keenly aware that craftsmanship did little to inform these plans. It would seem that nobody was tasked with creating buildings and landscapes that could be seen as living, breathing organisms, or that could endure decades of climate change. Clearly, in this age of excess, the old adage “a rising tide lifts all boats” no longer pertains to all; and these sinking ships may well be left bankrupt for the rest of us to contend with, like so many other outmoded dams and toxic waste sites from coast to coast.

We are not living in the most detail-oriented of times. Science can surely help us to advance, but first we need to know the right questions to ask. And all too often, the patterns most deeply ingrained in our history evade us. Old ways don’t require that we remain stuck in the past. Many are best abandoned and good riddance, but most simply remind us of patterns that have kept us resilient, helping us to survive a history full of change. Historian Howard Zinn urges us to remain hopeful, to remember the times and places where people have “behaved magnificently”; doing so “gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction.”

The elders I’ve known who found ways to stay positive through changing times are role models to me. It’s not that their lives were easy, but they never forgot all the ways that they were fortunate, and they made sure to acknowledge them as fervently as they worked for justice, equity, and beauty in the world. There is nothing political about taking care of the earth. Every person knows it in their conscience; and old ways can help to guide us as we cultivate food, flowers, forests, and ecosystems, starting with the plot of land beneath our feet. They are living histories, and they are marvelous little victories. Open up the recipe box, the jar of seeds, and share the craft. Our work is to radiate out as far as we can, like ancient seeds carried on the wind"

Artist: Jill Pritchett - "Memories of Granny's Hands"

https://www.amazon.com/Heirloom-Gardener-Traditional-Plants-Skills/dp/1604699930

UPLift Moment: I cherish and love every word of John Forti’s Old Ways as well as the words of Linda Hogan. I have John’s book …it is beautifully written, insightful and educational. Highly recommend.

OLD WAYS *(from my book) "Suddenly all my ancestors are behind me. Be still, they say. Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands. —Linda Hogan

"Linda Hogan’s old ways are those of her Chickasaw ancestors. Mine come from the landscapes of Italy, Ireland, and New England. They were emblazoned in our gardens, on our tables, and in our treatment of the land that supported us. They were passed down in recipes and prescriptions. In the way stones were fit together. In the way a dovetail joint expanded and contracted through hundreds of seasons. Old ways are how my hands learned to follow a pattern, save a seed, make a cordial, and trace the lineage that makes up every fiber of my being.
In centuries past, people’s lives were harder in many ways. But most were also richer in meaningful experiences gained by living lives connected to the seasons and the elements. Lives more vivid for the visceral interaction of handcraft and better connected for the legacy of handed-down skills. Seeing these old ways as historical precedent and blending them with modern inquiry can help us to retrace familiar steps with new eyes. Look closely and analyze the memory embedded in fragments. We can find inspiration from the assured hands of a knitter, a calligrapher, a mason who came before us. Methods as simple as hanging out laundry or as complex as dyeing fabric with botanicals.

Although they can often be improved upon, old ways are guideposts that have helped us survive childbirth, illness, natural disasters, wars, and season after season of ordinary days. Why did particular herbs and spices become traditional medicines? Which heirloom seeds deliver the most flavorful, prolific, or disease-resistant produce? Old ways can shed some light, offering clues, like puzzle pieces, when we’re fitting stones back into an old farm wall or letting our hand be guided by earlier cuts when we prune an old orchard tree. Old ways are the familiar artifacts that help us to explore an unwritten code, like talismans passed down to enhance and protect us. Ways so deeply embedded that they guide hand and heart to forge onward with minimal effort. Ways so old that only the wind and the trees can pronounce them.

No matter how dark the days, old ways can help us succeed and regenerate, like a woodland begins anew after a devastating fire. Old ways hold memories evolved through countless seasons of ice ages, hunting and gathering, agriculture and industrialization, feast and famine. As” For a multitude of reasons that vary all around the world, we have found ourselves at a necessary turning point in our relationship with the earth and each other. The gardeners’ spirit knows why we have to take care of place. We know it from our very roots, and they are our tonic, our life blood—the water we drink, the soil we till, the heirlooms we grow, and the air we breathe.
Old ways can speak to us. They can lend us confidence and skills to do things like forage, but like any other language, their translation can make a world of difference. Old ways are nuanced, and they call upon us to be attentive to the details. Place, population, season—and how our decisions play out in the larger communities around us. At its core, respect is inherent in the old ways. If we poison the earth, if we do not apply lessons learned, we can poison ourselves; but if we pay heed, we can know no greater nourishment than the wild greens gifted by nature and birthright—nurturing medicine, like the lingering savor of a grandmother’s chicken soup.

In an age when our waters and landfills are choked with plastic, old ways remind us how to make a wooden cutting board, and why it is best to rub it with garlic or lemon when we are done. In a world with tidbits of food-like substances sealed in plastic to preserve shelf life, learning to pickle, ferment, and preserve foods that actually nourish our bodies becomes an act of resistance. At a time when chemical fertilizers are sterilizing the land and toxifying our lives, old ways remind us to compost, companion plant, and cultivate perennials that draw up nutrients from deep below the earth’s surface. They remind us how to eat a dandelion instead of pouring chemicals onto our lawn. In a world where we have sped up climate change and disease for the bottom line and profit margin, the answers we need (like dandelion) are blowing on the wind.

Old ways help us to roll up our sleeves and get things done. They help us to draw upon all the learning in the universe and the fifteen billion years of compost, in order to advance civilization and soil. It is our great fortune as gardeners and seed savers that we know how to roll up our sleeves and get things done. They help us to draw upon all the learning in the universe and the fifteen billion years of compost, in order to advance civilization and soil. It is our great fortune as gardeners and seed savers that we know how to get our hands dirty, how to take spent soil and rebuild systems.
In The Same Ax, Twice: Restoration and Renewal in a Throwaway Age, Howard Mansfield concludes that whether it’s rebuilding an old farm tractor engine or reviving the village model of community organization, it must contain an element of renewal—like fashioning a new handle for an ax broken so many times that there is little left of the original; yet its preservation communicates the spirit as well as the form of the original.

When I lived in Japan, I visited the Ise Jingu, a Shinto shrine some two thousand years old. But every twenty years, for at least the last thirteen hundred years, the most outdated building there is torn down and exactingly replicated. The process of regularly rebuilding the wooden structures, which would otherwise have been lost to the elements, helped preserve the original architecture; but even more importantly, it keeps the artisanal skills and processes (from harvesting and aging timber to timber framing and thatching structures) alive—often with the same lineage of artisans that built the shrine two millennia ago. In contrast, on recent visits to Boston, I have watched an almost entirely new city being built on the old waterfront piers. Dizzying skyscrapers built at sea level on centuries-old landfill. I am keenly aware that craftsmanship did little to inform these plans. It would seem that nobody was tasked with creating buildings and landscapes that could be seen as living, breathing organisms, or that could endure decades of climate change. Clearly, in this age of excess, the old adage “a rising tide lifts all boats” no longer pertains to all; and these sinking ships may well be left bankrupt for the rest of us to contend with, like so many other outmoded dams and toxic waste sites from coast to coast.

We are not living in the most detail-oriented of times. Science can surely help us to advance, but first we need to know the right questions to ask. And all too often, the patterns most deeply ingrained in our history evade us. Old ways don’t require that we remain stuck in the past. Many are best abandoned and good riddance, but most simply remind us of patterns that have kept us resilient, helping us to survive a history full of change. Historian Howard Zinn urges us to remain hopeful, to remember the times and places where people have “behaved magnificently”; doing so “gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction.”

The elders I’ve known who found ways to stay positive through changing times are role models to me. It’s not that their lives were easy, but they never forgot all the ways that they were fortunate, and they made sure to acknowledge them as fervently as they worked for justice, equity, and beauty in the world. There is nothing political about taking care of the earth. Every person knows it in their conscience; and old ways can help to guide us as we cultivate food, flowers, forests, and ecosystems, starting with the plot of land beneath our feet. They are living histories, and they are marvelous little victories. Open up the recipe box, the jar of seeds, and share the craft. Our work is to radiate out as far as we can, like ancient seeds carried on the wind"

Artist: Jill Pritchett - "Memories of Granny's Hands"

https://www.amazon.com/Heirloom-Gardener-Traditional-Plants-Skills/dp/1604699930

Away for our anniversary …a few days up north … a last minute booking to to do an animal experience with llamas, sheep, chickens( all female) and a mule and alpacas(all male). What a wonderful private visit we had!! Fed & connected with all animals that were of their own accord, willing. Mary & Keith we’re kind, warm and very informative. You could feel the connection between the animals and them…true animal guardians. Def a highlight of our getaway!

I’ve been on a long dry spell with my needlefelting. Maybe it’s cuz it’s summertime and my activities are more focused on gardening, harvesting & storing/preserving. This involves a lot of learning as I grow urban farmer wise. Maybe it’s the better weather… or a zillion other reasons. At first this made me think my felting days were done but I think not. I’ve definitely slowed down - a break has been a good thing. I’ve been exploring other creative endeavors like pressing flowers & creating things with them; learning how to hang onions , braid garlic etc. and I have a HUGE novel to read this month for book club. Plus I’m learning all I can about Sicily as we plan to visit there soon. Sometimes the “break” creates space for renewed energy. This is a good thing too. Going slowly teaches so much. These are a few pieces I’ve slowly been working on.

Dog is my love language. These are our handsome & goofy boys: Tai our lab (3yrs)and Luke our lab mix( 2 yrs in a few mns). They are best buddies. They think they are small lapdogs. Luke came to us just 9 mns ago & immediately was a foster to adoption success. I’m the kind of dog mom that loves being home with them…going out but getting home to feed them and walk them is never a chore…I want to be there with them. I love engaging with them much to the distraction of “else”. And I find just witnessing their interactions & their stillness meditative & calming. In fact, I’d rather spend time with them than with most people. Love me love my dogs. They keep me company whenever I’m needlefelting. My lil fan club.

UPLift Moment: I’m not a fast reader ( somewhere inbetween) but I’ve always loved reading. I love language and how words have meaning and power. Spelling… words cast a spell… yes… I feel that. And if those words weave their magic within the first few sentences then I am undone yet transfixed. I have walked about my home moving this book from place to place but today I breathed in that new book smell and wondered to myself why I waited. It simply was the book’s moment to draw me inwards. Oh my… it will be challenging to limit my daily reading so other looming projects get worked on. Gratitude for intelligent lyrical wordsmiths who cast their spells upon me.

What are YOU reading these days? ooks .f.kuang #

WOW! Quite the adventure creating my first ever cow( I did one cow out of a big wool ball so dif from this one). Hours… stabbing.. leg elongation… sculpting… no art background here so it’s always a challenge and a learning and I love that. Betsy is her name and I’m not sure I can let her go…. At least not until I try to create one more. Practice practice practice… is how I learn. Mistakes are good as you grow from them. Photographing my work opens my eyes to where I can improve my work too- a great tool. White bergschaf from .ca ( felted well but maybe too hairy for me. Still debating. )Eyelashes made from little loopy locks( love this wool). Bell from… Lindt chocolate bunny🤣 see me June 3rd

I’ve been nominated by to share one piece of my work for 10 days with the nomination of another artist to do the same.

10 images, 10 different artists, 10 straight days on your business page, no explanation.

This is to promote our creativity, passion and love for what we do but most importantly to support our artisan friends!

Today I nominate .spritz

I’ve been nominated by to share one piece of my work for 10 days with the nomination of another artist to do the same.

10 images, 10 different artists, 10 straight days on your business page, no explanation.

This is to promote our creativity, passion and love for what we do but most importantly to support our artisan friends!

Today I nominate @

#

Sandra from Spirit of Wool is one of our popular guest artisans joining us for the Company’s Coming Antique event June 3. Her needle felting work is amazing and each piece has its own personality. You will be guaranteed to find something to take home for yourself or a gift for that special someone!
She will be set up on the front porch June 3.
697 Stoney Creek Road
Caledonia 10-4

Even while away for my birthday getaway I’ve been needlefelting ( because I find it calming & meditative)and keeping my eyes open for treasures that I might one day combine with my felted pieces. Love these burls!!! I know they will inspire my creativity. These tiny sheep will be coming to on June 3rd! Hope to see you there. One day only.

For my birthday I had THE greatest bestest ever gift of the presence of all 7 wolves. They are grey wolves still in their winter beautiful full fur. After a hike we howled and they gave us a full howl back. Something I have yearned to experience for as long as I can remember. I have always been drawn to the grace and goodness of wolves & their importance to our natural world. I have & always will advocate for their survival and protection. Here’s to Luna(12 yrs!!!), Quest (8yrs), Piper(7 yrs), Ula, Uriel, Union and the “teenager”, Waysaya💗🐾🐺🐺🐺💗Thank you Marena for all your help. Dreams do come true.

Another WIP… I love combining antiques & pieces of our natural world with my whimsical creations. This tree base is an old maple tree tap. I can’t decide if this piece is finished or if I should add something to the round wood section. Any thoughts?

WIP… it’s always fun yet challenging to bring an idea into being. This composition is taking its time coming together and it feels right to me. Love working with naturals: wool, acorn hats, pumpkin stems… it’s the whimsical in me. #

It’s too nice out to be inside soooo felting a wee button mushroom for another shroom wreath while gently swaying in my hanging cocoon wicker chair. I just love this time in spring with few bugs and beautiful warm days. Hope you’re able to get outside and indulge in some natural vitamin D.

Another stellar sunny day mostly spent in Banff with the Bow River falls just beginning to unfreeze…the majestic Tunnel mountain a sentinel of Banff Town…a peak at Johnson lake and Minnewanka lake both frozen…and a gondola ride up Sulphur Mtn to enjoy a long uphill boardwalk to the peak where cosmic dust had been studied decades ago. Mother nature in all her snowy glory welcomed us as peacefully as she could. She sent us two beautiful roadside deer and some Clark nutcrackers. One could sense the gift of calming & joyful energy that being with nature Inspires within us.
So honoured to have spent time like this with my Carolyns.

3 “sisters” … besties for nearly 50 years on a getaway to Canmore and Banff. Time nor distance cannot limit nor break this bond. Some friendships come and go but this golden one is a forever kind of love. Here we are loving an unexpected 11 degree sunny day in Canmore ( where exist the 3 sisters mountains… how serendipitous!) Finding our joy in just being with one another.

Spring fever has set in and it’s coming up mushrooms all over the place! These could lay flat and surround a vase or other centre piece or they could hang as a wreath. Your imagination is your limitation as to how these can become decor in your home or vacation home. Wreaths and mosses from wool from .ca &