Weaving Beads, Dreams, Sunbeams and Moon Streams.
Beading is my meditation. Life is my muse. When I am making a piece, time disappears. Experiential understanding joins creative exploration in a dance strait from the Source. A Creatress, I was born to do this: To weave together fabrics, dimensions, seeds, beads and multi-cultural explorations in wisdom. To use my hands and the power of my imagination in order to inspire and hopefully influence others to slow down, step back and appreciate the finer, intricate expressions in life. To use my heart and the power of my intention to make manifest the seeds embedded in the pieces as I weave. To show up to life, every day, willing and able to have the courage to move beyond my own self-limiting beliefs in order to birth into being a new beautiful expression of the Deep Feminine Mystery, which is the very source at the center of my musing.
My pieces are a merging of my own creative expression and a guiding whisper from spirit. I take risks. I play. I make it a practice to get out of my own way, leaving room for intuition to take hold. My hands become so much more than mine, they become conduits for the divine to express itself. I am guided by the Grandmothers who have woven wisdom throughout the ages, guided by Grandmother Spider who weaves the web of creation and guided by the Grandmother within myself. I am continuously amazed at what happens when I find balance between surrendering to this process with humility and fiercely playing my role, active as a Creatress.
I was always an artist, but when I found bead embroidery/beadweaving in Feb. 2013, my inner creative fire truly began to roar. I took a two hour class, learned a couple of basics and from there it felt more like an act of remembering than an act of learning. I had just lost a loved one, completely rocking my world. Beading is where I found myself again. It gave me steadiness and actually forced me to get really still and hone in on the present with all of my focus. Drift outside of myself and BAM needle in the finger, a bead misplaced or thread twisted; but usually it was the sting of the needle that would bring me back to center. A little bit like life, in my eyes.