Mothers Day

Mum is asleep in her chair. I have given her my gift, a little jug with four daffodils. I couldn’t make any more as I ran out of yellow. I hope she likes it, although she barely acknowledges it. I hope our efforts towards her go in somewhere.

I’ve seen wonderful little objects, at artists open studios and craft fairs, made with some kind of felt, but I didn’t know how they were made! I discovered the technique [ needle felting] quite recently. It has a magical, but rather vicious quality, as you take a strand of the softest wool, lay it on a sponge foam bed and with a rather sharp barbed needle repeatedly stab at it.

The fibres in the wool start to bind together very quickly, and out of this harsh treatment come beautiful soft forms, which belie their making. I realise even as I write this that it is a bit like life, which can throw such harshness at us and yet when we persevere through the pain we can often find that something beautiful has come out of it.

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