The way you can go
isn’t the real way.
The name you can say
isn’t the real name.
Heaven and earth
begin in the unnamed:
name’s the mother
of the ten thousand things.
So the unwanting soul
sees what’s hidden,
and the ever-wanting soul
sees only what it wants.
Two things, one origin,
but different in name,
whose identity is mystery.
Mystery of all mysteries!
The door to the hidden.
Ursula K. Le Guin
The new studio Bloomfelt is under construction.
We hope to reopen in Spring 2018.
May all beings be happy
We started the construction of a new Studio to serve you better for future workshops:
sculptural felting and wearable art.
we will keep you informed about the progress.
The important thing is not to think much, but to love much; and so do that which best stirs you to love.
ST. THÉRÈSE OF LISIEUX
Atelier Bloomfelt is joining the Route des Arts in Argenteuil , Quebec
The butterflies like my felts.
Come and visite 15-23 july, 2017
is it true?, is it kind?is it necessary?
Whatever our souls are made of yours and mine are the same.
EMILY BRONTE
The world is a place where the extraordinary can sit just beside the ordinary with the thinnest of boundaries.
JODI PICOULT
Many paths lead from the foot of the mountain, but at the peak we all gaze at the single bright moon.
IKKYU – ZEN-MONK POET, 1394-1481
“Our soul’s voice reveals our deepest wisdom and our deepest wounds, which is why unleashing our soul’s voice is often our deepest desire and our deepest fear. We ache to be self-expressed, to be authentic, to totally let ‘er rip and yet we are terrified of being that vulnerable, that raw, that real. So we edit, shape or even shut up our unique soul’s voice in order to be accepted, successful, and even loved. But deep down in our bellies, where our power burns the brightest, we know we cannot be of service, we cannot be free, we cannot truly come alive if we aren’t sharing the truth of who we are.” – Sera Beak
The sublime assurance that although everything we love – people, places, possessions – can and likely will eventually be taken from us, the radiant vestiges those loves leave in the soul are permanently ours, and this is the only permanence we’ll ever know.
Patti Smith ,M-train
We want things we cannot have. We seek to reclaim a certain moment, sound, sensation. I want to hear my mother’s voice. I want to see my children as children. Hands small, feet swift. Everything changes. Boy grown, father dead, daughter taller than me, weeping from a bad dream. Please stay forever, I say to the things I know. Don’t go. Don’t grow.
Nothing can be truly replicated. Not a love, not a jewel, not a single line.