A Year Begins in Wool: How Intention Shapes My Creative Process

A new year doesn’t burst into my studio shouting, “Let’s go!”
It tiptoes in. Usually with a cup of tea. And a pile of wool waiting patiently to become something.

I like to think of January as a soft opening—not a grand reveal. Ideas don’t arrive fully dressed and ready for the stage. They arrive as whispers, half-formed creatures, and gentle nudges that say, “Not yet… but soon.” I let them linger. I let them nap. I let them surprise me.

My ideas form the same way felt does—slowly, with intention, and a little bit of magic. A memory might tangle itself into a color choice. A story might hide inside a shape. Some ideas stay flat for a while before they decide to stand up on their own. That waiting isn’t wasted time; it’s part of the making.

Working by hand sets the tone for my entire year. Wool has opinions. It resists, cooperates, stretches, and settles when it’s ready—not when I demand it to. Needle by needle, stitch by stitch, it teaches me to slow down, pay attention, and trust the process. There’s no rushing a piece into being; it becomes itself when it’s good and ready.

That rhythm follows me beyond the studio. It shapes how I plan, how I dream, and how I move through the year ahead. I choose projects the way I choose fibers—with care, curiosity, and a sense of play. What story wants to be told? What wants to grow quietly over time?

As this new year begins, I’m not chasing perfection or speed. I’m choosing softness with strength. Wonder with purpose. And a creative life built the same way my art is—by hand, with heart, and just enough whimsy to keep things interesting.

If you’d like to follow along as this year takes shape—through new work, behind-the-scenes glimpses, and stories stitched in wool—I’d love to have you join me.

Sign up for my email list, visit the studio, or simply pause here now and then to see what’s quietly coming to life. Every piece begins with intention… and sometimes, with you.