Monday, December 31, 2012


the bells
for this New Year
Ring to beckon beginnings
inviting new hopes and promises
Ring for friendship, ring for glee
Ring for travel, adventures, mirth
Ring for beauty, peace, serenity
for you
and for

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Dreamtime,2 December 2012

At first dreams seem impossible, then improbable, then inevitable.
Christopher Reeve

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Frost, 24 November 2012


Il est deux choses qui ne changeront pas,
ni aujourd'hui ni jamais,
car elles existent depuis que le temps est temps:
l'écoulement de l'eau
et le caractère doux et étrange de l'amour.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Tuesday, November 6, 2012


The cloud from Anish Kapoor.
A sculpture what makes one truly happy.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

This morning ,Sunday 28 October

For all that has been, thanks; to all that will be, yes.
Dag Hammarskjöld

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Mist in the morning,20 October

"I have a mind to confuse things, unite
them, make them new-born, mix them up, undress them, until all light in
the world has the oneness of the ocean, a generous, vast wholeness, a
crackling, living fragrance."
Pablo Neruda (translated by Alastair Reid)

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

New beginning ,10 october 2012

Begin anywhere.
John Cage tells us that not knowing where to begin is a common form of paralysis. His advice: begin anywhere.
From: the incomplete manifesto for growth, Bruce Mau

Friday, October 5, 2012

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Exhibition Felt in The Netherlands

In' Koetshuis Mensinge ' in Roden,the Netherlands a unique felt exhibition with 10 professional felters .the show runs from 26 september tot 21 oktober 2012.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Exhibition in piedmont,22/23 September

Coming weekend I have an exhibition at the old train station in Piedmont
Everybody is welcome from 1-4
I will be present at the exhibition

Friday, September 14, 2012

Moon,14 September 2012

The stars are little beauty] fires;
they [glow, but they are just tiny] babies
[next to the splendor of the moon.]

Anyone who is a lover
can see how the moon
in her long gown
shakes a [silver] powder
all around her body,
then sets it afire,
and then how then she [burns]
for her lover
with such a [silver] fire,
all night long,
all night long,
turning first this way
and that in the sky,
spinning ever so slowly
before the eyes that watch her,
loving the eyes that watch her,
turning slowly,
taking all night long
in order to show
-- and slowly --
her every treasure.
C.Pinkola Estès

Tuesday, September 4, 2012


Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage
Anais Nin

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Gratefulness,st Sauveur 2 september 2012

Every morning is like a new reincarnation into this world. Let us take it then for what it is and live each moment anew.

Friday, August 24, 2012

Workshop felt in form, Rensselearville,USA

24 August 2012,
Celtic prayer

I arise today
Trough the strength of heavens,light of sun
Radiance of the moon
Splendor of fire
Speed of lightning
Swiftness of wind
Depth of sea
Stability of earth
Firmness of rock

Monday, August 20, 2012

Contemporary felt exhibition

Felt exhibition in holland
Koetshuis Mensinge ,Roden
29 september -20 oktober 2012

Fiber artists:
Magda Balvers
Anneke Copier /Claudio Varone
Marjolein Dallinga
Marijke Eken
Inge Evers
Jantine Koppert
Kitty Korver
Charity Musoma van der Meer
Jolande van Luijk
Bertina Slettenhaar

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Dutch felt book translated!

The beautiful Dutch felt book from
Ellen Bakker is now translated in English and German
To order here is the link, is een initiatief van Ellen Bakker | | 06-53402796

Saturday, July 14, 2012

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Years from it all

Years from It All

I think we loved so blindly,

every one of us meaning

to explore the other’s face

but knocking over


in the way.

Now each of us,

building dark images of

what we think happened.

I heard a song today

that played when we

were young.

It made me ache

to have you all near

just for a long minute

in which none of us

could speak.

Mark Nepo

Sunday, July 1, 2012


A poem is never finished, only abandoned.
-Paul Valéry
This quote was given to me from Jacqueline,
Thank you

Tuesday, June 19, 2012


Our earth is floating in a cloud of abandoned electronic messages and images.
Let us hope it stays there suspended by invisible threads of the web,
the web which comes ever closer to enveloping us.
Can you surrender to that possibility?
The idea that anyone could find your secrets.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Tree of life

All theory is grey. The tree of life is green, my friends!"
- Goethe

Monday, June 4, 2012


An article about the World of wearable art was published in the magazine ,"
"living in style/plaisir de vivre".
Here is the link :

Friday, June 1, 2012


20:42 ,1 of june 2012
The days are long but the years are short

Wednesday, May 23, 2012


If the soul is a window—

How to keep the window clean?

How to open the window?

How to go outside and

still be inside?

Mark nepo.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Home,15 Mai 2012

Everything’s mine though just on loan,
nothing for the memory to hold,
though mine as long as I look.

Inexhaustible, unembracable,
but particular to the smallest fiber,
grain of sand, drop of water –

I won’t retain one blade of grass
as it’s truly seen.

Salutation and farewell
in a single glance.

For surplus and absence alike,
a single motion of the neck.

From Travel Elergy
- Wislawa Szymborska

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Back home ,Canada ,10 Mai 2012

The Sunlight on the Garden

The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold,
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.

Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.

The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying

And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.

- Louis MacNeice

Monday, May 7, 2012

only from the heart you can touch the sky

[Last day in Australia ,]
Let not pious judge the meek,
Each for his own deeds will speak.
Whether I am good or bad,you judge yourself,
You reap what you sow,find what you seek..

From a Persian poem.

Last days in Melbourne ,Mai 2012


Thursday, May 3, 2012

Intent,leaving Canberra 4 Mai, 2012

With desire and fantasies, others may not know what is lurking in one’s consciousness. But when it comes to intent, this is not the case. When there is intent, any gap between one’s daily actions and what is burning in one’s heart of hearts is closed. Your life reflects your intent. Your intent arrives at the door before you do. The energy of intent is so strong that no matter how you try to hide or camouflage it, it will always shine, even in the dark
Debora Johnson,USA

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Pèlerins,Canberra ,Australia 2 Mai 2012

¨que cherchent ces pèlerins, ils ne savent pas ce qu'ils veulent, ils mettent leur manteau, ils l'enlèvent, ils s'arrêtent pour manger un bout de pain, de fromage et une pomme, ils repartent en nous donnant leur vieux pain sec et puis fini, ils nous quittent mais avant ils nous immortalisent dans un petit appareil pour montrer aux gens qu'ils affectionnent.
Danielle Mercier.

Friday, April 27, 2012

Home is what you are

Traveling from Illawarra to Canberra,Australia
26.April 2012

Monday, April 9, 2012

Australia dreaming

Textile workshops- week ,FIBRE ARTS @ BALLARAT 2012

9 April 2012,Ballarat , Victoria
Very impressed by events during Fiberarts Australia ,continuing dreaming

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Australia,an invitation

Develop interest in life as you see it;
In people,things,literature,music-the world is so rich,simply throbbing with rich treasures,beautiful souls and interesting people.
Forget about yourself.
Henry Miller

Thursday, March 22, 2012


Living like a butterfly

Before the egg there was the thought
and the egg became a caterpillar
which led a good life until
it began to spin a cocoon
turning its outside into an inside.
And then one day the inside turned
into the outside as a butterfly.
A constantly changing morphology.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Thinking like a butterfly

last week I heared the writer Mark Nepo on the radio-podcast
,very intrigued I searched more and found on his blog this poem ,

Thinking Like a Butterfly

February 28th, 2012 by Mark Nepo

Monday I was told I was good.
I felt relieved.
Tuesday I was ignored.
I felt invisible.
Wednesday I was snapped at.
I began to doubt myself.
On Thursday I was rejected.
Now I was afraid.
On Saturday I was thanked
for being me. My soul relaxed.
On Sunday I was left alone
till the part of me that can’t
be influenced grew tired of
submitting and resisting.
Monday I was told I was good.
By Tuesday I got off the wheel.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012


Every crack on the inside is an opening on the outside

Thursday, February 23, 2012


Poem by Hafiz
From my wonderful yoga teacher Louise Bloom

the violin
Can forget the past

It starts to sing

When the violin can stop worrying
About the future

You will become such a drunk laughing nuisance

Then God
Will lean down
And start combing you
Into His

When the violin can forget
Every wound caused by others
Then the heart starts Singing

Saturday, February 18, 2012


Wild Man – lyrics from The album SNOW ,Kate Bush

In the wake of Kate’s new single "Wild Man", we’re very pleased to be able to publish the full lyrics for the song here:

They call you an animal, the Kangchenjunga Demon, Wild Man, Metoh-Kangmi.
Lying in my tent, I can hear your cry echoing round the mountainside.
You sound lonely.
While crossing the Lhakpa-La something jumped down from the rocks.
In the remote Garo Hills by Dipu Marak we found footprints in the snow.

The schoolmaster of Darjeeling said he saw you by the Tengboche Monastery.
You were playing in the snow. You were banging on the doors. You got up on the roof, Roof of the World.
You were pulling up the rhodedendrons. Loping down the mountain.
They want to know you. They will hunt you down, then they will kill you.
Run away, run away, run away...
While crossing the Lhakpa-La something jumped down from the rocks.
In the remote Garo Hills by Dipu Marak we found footprints in the snow.
We found your footprints in the snow. We brushed them all away...
From the Sherpas of Annapurna to the Rinpoche of Qinghai.
Shepherds from Mount Kailash to Himachal Pradesh found footprints in the snow.

You’re not a langur monkey nor a big brown bear – You’re the Wild Man.
They say they saw you drowned near the Rongbuk Glacier.
They want to hunt you down. You’re not an animal.
The Lamas say you’re not an animal.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Song of the amergin

Here's an ancient archetypal poem, the "Song of Amergin." These are some of Ireland's oldest known verses illustrating the Celtic sense of a symbiotic and seamless relationship between the natural and the divine.

I am the wind on the sea;
I am the ocean wave;
I am the sound of the billows;
I am the seven-horned stag;
I am the hawk on the cliff;
I am the dewdrop in sunlight;
I am the fairest of flowers;
I am the raging boar;
I am the salmon in the deep pool;
I am the lake on the plain;
I am the meaning of the poem;
I am the point of the spear;
I am the god that makes fire in the head;
Who levels the mountain?
Who speaks the age of the moon?
Who has been where the sun sleeps?
Who, if not I?

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

New feltbook

A new dutch felt book is out recently.
Don't shy away from the Dutch language this is a very inspiring picture book.
Order information

Sunday, February 5, 2012


You should always have something beautiful in your mind.

Saturday, January 28, 2012

I am


I am the dolphin
who swims in the sea.
I am the dolphin
the dolphin is me.

I am the horse
who runs on the land.
I am the horse
And I understand.

I am the moon
who sits in the sky.
I am the moon
and sometimes I cry.

I am the nomad
who wanders alone.
And what of the nomad
where is my home?

Paul Bateman
Melbourne ,Australia