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This morning, before beginning a new felt collage, I found myself reflecting not only on the material in front of me but on the invisible energy that keeps me returning to the act of making.

For years, I have been digging into hidden memories, trying to connect fragments that lie scattered in the background of thought. With each piece, something emerges: an echo, a trace, a reminder that would otherwise remain silent. What strikes me is not just the persistence of memory, but the persistence of creation itself.

There is a momentum in art-making that never seems to exhaust itself. It is as if a current moves through me; positive, enlightening, and quietly insistent, giving me the courage to continue unfolding, to keep shaping what lies within into something tangible.

I do not create because I must “produce.” I create because there is a light that refuses to fade. And every time I touch wool, colour, or form, I step into that light again.

Today, under the Sunday sun, I choose to pause and honor this flow before I begin.