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Threads of wool, soft as clouds, carry the weight of warmth and wonder.

Over the past few months, I have been working with felt almost nonstop, and I realize now how much my focus has shifted from painting to textile art. Felt making has become more than just a practice; it feels like a healing process, something very close to my heart.

Wool has a kind of heavenly magic. The more I work with it, the less burdened I feel about life. It fascinates me that such a simple material can hold so much power. No wonder it protects the animal so well: it keeps them warm through harsh weather, shields them from insects, plants, and harmful organisms.

During felting, wool transforms before my eyes. When wet, it can hold so much water that it becomes incredibly heavy. But once dry, it turns soft, light, and almost weightless — as if it carries within it both gravity and gentleness.

I cannot stop celebrating its goodness. Every time I touch wool, I discover new reasons to love it. Perhaps this is why I feel compelled to share my joy here to shout it out loud: wool is a wonder of life, and felting is my way of honoring it.