"For my part, I know nothing with any certainty but the sight of the stars makes me dream." ~Vincent van Gogh
I love to make stars: stars to hang from hooks, stars to wear in your hair, stars to pin on your jacket, stars to wear around your neck, stars to string across a window or wrap around a tree, and stars to hang on a wall.
I make my stars out of thick wool felt. I don't buy my felt, and I don't make it from raw sheep's wool, either. I make it from old, abandoned sweaters and blankets - items that have been discarded by their owners. I get my sweaters from tag sales, and generous friends, yard sales and The Salvation Army. Somewhere I even have a Goodwill Industries "frequent shopper" card.
The piece shown here, "Starry Squares," is a wall hanging I made. It is about 28" x 20." Doing a piece like this involves a lot of cutting and a lot of stitching, with heavy wool thread.
When I am in heavy-duty work mode, my hands get strong, my arms and shoulders ache, and my finger tips get calloused from all the needle pricks. You wouldn't want to hold hands with me. But I love doing it. I love working with the wool that comes to me with a history of its own. I love putting all those lives together - each piece from a different place, another kind of life.

"One summer night, out on a flat headland, all but surrounded by the waters of the bay, the horizons were remote and distant rims on the edge of space. Millions of stars blazed in darkness, and on the far shore a few lights burned in cottages. Otherwise there was no reminder of human life. My companion and I were alone with the stars: the misty river of the Milky Way flowing across the sky, the patterns of the constellations standing out bright and clear, a blazing planet low on the horizon. It occurred to me that if this were a sight that could be seen only once in a century, this little headland would be thronged with spectators. But it can be seen many scores of nights in any year, and so the lights burned in the cottages and the inhabitants probably gave not a thought to the beauty overhead; and because they could see it almost any night, perhaps they never will." - Rachel Carson