About me
Behind the thread: the weaver
For years I devoted myself to the helping relationship. At 47, after a period accompanying people through cancer processes, a question kept presenting itself to me:
Am I inhabiting and honouring life? What energy am I nourishing: that of life or that of death?
It was then that I decided, for the first time, to give myself time to stop. I needed to listen to myself and recalibrate. This stage also coincided with a personal moment of hormonal upheaval that made me not recognise myself at times, and that invited me to rediscover myself with an innocent, curious gaze before the new inner landscapes.
It was first a time of regenerating rest, of letting myself be moved by the beauty of small things. Little by little, an impulse toward action arose, a desire to explore new facets I hadn't allowed myself, like music and singing, and to delve into and enjoy more of others already known, like cooking and dance. A space of listening and contact, from which a deep need arose, until then silenced: to express and show part of my essence by creating and giving birth to a personal project, without using the anchor of therapy and accompaniment.
A project that appeared in a dream at 48 and that has taken shape with the roots of a trunk that has been nourished by the different experiences lived and inhabited, and that takes forms in its branches.
Today...
I am a lover of living silence. In love with dance, music, singing and contemplating the beauty of life, nature and the passing of each day. I believe in the value of simple things, of savouring slow cooking, a meal, a caress or a landscape.
I continue on the path of love and of embracing what is; of love and gratitude toward myself, toward others and toward life. I walk learning to embrace mistakes as part of the landscape, to bring play to life, to set my gaze on the light and to show who I am with everything: with my imperfections and with my gifts.
I am inspired by nature, its cycles and its circular, fluid movements. Colours, plants, flowers, the sky and its inhabitants. I find a deep meaning in the idea of cycle (the cycle of life, life and death, dawn and dusk, the phases of the moon, a woman's hormonal cycle). And I am inspired by the geometry of the circle as a welcoming space, fluid, in constant movement and a container of life.
And from this circular, welcoming space many of my hilomandalas are born: threads that intertwine to honour life, silence and the beauty of the instant.
