A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about the Altars & Amulets workshop that was then on the horizon and articulated the notion that making symbolic objects, as a form of sacred remembering, is a powerful form of activism…
Now, in the aftermath of the workshop, I thought I’d share more about the little pieces I worked on - and that have been working on me - over the last six weeks or so.
Heading into the workshop, I was feeling quite creatively dry. A bit bored, a bit uninspired, a bit exhausted by the angst of my life and the horrors of the news.
Then came the assignment to make a couple of exemplars so we could show the kind of little shrines that workshop participants might like to make. Suddenly, I had a reason to look at lots of images of small shrines and altars made in the Mexican folk art tradition that first inspired me as a gringo kid growing up in New Mexico.
I also looked around my own living space and realized how deeply embedded Mexican folk art is in my sense of self and place.

Diving back into the world of Mexican folk art after too long away,
I saw vibrant color
I saw images of the divine feminine spirit - in the form of the Virgin de Guadalupe, or Mary, or flowers and animals
I saw glitter, lots and lots of glitter, and other light-giving elements, too
I saw an unabashed, celebratory tradition of keeping the sacred alive and present in daily life
and something in me started to perk up.
With the excuse of “workshop preparation” to spur me on, I started what has now become a series of small shrines in a folk art style. And oh my goodness what fun!
I “accidentally” stumbled on a perfect storm of heart-opening and creative juice-flowing elements:
The small scale of these pieces feels manageable at a time when larger works feel beyond my energy reserves.
The permission to Go For It with color and glitter has not only been fully joyful, it has awakened me to how my playful, sparkle-loving soul has gotten a little tamed over the years by my desire to have my work perceived as “art” rather than “craft.”
At a time when it is easy to feel that our culture has lost its connection to essential human values, the explicitly sacred spaces of these little shrines has been an invitation to connect to the deep wishes of my heart and make little prayers to animate them in the world.
And then, in the workshop itself, there was the deeply moving experience of communion with other women who are eager to reclaim practices of creative renewal of self, family, ancestors, and community, through symbolic play.
Melissa and I set the context from the outset that we were NOT there to produce art but to explore the experience of allowing ourselves to be guided by objects that are wanting to be in conversation with us on themes of healing, family, ancestors, and spirit, and we all took this to heart - focusing on allowing our work to be unpolished, intuitive, and even a little wild.
I have come away from the experience feeling like I’m ready to embrace my roots as a folk artist - not to the exclusion of calling myself an assemblage artist (with all the “fine art” associations of that language) - but as a statement of my roots in the sacred traditions of making tangible prayers from the scraps of everyday life. My detail and polish-loving self is still navigating the invitation to greater wildness, but hoo boy, this dive into unlimited glitter, color, and shine feels like a wonderful beginning!
An Invitation for the Week
As your thinking about your own journey of creating this week, I have three questions for you to noodle on:
Does the idea of “working smaller” feel like it might be a helpful strategy for you in getting unstuck or finding some new traction for your creative work?
What would it look like for you to bring more literal or metaphorical glitter into your creations? Is it time to explore ways to reflect more light in your work or life?
What in your environment is flirting with you? Is there a color, an object, a word, or an image that feels like it wants to play with you? Can you give yourself permission to take up the invitation without demanding that it result in a “product”?
Oh! I wish I had heard about the workshop in time to participate. Your comment about working smaller really resonated with me. I have the perhaps mistaken feeling that working larger means working on more important things, but my work really wants to be smaller.
Oh this is sparking so many good things for me, Sara!
I feel it's all still dancing on the edges of my consciousness, but I know they're there.
Your journey into calling yourself a folk artist, bringing unlimited glitter, will spark many new beginnings ☺️ for all of us.
And new bedroom art.