Traveling to Patzcuaro, Mexico to teach.
Join me on a deeply personal journey through Patzcuaro, Mexico, as I share a collection of emails that chronicle our trip.
Through these emails that I sent out, you’ll experience the real-time excitement of teaching needle felting to local mothers and special needs students, and how that craft became a beacon of hope and a path toward new opportunities.
I invite you to open these personal letters and journey with me through memories of connection, empowerment, and the transformative power of creativity in the heart of Mexico.
January 17th, 2025
A Journey Through Art, Family, and Creativity: Our Path to Morelia, Mexico In just a two days, my husband, son, and I will embark on an exciting adventure to Morelia, Mexico, where I’ll have the privilege of serving as an artist-in-residence. This opportunity will allow me to teach the art of needle felting while continuing to create my own work in a city known for its rich cultural heritage. It feels like a full-circle moment in my artistic journey, which began almost eight years ago during a transformative period of my life.
My introduction to needle felting came from a confluence of motherhood, loss, and the pursuit of creative expression. As a new mother, I was searching for something that could fit seamlessly into my life with a newborn while giving me an outlet for fulfillment. That search ended when I stumbled upon a YouTube video about needle felting. Around the same time, my grandma was battling cancer. Her presence and eventual passing would profoundly shape my path as an artist.
Shortly before she left us, I ordered my first needle felting kit. Upon returning home after her funeral, I found the kit waiting for me—a small but poignant reminder of the importance of creative expression. In a twist of fate, my grandpa had given me a pair of my grandma’s leather gloves, not knowing they would become an essential part of my artistic process. As a beginner, I frequently pricked my fingers, and the gloves provided both protection and a connection to her memory. It’s no exaggeration to say that needle felting entered my life as a gift from her, offering me solace and a means to process my emotions during a difficult time.
Inspired by my grandmother’s love for birds, I began creating life-like textile sculptures that pay tribute to her memory. Birds were her kindred spirits—she adored them, and they seemed to reciprocate. This connection blossomed into my ongoing series, Birds of North America. I often tell people that if my grandma were still alive, none of these creations would be available for anyone else—they would all belong to her.
The journey from those first tentative pokes with a felting needle to where I stand now has been anything but linear. It’s been filled with moments of inspiration, slowdowns, and growth. For years, I practiced needle felting almost daily, honing my craft and developing my skills. Six years in, I finally felt ready to share my knowledge with others. That decision led me to create a website dedicated to teaching needle felting, a space that has grown into a collaborative community of fiber artists, teachers, and students.
Teaching in person, however, remains my greatest joy. The energy of a shared creative space is unmatched, and the opportunity to teach and create in Morelia feels like an extraordinary blessing. I am excited to share this journey with my family. Needle felting has brought me so much—healing, connection, and purpose—and I can’t wait to see what new inspirations await in Mexico.
January 21st, 2025
We’ve Arrived!
After two days of travel and navigating the inevitable “hurry up and wait,” we’ve finally made it—and remarkably, everything went as smoothly as we could have hoped. Our journey began with a flight into Guadalajara, where we spent the night at a conveniently located airport hotel. Early Monday morning, we met our driver, Miguel, and Jesús, one of Michael and Adrian’s sons, who kindly acted as our guide. From there, we set off on a 3.5-hour drive through breathtaking mountain landscapes, gradually climbing to an elevation of 7,200 feet. The scenery was mesmerizing—rolling mountains cloaked in forests, sprinkled with quaint small towns. Our destination, Morelia, is a lively city of one million residents nestled in the heart of the state of Michoacán.
Reaching our final stop was a small adventure in itself. The exited the highway to a rugged dirt road winding past farms and homes in various stages of construction. When Eric asked about the incomplete buildings, we learned that mortgages are uncommon in Mexico, so homes are built gradually, as funds allow. It’s a testament to the resilience and resourcefulness of the people here.
As we turned onto a narrow street, a rancher riding his horse greeted us warmly. Moments later, we arrived at the property, where Michael and Adrian welcomed us with open arms and guided us to what will be our home for the month.
The house is quintessentially Mexican, constructed primarily of brick and mortar. It’s spacious, with interconnected structures.. After settling into our rooms, we enjoyed a delicious lunch prepared by Mariana, an extraordinarily talented chef. Her culinary skill, combined with her quiet kindness and infectious smile, won us over instantly.
After the hearty meal, we explored the campus. The property is expansive, featuring around 30 buildings, including a school, a beautiful church, guest accommodations, a library, and spaces for workouts, meditation, and yoga.
The day ended on a quiet note with a little Tom and Jerry and the three of us turning in early—completely spent but filled with anticipation.
The second day was a whirlwind. We began with a family breakfast, lovingly prepared by Mariana, before heading to Morelia with Michael and Adrian. They gave us a mini-tour of the city to help us acclimate before we got behind the wheel (as I write this Eric is on his first trip to the city to buy supplies for his project) and took us to Costco where we stocked up on snacks and essentials.
Back at the school, we enjoyed another deliciously large lunch—meals here are fewer but more substantial. Afterward, I organized my studio and classroom space before attending a meeting with the staff. During the introductions, I learned more about my responsibilities: I’ll be teaching two groups—mothers and students with special needs. The madres all have children who attend the school, and their eagerness to build skills and gain confidence to create marketable products deeply resonated with me. It’s a weighty responsibility, but one I’m eager to carry.
As for photos—I’ve barely taken any! Everything is so new and overwhelming that I’ve been focused on absorbing it all. But I promise to share more soon.
Tomorrow marks the first day of classes, and it’s also Jordan’s first day at an entirely Spanish-speaking school. Wish us luck—we’re ready for the adventure!
.
January 27th, 2025
Every Christmas, my grandmother made a stuffed cauliflower.. Last week, on the very first day of teaching, I walked into the dining area to find a stuffed cauliflower sitting on the table. Mariana, the cook, had prepared it. It wasn’t an exact replica of my grandma’s recipe, but it was close enough—smothered in cheese and spices. I nearly cried. Somehow, it felt like a gift sent directly from my grandmother, as if she were reassuring me: You’ve got this.
That happened at lunch on our first day of teaching. My first day began with teaching a group of mothers. Our first project, Needle-felted sheep. It was a bit tedious but essential for teaching the fundamentals of shaping. At first, the women were quiet, likely assessing the new gringa in the room. But about an hour in, I shared the story of my accidental creation of a voodoo doll. That broke the ice; laughter filled the room. Though the sheep weren’t finished by the time they left, I could tell they were skeptical about whether their efforts would pay off.
Between classes, I joined Eric and Jordan for a meet-and-greet with the teachers and students. Jordan had a rough start, staying with Eric’s class for the first hour. But when the kids headed out to play fútbol, everything changed. Jordan jumped in, and the game turned into a perfect icebreaker, easing him into the rhythm of the day.
At 12:30, my second group arrived. Michael had described them as “special needs, but nothing severe.” Having worked with special needs kids before, I felt prepared—until I realized just how varied their abilities were.
Melisa has Down syndrome and thrives on clear instruction, even if she doesn’t fully grasp needle felting. Perla and Aura, who both have Asperger's, approach the craft differently—Aura can hyperfocus on one spot, while Perla needs time to grasp new concepts but excels once she does. Then there’s Susana, who functions at a much younger developmental age. She struggles to focus on her work and often becomes distracted by others.
Day 1 with them was a learning experience. Sheep were not the right project to start with. By the end of the class, I was racking my brain for ways to make needle felting more accessible to this wonderful, diverse group.
As I headed to lunch, still searching for solutions, I saw the stuffed cauliflower. It felt like my grandma whispering, Don’t worry. We’ve got this. That afternoon, I stumbled upon four heart-shaped cookie cutters. No one could explain where they came from—another gift from Grandma, perhaps?
On Day 2, I introduced the cookie cutter hearts. The mothers finished their sheep and lit up when they saw the new project, eagerly making their own hearts. When my special needs group arrived, it was a game-changer. They took to the hearts immediately. Aura and Perla thrived, Melisa followed instructions beautifully, and even Susana, with the help of my incredible translator Juan, managed to create her first heart. The room buzzed with laughter and stories about their love lives as they worked.
The rest of the week flew by. By Friday, we were exhausted but felt a growing sense of accomplishment. Eric, Jordan, and I had found our groove.
That weekend, Michael and Adrian treated us to a getaway in Morelia. They lent us a Jeep for the trip, and we stayed in a hotel in the heart of the city. Morelia’s Cathedral was breathtaking, with its soaring ceilings, intricate carvings, and quiet reverence. We wandered the bustling streets, dodging people and cars, until Jordan begged to return to the hotel to swim.
On Sunday, we discovered that the area around the cathedral transforms into a family day, free of vehicles. Vendors, performers, and families filled the streets. It was wonderful—children zipping by on scooters, vibrant markets overflowing with life.
After a leisurely lunch at a hidden gem of a restaurant recommended by our kind taxi driver, we headed back to the school, stopping at Mega (a local equivalent of Walmart) for supplies. Among other things, I picked up more cookie cutters for my special needs girls.
Now, it’s Monday again. As I prepare for another week of teaching, I feel ready—buoyed by the challenges and blessings of the last few days. Here’s to new projects, new connections, and new beginnings.
February 3rd, 2025
We are now stepping into our third week in Patzcuaro, Mexico. Although I sometimes mention Morelia, a larger and better-known city nearby, it’s Patzcuaro which we are closest to. A city of approximately 100,000 but our location still feels like we are in the country.
Our week began with the familiar rhythm of classes. In the mothers’ group, we wrapped up a llama project and then set our sights on a sleeping fox. Meanwhile, the special needs group explored projects that ranged from penguins and frogs to experimenting with shapes inspired by cookie cutters.
The progress in the mothers’ group has been amazing. At the start of the week, I was cautiously assessing who might be interested in launching a business selling felt creations. I was confident about one participant, while the others—2 of which are a young mother and an expectant mom—left me unsure if they would have the time or energy. Karen, in particular, had shown thoughtful interest by asking pertinent questions, but I hadn’t expected many others to consider selling. By week’s end, however, Karen announced that the entire group plans to enter the market as my competitors, and two of the mothers have already received orders. It’s a promising turn that aligns perfectly with one of my key goals: to spark entrepreneurial spirit through creative ventures.
In the special needs group, the transformation has been equally heartening. Susie, once my most challenging student, has gradually grasped the basics and now completes simple projects with a new found confidence. Melisa, a student with Down Syndrome, has embraced the process of needle felting with a focused intensity—so much so that when she’s working, all else seems to fade away. She even surprised us by creating a crab design entirely on her own. Perla, a 15-year-old with Asperger’s, initially appeared reserved. However, as the week progressed, she began to engage more freely, diving into projects with minimal guidance and even sharing her techniques with peers. Aura, also with Asperger’s, remains wonderfully social, often chatting about her boyfriend who is in my husband’s class. Despite the distractions, her current focus is creating hearts for her boyfriend for Valentine’s Day.
After our classes wrapped up for the week, I spent Friday catching up on work and then dedicated the weekend to exploring the local area. Our first stop was Tzintzuntzan, a small lakeside town just a 20-minute drive away. Here, we spent several hours wandering among five ancient pyramid platforms known as “Yacatas,” built by the Purepecha people in the 12th century. The discovery of petroglyphs added an extra layer of intrigue, prompting multiple walks around the site to take it all in.
We also visited the town itself, where we admired a Catholic church featuring ancient olive trees—about 500 years old—planted by a defiant priest who resisted Spanish orders. A stroll through the open-air markets later in the day allowed us to absorb the local flavor before returning for some well-earned rest.
On Sunday, we explored the heart of Patzcuaro, visiting the Basilica and a sprawling market that offered a little bit of everything. Now, as we enter Monday, we’re gearing up for another week of classes, with plans to visit the beach later on.
This week has blended learning, creativity, and a touch of local history, setting a promising tone for the days ahead.
.
February 7th, 2025
The Story of Instituto Educativo de Guadalupe
It recently dawned on me that, despite all this time, I’ve never truly shared the history of this extraordinary place.
Unraveling its story has been a challenge—I chuckle as I write this—because I’ve heard four different versions, all consistent except for the dates. So, let’s start with what we know for sure: In 2004, the Instituto Educativo de Guadalupe was born.
The Visionary Behind It All
More than 20 years ago, Michael came to Mexico with a mission—to establish an orphanage. He purchased the land where we now stand and began laying the foundation. At the time, the only structure on the property was a small house which is part of the house we are now living in. Over the years, additional buildings were constructed, and today, most of them serve the Instituto.
Michael is a man of immense generosity, a lawyer, and a businessman—an unusual but powerful combination that has enabled him to create not only this institution for children but also senior centers for those in need in Oregon. His heart and vision brought us here, and over time, he has surrounded himself with like-minded individuals who share his passion for helping others.
The Orphanage That Became Something More
In 2004, Michael established an orphanage on the property. However, he quickly realized that traditional orphanages and the culture of Mexico were not an ideal match. Here, families often take in children informally rather than navigating the complexities of the government-run adoption system. At the time, government involvement was something people avoided at all costs.
Still, Michael’s impact was profound—before transitioning away from the orphanage model, he adopted three boys: Juan, Jesús, and Marco.
Recognizing the need for a different approach, the orphanage evolved into something greater—a camp designed for individuals from ages 5 to 70, particularly those with special needs or from impoverished and challenging backgrounds.
A Camp Unlike Any Other
The camp’s mission was to empower underserved individuals by equipping them with confidence and life skills. Operating five days a week, it provided immersive, overnight experiences filled with excursions, hands-on workshops led by skilled craftsmen, tutoring for those who had never set foot in a traditional classroom, and exposure to opportunities they might never have otherwise encountered.
For years, the camp changed lives, but sustaining such a program was costly. Eventually, another transformation was necessary.
The Birth of the Instituto
In 2019, the camp transitioned into a school, operating seven days a week and welcoming three different groups each day—children with special needs, those from impoverished backgrounds, and students struggling within the traditional school system.
Initially, class sizes were larger, but when the pandemic hit, they were reduced to just seven students per group. The unexpected silver lining? Smaller classes allowed for deeper impact, and even after COVID-19 restrictions were lifted, the small-group model remained.
This isn’t a conventional school—it’s a place of support, growth, and healing. Many students are enrolled in public school but need extra help due to academic struggles, trauma, or difficult home lives. Here, they receive personalized attention, access to a psychiatrist, and mentors who recognize their potential and help them realize it. Some come for just a few weeks, others for a year, but the goal is always the same: to build them up so they can return to mainstream education with newfound confidence.
For students with special needs, this is often the only educational setting they have ever known. It provides them with social interaction, life skills, and a safe space to grow.
A Special Place in Need of Support
What Michael—and now Adrian by his side—has built is nothing short of remarkable. But like all non-profits, it depends entirely on donations. The Instituto is supported by the Boedecker Foundation and operates under World Sparks, a nonprofit founded by Michael.
Unfortunately, financial struggles have led to hard decisions. Due to a lack of funding, the school will be forced to close early for the summer this year—shutting its doors in June instead of August to cut costs. They will reopen at the end of September, but sustaining the work being done here depends on continued generosity.
If this story resonates with you, I encourage you to visit the website I am adding to learn more or consider making a donation. Every contribution helps keep these doors open for the children who need them most.
A Personal Reflection
For Eric and me, being invited to be part of this place has been an immense privilege. The experience of teaching here, even in a small capacity, has been deeply humbling. We have only contributed a tiny drop in the ocean compared to what Michael and Adrian have built, but the opportunity to give back in even this small way has been a true blessing to us.
This isn’t a one-time experience for us—we fully intend to return, whether yearly or every other year, to continue supporting this incredible mission. The work being done here is too important, too impactful, to simply walk away from.
We are grateful beyond words to have been welcomed into this community, and we hope to be a small part of its story for years to come.
February 10th, 2025
One week left. Three more days of classes, three days of exploration.
Our time here has been wonderful, but the pull of home is growing stronger. Well, at least for Eric and me. Jordan, on the other hand, has said he would happily extend our stay another ten months. He misses his pets and school friends, but in his heart, Mexico has become a second home. The only thing I’m not looking forward to upon our return? The weather. Rumors of 20 inches of snow and freezing temperatures have me bracing for impact.
That said, I can’t wait to snuggle our pets, settle back into daily rhythms, and most of all, return to my studio.
Initially, I came here as an artist-in-residence, but personal creative work has taken a backseat to teaching and preparing for classes. Any artist-parent will understand—true creative immersion is elusive when your child is sharing your space. And with many of my materials and tools waiting back home, I've felt the itch to create but not exactly the means and time.
Yet, inspiration is everywhere. Mexico has filled my mind with ideas, and my studio is calling. First on my list: a commissioned piece of Our Lady of Guadalupe for Michael and Adrian. Her image is everywhere in Mexico—seen in murals, schools, and streets alike. If all goes as planned, I hope to craft a three-dimensional representation of her for the school.
Last week was a breakthrough for my students—the moment when everything "clicked." This final week is all about play. They have the freedom to create whatever they desire, with me there to guide them if they get stuck.
The mothers and I have been working on a 2D wool painting for an upcoming gallery show at Crossroads in Baker City. When I first proposed the idea, they embraced it without hesitation. However, as the project became real, some wavered—until Miriam added a sun and moon this sparked excitement and ignited their creativity. Now, the piece is coming to life, with Mari and Karen set to add their final touches this week.
To wrap up last week, we took a quick trip to Ixtapa to experience the ocean before heading home. It was Jordan’s second time in warm water, and keeping him out of the waves was nearly impossible—just as hard as keeping him away from the endless sodas and ice cream at the resort. Though brief, the trip was well worth it. And for the record, traveling by bus in Mexico? It is better than first class on an airplane. We even had a stewardess!
Now, back at the school, everyone is focused on finishing their projects. Eric and his students are completing the climbing wall, my women’s group is putting the final touches on their artwork, and Jordan is soaking up every last moment with the people here.
A little over a week from now and we’ll be home. Although we are ready to be back we will miss it.
.
February 15th, 2025
Final Days: A Heartfelt Farewell
Our last day of teaching arrived on Thursday, bringing with it a wave of emotions that none of us were quite prepared for.
The week began with the familiar day to day, but instead of structured projects, creativity was set free. The special needs kids and mothers were invited to create whatever their hearts desired. Elephants, hummingbirds, dogs, teddy bears, and horses came to life from wool and imagination. I floated between students, offering guidance when needed. The special needs girls were also given full creative freedom. What started as a dog sometimes transformed into a parrot. Melisa and Perla, however, were steadfast in their vision—each focused on crafting a doll.
A particularly moving moment unfolded with Aura, a member of the special needs group. She had often preferred chatting to felting, her hands still while others worked. But on Tuesday, everything changed. Using a cookie cutter, she half-heartedly began felting a flower. When she announced she was finished, I saw an opportunity. I brought over wire and sat beside her, wrapping it in green wool to form a stem. I attached it to her flower. Her eyes lit up with delight. Without any prompting, she added leaves. By the end of the session, she held a small bouquet.
As Thursday approached, whispers of a farewell fiesta circulated. Initially planned as a small gathering with staff and family on Friday, it was quietly shifted to Thursday. We weren’t told much, but we’ve grown adept at embracing the unexpected. At 2 PM, we found ourselves on the covered basketball court, now transformed with streamers, balloons, and a piñata-style bull at its center. Mariana bustled about—a sure sign that delicious food was coming.
The children arrived in a neat line, Jordan among them. He ran straight to our table, joining us and Michael and Adrian’s family. The mothers followed, along with the special needs students and the staff who made everything possible.
The celebration began with steaming bowls of posole, plates of tacos and concluded with tears.
There was music and dancing—even Jordan joined in. The children staged a playful bullfight, and several students delivered moving speeches. Then came the part that broke us. One by one, the children approached Jordan, each presenting a handmade card and a hug. Antonio, eyes brimming with tears, read his letter aloud. Michael translated: a message of friendship, of how much Jordan would be missed.
Michael then spoke to Jordan directly, thanking him for his courage in coming and spending time with the children. He hoped Jordan would never forget this experience and expressed gratitude for the kindness he had shown. He reminded Jordan that, while he may have more in life, at the core, he was just like them.
Afterward, the special needs students came to Eric and me, offering their own cards and embraces. Perla, my steadfast student, wept. Of all the girls, she had found the most joy and promise in our felting sessions.
Michael closed the gathering with final words, and the staff surprised us with gifts. Yet, the most poignant moment for me came as we were leaving. The mothers approached to say goodbye. Miriam, tears streaming, held me tightly, thanking me for the time I had given her and for the gift of felting. Her gratitude was overwhelming, and soon, we were all crying.
Saying goodbye was harder than we anticipated. By day's end, we were emotionally spent, yet profoundly grateful.
Our remaining days will be filled with a trip to the zoo in Morelia and a visit to the copper town of Santa Clara del Cobre. Sunday will be for packing and more farewells. On Monday, we return home to snow and cold, carrying with us the warmth of this place and its people.
Thank you for journeying with us. I will send another update in a week or two once I complete the collaborative piece.
Christie
Contact me
If you have any questions about this trip or interest in having a fiber artist come teach, feel free to reach out to me.