with human hair…
Breathe
the breath
of the ocean
connect
with cycles
of life
death
In her name
we find
creation’s embrace
infinite tides
Each wave a breath
Each breath a life
By Theda Sandiford
Studio Visit: Ritual Practice Evolution
Spring into Summer: Studio Time, Travel, and Art Adventures Ahead
It’s shaping up to be a beautiful, art-filled stretch of spring and summer, and I wanted to share what’s coming up in my world—especially for those of you in the NYC/NJ/PA area who’ve been asking when we can connect.
First stop: Jersey City! I’ll be in town April 6–15, working on an installation project and staying at my studio at 15 Wilkinson Avenue, #3B2. I’m carving out time to get deep into the work, but I’m also hoping to squeeze in some good conversation, studio visits, and inspiration—so if you’re nearby, let’s connect.
After that, it’s back home to St. Croix to prepare for our Jubilee Pilgrimage to Rome (April 19–May 1). I’ve been brushing up on my Italian since November, and I’m beyond excited to explore the art, food, architecture, and rhythm of Italy—Pompeii, the Colosseum, the Trevi Fountain, and so many little moments in between. Can’t wait to share glimpses of it all with you.
On our return, we’re headed to Nyack, NY, to spend a quiet week with my mom (May 2–7)—always one of the sweetest resets.
Then, things pick back up again quickly. On May 7, I’ll be installing work for the 1-54 Contemporary African Art Fair, which runs May 8–11 in downtown NYC. If you’re planning to attend, please let me know—I’d love to see some familiar faces!
Later this summer, I’m thrilled to have work included in Fiberart International 2025, opening at Brew Arts in Pittsburgh on June 19. I’ll be at the artist walk-through on June 21, then swinging through Jersey City again for a few days (June 22–26) before heading to Millersville, PA for the MAFA Conference, where I’ll be installing an interactive Emotional Baggage Cart experience.
If you’re in NY, NJ, or PA, let’s find a moment to catch up—whether it’s a studio hang, a shared meal, or an art adventure. Drop me a line and let me know what dates might work. I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been up to.
March: Celebrating Small Wins
This month, I’m focused on noticing and celebrating the small wins that often get overlooked. In a world that sometimes measures success by big, public milestones, I’m finding joy in the quieter victories that keep me moving forward.
Completing an unfinished piece of art, mentoring a student through their first creative breakthrough, or building raised beds the prepare for the next growing season—these moments might seem small on their own, but they build toward something much larger. Acknowledging them helps me stay motivated and connected to my goals.
One particularly meaningful experience these past months is seeing how our first residency artists at Sky Garden have settled into the space. Watching someone else find inspiration here, has affirmed my belief in the power of this creative community. And the resulting feedback has been helpful in refining Sky Garden programming and the compound itself
As I work toward the longer-term project, launching the paid residency programming, I’m learning to embrace patience and trust in the process. There’s something grounding about celebrating what’s already been accomplished rather than focusing solely on what’s ahead.
These reflections remind me to pause and appreciate the journey. Progress isn’t always dramatic; often, it’s the steady accumulation of small, meaningful steps.
Liminal Staff
Liminal Staff
Theda Sandiford
32x12x4”
Recovered marine line, sea tumbled, woven and knotted with alpaca wool, fabric, acrylic yarn, beads, shells, washers, vintage watch and deconstructed line
2024
Liminal Staff is an emblem of authority and sovereignty. It stands as a sacred artifact, a conduit between worlds, bearing witness to the unseen threads that bind the past, present, and future. Crafted from recovered marine line, sea-tumbled and imbued with layers of memory, it is woven and knotted with alpaca wool, fabric, acrylic yarn, beads, shells, washers, vintage watch parts, and deconstructed line. Each element tells a story, a fragment of life reclaimed from the chaos of hurricanes, transformed into a vessel of spiritual protection and ancestral reverence.
This work emerges from the tension of being both tethered and adrift. It honors the countless lives lost to the Atlantic, the water graves of the enslaved, and the resilience of those who survived. The Liminal Staff bridges realms—living and dead, land and sea—echoing the pull of tides and the cyclical rhythm of existence. Conjure bags, locs of hair, and marine debris lend their essence to this creation, layering it with magic, memory, and the energy of reclamation.
We are water’s kin, caught in its perpetual embrace. This piece reminds us of our origins and the call of the ocean’s depths, where our spirits forever reside. Like the rivers that flow unerringly toward the sea, the Liminal Staff symbolizes our eternal connection to nature’s grace, the harmony between destruction and renewal, and the enduring strength of the human spirit to find its way home
February: Building Structure into Creative Practice
This month, I’ve been focusing on the rhythms of my days, creating a structure that supports both productivity and joy. Balancing time between the studio, Sky Garden Gallery projects, and my commitments to Hidden Beach requires intentionality, but it’s rewarding to see everything coming together.
One thing I’ve found helpful is setting clear boundaries around my creative time. Mornings are now sacred for studio work. Whether I’m stitching, dyeing, or sketching, this uninterrupted time allows me to immerse myself in the process. Afternoons often shift to collaboration—mentoring residency artists or planning upcoming events, like our new Art Salon Dinner series.
Adapting to this structure hasn’t been without challenges. Some days flow effortlessly; others feel scattered. I’ve learned to be flexible and forgiving, recognizing that creativity isn’t always linear. Taking short breaks to walk Sky Garden STX or sit quietly under the canopy of the Saman tree often helps me reset.
This balance of structure and spontaneity has deepened my connection to my practice. I’m reminded that nurturing creativity is as much about showing up consistently as it is about staying open to inspiration when it comes.
As February ends, I feel grateful for the steady foundation I’m building. It’s a reminder that success doesn’t come from rushing toward goals but from weaving intention into the fabric of each day.
I Keep Seeing 11, 1:11, and 11:11… EVERYWHERE
Have you ever caught yourself looking at the clock at just the right moment—11:11—or noticed 1:11 appearing on receipts, phone screens, or random places? Lately, these numbers have been showing up in my daily life with such consistency that I had to stop and reflect: What am I supposed to do with this message?
Understanding the Meaning
In numerology and spiritual traditions, repeating ones—11, 1:11, and 11:11—are often seen as signs of spiritual awakening, alignment, and manifestation. They serve as reminders that our thoughts, intentions, and actions are creating our reality. But beyond their meaning, what really matters is how we respond to these signs.
As an artist, I see the world in layers—meanings hidden beneath surfaces, waiting to be uncovered. When these numbers appear, I take them as cues to turn inward, realign with my purpose, and take intentional action in my life and creative practice.
Pause and Reflect
When I see 11:11, I take a deep breath. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and ask: What am I feeling in this moment? These numbers are an invitation to step out of autopilot and check in with myself. Am I feeling aligned with my path? Am I honoring my creative spirit? Sometimes, this moment of stillness reveals exactly what I need to hear.
Refocus My Intentions
Numbers like 1:11 and 11:11 remind me that my thoughts shape my reality. If I’m caught in a spiral of doubt or worry, this is my signal to shift my mindset. Instead of asking “Why isn’t this working?” I ask, What small step can I take today to move forward? This shift in focus keeps me grounded and empowered.
Take Aligned Action
Receiving these signs means nothing if I don’t respond to them. When these numbers appear, I ask: What is one action I can take right now to honor this message? Maybe it’s picking up my sketchbook, reaching out to a friend, or simply choosing to trust myself. These numbers remind me that change happens through small, intentional choices.
Stay Open and Trust the Process
Sometimes, I don’t immediately understand why these numbers appear, and that’s okay. Not every message needs to be deciphered right away. Instead, I trust that I’m being guided, even if the path ahead isn’t fully clear. The key is to remain open—to inspiration, to possibility, to unexpected opportunities.
What’s Your Next Step?
If you’re seeing 11, 1:11, or 11:11, take it as a moment to pause, reflect, and realign. What is the universe asking you to notice? What step, no matter how small, can you take today? These numbers aren’t just signs—they are invitations to step more fully into who you are meant to be.
Have you been seeing these numbers too? How do you respond when they appear? Let’s talk about it! ✨
Shopping Cart Theory: A Test of Character
Have you ever thought about what happens after you unload your groceries? Do you return the shopping cart to its proper place or leave it in the parking lot? This simple decision is the essence of the Shopping Cart Theory, a concept that examines personal responsibility, ethics, and how we engage with the world when no one is watching.
The theory suggests that returning the cart reflects a sense of accountability and care for others, while leaving it behind might show a lack of consideration. It’s a low-stakes, everyday choice—but one that says a lot about our relationship with responsibility, empathy, and community.
This idea resonates deeply with my Emotional Baggage Cart series. Much like the shopping cart, the baggage we carry is often left unattended. Emotional wounds, microaggressions, and societal pressures pile up, and we’re rarely given the tools—or the time—to sort through them. But what happens when we take responsibility for that baggage? When we pause, reflect, and decide what to carry forward and what to leave behind?
In creating these sculptures, I’m exploring how we navigate the invisible loads we carry. Each Emotional Baggage Cart is layered with materials like zip ties, paracord, and vintage fabrics—metaphors for the weight of trauma, resilience, and healing. They’re a reminder that, much like returning a shopping cart, taking the time to confront our emotional baggage requires effort but ultimately makes the world a better place for ourselves and those around us.
Just as the Shopping Cart Theory invites us to consider our small, everyday actions, my Emotional Baggage Cart series asks us to reflect on our inner world. What are we carrying? What do we need to release? And how can our choices—whether in a parking lot or in life—help foster greater empathy and accountability?
By turning responsibility into ritual and art into reflection, we can lighten our loads, honor our stories, and contribute to a more connected, considerate world. After all, it’s not just about the cart—it’s about the journey.
27 Little Fountain’s Saman Tree: My Muse
The moment we swooped down the driveway of 27 Little Fountain in Christiansted, St. Croix, and saw the towering tree by the dry riverbed, I knew I had found our home. The house, a clear gut job from the MLS listing, didn’t matter. The tree called to me, welcoming me, and I instantly felt the property’s unique magic. The Saman tree (Samanea saman), with its vast canopy and enduring presence, holds deep meaning in Caribbean folklore. Rooted in Afro-Caribbean, Indigenous, and Creole traditions, it symbolizes spirituality, healing, and community—offering profound inspiration for my art and the eco-artist residency I am developing here.
1. Ancestral Spirits
In Afro-Caribbean spiritual traditions such as Obeah, Santería, and Vodou, the Saman tree is revered as a sacred home for ancestral spirits and a portal to the spiritual realm. Its roots are believed to bridge the living and the dead, making it a site for offerings, libations, and prayers to honor ancestors and seek their guidance. The branches of our tree, adorned with wild dragon fruit and night-blooming cereus, provide natural offerings to bats and birds alike.
2. Healing Properties
The Saman tree is valued in Caribbean folk medicine for its practical and symbolic healing powers. Traditional healers use its bark and leaves to make teas for colds, fever, and diarrhea, while its resin or sap is applied to skin wounds. This connection to health and vitality reflects a holistic view of nature as a source of sustenance and renewal.
3. Shelter and Protection
The tree’s sprawling canopy provides more than just shade—it creates a communal space and symbolizes safety. Beneath its branches, we’ve hosted bush baths, storytelling sessions, and community gatherings. For farmers, the Saman tree is a sign of good fortune, its shade nourishing crops, enriching soil, and sheltering goats, embodying abundance and protection. Its deep roots seek out and signal underground water sources, further enhancing its significance.
A Living Symbol of Life and Connection
The Saman tree is deeply intertwined with the life I am building, blending the physical and spiritual worlds. Its legacy of shelter, healing, and connection to ancestors inspires reflection on the unseen forces that shape our lives, echoing themes central to my new work.
This enduring tree stands as a testament to a reverence for nature and its ability to sustain, protect, and heal—a reminder of the profound stories rooted in this land itself.
