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Women & Children's University Hospital San Antonio TX
4502 Medical Dr • San Antonio • TX

During my two-week residency at the Women’s & Children’s Hospital, I had the privilege of creating a permanent art installation that engaged hospital staff, patients, and visitors in the creative process. The project aimed to reflect the healing environment of the hospital and create a sense of connection through the shared act of weaving."
The plan for this residency was that the work would stay at the hospital. I had a sketch with me, showing the woven flowers and rivers that would form part of the piece, and I eagerly shared it with everyone. The process of creating something that would become a permanent part of the space where it was created by so many different hands felt satisfying. I wanted the work to reflect the unique healing environment, to be a source of comfort and contemplation for everyone who would pass by.

People were fascinated by the looms—often calling them "machines"—and many shared memories of seeing looms in countries like Mexico, India, Romania, and Iran. These conversations always made me smile, as so many had left family members behind who had woven in their homelands, often a generation ago.
Each day, I moved my small loom to different locations, bringing the weaving process to a wider audience. Patients, visitors, and staff alike were curious about the loom, and many stopped to take pictures as they watched the weaving unfold.

One of my favorite places to visit was the Children’s Emergency Entry, where children came to weave. Because they were so small, they couldn’t reach the pedals, so we made it a team effort. I would tread the loom and pass the shuttle back and forth while they used the beater to push the threads into place. They were so absorbed in the process, often for long stretches of time, until their mothers would remind them it was time to leave.
One nurse had heard about my work at the hospital and came over enthusiastically to learn how to weave. It’s always such a joy for me to see how others get excited about the craft I love so much. Sharing a creative process like this one feels like it helps ground everyone involved, even in the midst of challenging times.

The weekends were a bit different. I’d stay in one spot, working on the flowers on the larger floor loom. Most people who stopped by were attendees of workshops happening in the conference room, but others, who were waiting or visiting loved ones, would drop by to chat or show their children how weaving works. It was a chance for people to slow down, if only for a few minutes, and enjoy something tactile and calming amidst the hustle of hospital life.
I was also near a giraffe that could move, which became a hit with the younger kids. They would giggle when I made it move and beg me to "do it again." It was a lovely reminder that play, even in a hospital, can bring such joy to a child’s day.

The Skyline Entry was a busy spot, with people rushing through, trying to find their way around the hospital. A little later, some would circle back, drawn to the sight of someone weaving. They often stopped to chat, commenting that it was calming to watch the process unfold. I believe the rhythmic motion of the loom, the soft clack of the shuttle, and the steady beat of the beater have a meditative effect on people. There’s something about watching the creation of something from simple threads that invites a moment of peace.
One encounter I’ll never forget was with a family who had been wandering the hospital, passing time. They stopped at my loom, all four of them, curious about what I was doing. After explaining the process, I invited them to give it a try. The 12-year-old girl, Lola, was especially hesitant, looking nervously at the loom and her family. But after some gentle encouragement, she sat down to weave. To my amazement, she took to it effortlessly—her hands moved through the motions with precision, and she even remembered the pattern sequence. She wove for 20 minutes, and when she was done, she stood up, beaming with satisfaction. Her family and I were speechless. It was clear she had a natural talent for weaving. This moment, for me, truly showed the power of creating in the moment—no expectations, no pressures—just the joy of creating something beautiful, however small.
Another memorable moment was my visit to the antepartum unit. Though I had brought the small floor loom, the women there weren’t interested in trying it out. Instead, we pulled out our small handheld wooden frame looms, which allowed for a more relaxed, conversational atmosphere. It was a perfect way to unwind while still enjoying the creative process. The gentle rhythm of weaving, especially on a smaller scale, created space for conversation, reflection, and relaxation.
We used the same looms the next day at J.B. Green Hospital. Over the course of three hours, 10 to 15 people joined in, each of them contributing to the weaving. I’ve always believed that the greatest gift art can offer in a hospital setting is openness and relaxation. There’s no rush, no pressure to "accomplish" anything—just the chance to explore and enjoy the journey together. I could feel how the process itself brought a sense of calm, a quiet contrast to the medical challenges happening just beyond the walls.
Time flew by, and before I knew it, the two weeks were over. I was thrilled to have completed the four water panels for the installation, and it was heartwarming to see how people had followed the progress and stopped by to see the weaving develop. Saying goodbye to so many familiar faces in the last couple of days was bittersweet. The staff, custodians who looked after my looms, all the new weavers who helped bring the piece to life, and everyone who made my stay so memorable—thank you all from the bottom of my heart.
"Months later, I am pleased to see the panels installed and valued by so many. It is remarkable to reflect on how the piece evolved, from individual threads to a collective creation, with so many hands contributing to its development. I hope those who were part of the process, whether through direct involvement or through their support, feel a sense of ownership and connection to the final installation.”

This piece, Surrounding Beauty, draws inspiration from the lifeblood of San Antonio: its rivers and creeks. From the iconic San Antonio River to Medina River, Cibolo Creek, and Salado Creek, these waterways shape the city’s spirit, weaving through its history, culture, and communities.
As a weaver, I sought to reflect this interconnectedness through flowing patterns and textures. The threads echo the currents, with each strand symbolizing the resilience and vitality that rivers and their surrounding ecosystems bring to our lives. The waterway panels were collaboratively woven by a diverse group of individuals—visitors, children, employees, and students of the hospital—each contributing their unique touch to its creation.
Amid these waterways, bursts of color emerge, inspired by the vibrant flora that flourishes along their banks and in nearby gardens—yellow Esperanza, radiant Lantana, delicate pink Buttercup, fiery orange Pride of Barbados, and bold red Salvia, to name a few.
For the flowers, I chose the prominent overshot weaving pattern The Blooming Leaf of Mexico. This centuries-old design, passed down across cultures from Persia to Northern Europe, Spain, Mexico, and beyond, carries a sense of familiarity and tradition.
Installed here at University Women’s Hospital, I hope this work serves as a reminder of the beauty and strength found in nature and community, offering moments of calm and connection to all who pass through.