Debriefing - Part 2 of...

Last night, members of Strands and some husbands/partners met for a lovely Indian dinner in town, and we decided to meet on Wednesday for debriefing. So I'm thinking about what I got out of the Strands/Beginnings experience.

As usual, my weakness is technique. If I can weave better technically, I could spend more time and brainjuice on ideas, concepts and desgin and such. But, oh, it was lovely to weave not colorful things but muted and nuanced Pillars. That is my old 0,0.

As regards design, I came across this definition while drafting an earlier post; "linearity, 5. Compare painterly designating a style in the arts, esp painting, that obtains its effects through line rather than colour or light and in which the edges of forms and planes are sharply defined."

This made a light bulb go on. Six years ago, Randy repeatedly said to make the color changes painterly; he also used many music terms, which I didn't know, and the impression I got from Randy's repeated instructions was, "not how you usually do it." The above definition, and six more years of weaving, make better sense to me in a passive way; I understand the words, and I may be able to look at artworks and point out what's happening, but I'm still not sure how to use this as an active knowledge.

And speaking of using knowledge actively, I'm going to bother Alison to see whether she can shed light on where/why I get stuck at the same place every time while following her process, once her joint exhibition with Dianne settles. I believe understanding it will give me alternatives in designing, even if it may not be my preferred method. But who knows; I'm always changing my mind about things.

The Strands member to go through the most marked change was Pat in my view. Her tapestry style used to be clear and crisp, represented here at the far left, but sometimes even more stark. Her new "River Walk", far right, is a great departure for Pat, in the finished piece and in the design process. I love the nuanced lines and the contrasts of big and small color areas; it is as though her spirit was freed and I still hear her sigh of relief. Click on the picture to see the tiny shapes on the sides of the river; that, to me, represents what's new about Pat's making. It's wonderful she can do both styles, and no doubt in-between ones now, but having said that, my preference is still for her cleaner pieces. And I know I don't have to apologize for my taste. I'll need to ask her to let me photograph some and show you some time.

Me, I liked having monthly show-and-tell sessions because it made me work incrementally, and regularly, not just when it felt right, and I didn't have to aspire to make all my samples pretty, as discussing ugly samples helped me get a better inclination of why I liked what I liked. I observed a broadening of my taste, and, cough cough, a little less cynicism.

I didn't observe any change in the way I worked, I still prefer to make what I see in my head and bring it into my world. It's time-consuming, requires many revisions, but in the end pretty straight forward. Sometimes I enjoyed the powwow about ways of exploring ideas, sometime not. My allegiance is still to loom- and cloth-weaving, and makers engaged in more "free-hand" techniques just don't comprehend the restrictions, and the subsequent joy, of our grids. Often Pat and I would have to reflect on how another member's suggestion would translate to my kind of weaving.

The people/group-dynamics was, ahem, difficult. I wasted a lot of time regurgitating conversations and chewing on Rescue Remedy pastilles. It was roller coaster ride, some meetings leaving me on an unimaginable high, some wanting me to leave the room and curl into a fetal position. I am a person who requires a lot of time and effort quietening voices in my head at best of times, and my honest feeling is, A) I don't need the interruptions, B) I'll gladly forego the highs for stability, and D) oh, but I might miss out on some spectacular joy.

So, I guess that's where I'm at for now.

EDIT: I'm not saying Strands members are particularly difficult people; I have too little experience working in an intimate group, but they are all good people, and I'm probably the most opinionated.

New Name, One Blurb, and Small Progress

We had another meeting on Monday and the group is officially renamed "Strands"; the title of October exhibition stays "Beginnings". Some admin work on catalogue, promo and scheduling have progressed.

My artist statement to go in our fancy catalogue has passed the muster: "I weave (flat) cloth on looms." Some members go into depth explaining concepts, motivation and/or techniques which make for wonderful read; others are at an earlier stage in planning/thinking. Me, I honestly feel this includes everything I wanted to say, though I have to decide if "flat" stays.

"Pillars"
For a while I couldn't think of good ways to explore the mood I wanted to create by way of pattern/draft. I don't doodle, and when I try my hands tend to make the same marks over and over. Trying out drafts on the computer presupposed (in the way I use the software) I've determined the threading first. Neither felt as if I was approaching this anew. Out of nowhere I started to fold paper and cutting shapes out; think paper snowflakes but the paper folded in one direction only so as to vertically repeat the patterns. Here are a small sample of them. 

I've had this notion in my head that I must try "bold" which to me meant angular. I didn't like any of them, and didn't try too many.

I prefer curvy lines, but I learned that even using curvy lines I can create not so rounded shapes. (These jagged lines are what my hands draw when I try to doodle. I think it originated in trying to draw leaves.)

I wasn't sure if I wanted to stagger the motifs, so if all lined up together, they would look like this.

Which brought me back to the very first piece cut out, based on the shape of a chair's legs. Varied, "architectural", curvy but not rounded. Coincidentally, the relative lack of contrast of the blue and the gray is closer to what I will get from the combination of yarns selected; this could be a good omen; this is the direction I'd like to go.

As regards weave structure, after the complexity of the expression I got from the networked twills in the last cotton lot, I decided not even to bother sampling others and go with networked twills. For one thing, a two-shuttle weave in this case is, well, insane. For another, with a simple twill tie-up, it's a cinch to modify and create "darker" and "lighter" versions. (Neither the width of the cloth nor the "design" can easily be made thinner towards the top as easily, i.e. I can't be bothered, so I'm making the value lighter.)

So now, all I need is a draft, but that's easier said than done.

Collaborative Book/"Friends(hip)"
Ronnie suggested at an early stage the notion of "self-portrait" for our individual pieces to go into a collaborative book, and Jo, I think, found in her notes the phrase, "an expression of self". So I've been breezily, (that is, without turning all serious,) considering self-portraits. I've no specific progress here, but if I'm going to make a self-portrait, the "Friends(hip)" piece has to relate to it; it's one of those things I knew and don't have to bother examining. So my plan is to create a colorful interesting piece depicting me on 13 or 14 shafts for the collaborative book. Then, to modify that draft to make it double weave, so on one side of the "Friends(hip)" piece, you can see my self-portrait-based cloth but with bits of your yarns showing though in the weft; from the other side, it's a tapestry-like piece with your yarns creating a simple shape. I'd love a circle or a ring/doughnut, but there is such a variety of width in your yarns and I have no idea how the self-portrait side will be affected, so I'm thinking a rectangle or an angled ring may be more easily achievable. Sane. A two-sided wall-hanging in double weave.

I will have to practice this a whole lot before moving on to the exhibition piece, since I've never tried double weave outside a workshop, except for double width, but I don't think this piece is going to be that big, so fingers crossed.  

"Tube"/"Tent"
On a typical wet-duck moment, I decided I wanted to exhibit a pretty, flat cloth. The stronger I felt this, the less inclined I became to weave a "Tube" just so people can walk into my cloth. I returned to my mind map of what cloths do. Seeing Megg also reminded  me of some of the ideas I had when Megg and I were hoping to have a joint exhibition, where among others I had an idea of a simple tent; just long lengths of cloth hung like a tent but now sewn. Both these ideas are on the back burner now as I'd rather make few nice pieces than many suspect ones. 

"Father, Professor, Patient"
Not gonna happen. I won't say "never",  but it's been taken off the burner now. 

Small Items to Sell
I would like to weave at least one warp of scarves to look like smaller versions of "Pillars" or longer versions of the self-portrait, but realistically, cards made of photos of my pieces may be all I can manage.

And...
Heaven forbid I should come up with a non-weaving idea, but I'm so taken by the thought of clothing being the original purpose of weaving that I have been playing with the idea of buying fabric to make something in 3D; body shapes, relics/artifacts, and the like. The problem is, I don't know if clothing was really the original purpose, and this is entirely an unknown territory I've no idea what's involved.

Misc Thoughts

Group R, which is set to change its name, met this Monday. I'm glad I stuck around because after three horrible (for me) meetings, I had a productive, meaningful one. Not sure what others thought, but I hope they were glad. Pat and Jo are moving in unexpected directions, Ronnie keeps coming up with new ones, and Maria, oh, Maria was sewing a mock up as we spoke, after being unsure of one she did a few days ago. I love watching people work. I haven't changed my plans per se, but I had a breakthrough, a cleansing and letting-go experience, because of our conversation and the company. So much so that though not directly related, on Tuesday morning I played with diluted gesso, store-bought stencils and cereal boxes.

The gesso et al. is due to signing up to Carla Sonheim's Junk Mail Artist Book online course. (The one course she offers I never thought I'd ever sign up for even if it was free!) On the day NZ$ was behaving badly. (It's come back up some more since.) But never mind, I find Carla's videos and instructions soothing and encouraging.

When I was still in Japan, Group R discussed Keri Smith's books/methods of pushing oneself to go beyond one's preconceived boundaries. I love the concept but I still cringe at some of the more "violent" suggestions. I'm conservative like that; I can't deface a perfectly good map, (especially if it's an old one,) or destroy a good book to create something else. But Carla's nudges I can take, even if sometimes I have to view/read, think, contemplate, take a walk, have a nap, and decide to trust Carla not to lead me astray. It helps that many of her suggestions are the same as/similar to what we did in Ronette's drawing course.

I got the 2013 Sketchbook Project sketchbook in the mail. It's new and improved: the pages are slightly fatter/squarer, there is no perforation line on the left side, and the cover is an ordinary brown cardboard. I can't remember how the 2011 one was bound, but I don't think it was with just two staples; they assume many participants want to reconstruct/reconstruct and this will be super easy. Overall, it feels more naked and in need of a lot more TLC. I haven't done anything with it, and I hope magic markers won't bleed, but everything looks good.

Last night I got a whole lotta linen from Mette, and I now have a plan for my "Friendship" piece; I haven't worked our anything specific/practical, but I like my idea. Hummm.... What am I saying? I love my idea.

I took off the navy blue cashmere warp from the last post; I'm not putting it on the warping board one end at a time. I think I did more damage to it rewinding, so I'm going to put it back in a chain, and we're having time out from each other. On the big loom is the purple warp, and I started weaving yesterday. It seems to me this style of wavy/swirly networked twill has been done to death, but I've never done an asymmetrical one so I thought it's a good idea for a short warp.

The first is a wood-grain design; I love the way the color of the cloth changes depending on where I stand. In fact, I took Ben for a walk around the loom last night. 

 A bit of both. The color in the first two pics are pretty accurate on my monitor.

 When I'm weaving, the cloth is even greener than this.

Though this is a blurred pic and the colors off, do you get the sense that from slightly to the back of the beater, the green almost disappears and I can only see bumps of the design.

To my shock horror, I discovered this olive green color has been discontinued in 20/2 width; it's a color I don't much like on its own but discovered in the "Prayers" and the subsequent warps that it does wonders in combinations particularly with purples, pinks and reds. Oh, bother! There is a slightly whiter, slightly yellower green, so I'd have to switch to that eventually.

The second (and last on this warp) maybe be a more bubble-like design.

After these two, I'm dying to put on the last, short, hot pink warp, but I think it's high time the "pillars" warp went on. Before Monday, I still wasn't sure if I wanted to do the October exhibition with the group on account of my feeling so bad after the last meetings; I also contemplated asking the group if I could skip the meetings but just exhibit, (on account of the size of the gallery and mine being among the bigger pieces planned,) but I'm ready to commit to the exhibition this week, and to "sacrifice" the big loom to 20 meters of dusty gray warp. I'm allowing a blindingly colorful Log Cabin warp to go on the four-shaft, though, and will proceed concurrently. At least that's the plan.

Get Out of Your Depth

Group R met again yesterday and it was a short, sharp meeting; we made a whole bunch of administrative decisions, divvied tasks, and updated our time line. All necessary evil, but fun.

We also touched on the issue of artist profiles and statements.  I don't go for long stuff, (though I love to read other artists' long and detailed bios,) so I scribbled down mine.

Profile: Born in Japan, Schooled in the USA, discovered weaving in New Zealand.
Statement: I weave cloth in my basement all hours of the day. 

If asked to add more, I could muse about being run over and defeated by the Concept Truck, but I hope I don't have to sound serious or mature; that is so... 

I had a couple of hours to kill and a free coffee card, so I went to a cafe I don't often go, and this is what was on the wall.

Getting Harder

Group R met at my house today. We're getting down to the nitty gritty of some specific things about the exhibition in October, and things haven't been all smooth sailing. In fact, for the last two months, I've thought the rest of the group would do better if I left the group now, because I seem to be making all kinds of waves. But then I think that way of any group I belong to, and I like the woman involved so I've hung on so far.

The thing is, from my perspective, we need to discuss, as a group, everything, from the size of the posters to how we're going to put our names on the wall besides the work to... everything. And we agree in principle. But in the last two meetings, it appears some of the subjects/items I bring up rub people the wrong way, or these are such mundane things they need not be discussed.

See, contrary to popular believe in the group, I don't have especially strong opinions about most things, but I want to make sure they are discussed. There are some in the group who won't offer opinions unless asked, and it is in these discussions that we find out about each other, and ourselves, and I find it so very... fruitful. I also believe relatively simple things can make a great difference, like whether to use matt or gloss paper to stick on the foam sheets that will carry our names, work titles, material and techniques. But then there are others who feel I don't respect their experiences in exhibitions, or that I don't trust them, and when they corner me, I get flustered and say whatever that comes to my mind, which may not be what I mean. The truth is, I'm more interested in picking their brains and sharing what they've seen or used in the past, so we can choose the best possible option.

I feel like I have to defend every topic/item I want to bring up, and justify my being in the group. And because I had the gallery space in the first place, nobody will ask me to leave. And I must have a terribly way of saying what I mean, because my intentions are incorrectly interrupted more often than not.

Group, eh. Next meeting is the day before my birthday, so I'll stick it out at least until then.

* * * * *

Sampling spoils me. Thank you very much.

End of Monday

The good news is, I have 20cm to go on Tim's scarf, so if I'm hasty I could finish it tomorrow. The bad news is, at this point it looks as if there is more than one scarf left on the warp, so even if I make Mama's Weaver's Scarf a bit long, there might even be one more scarf!! Crikey!

Group R met again today, and we had a focused discussion on the format and size of our one joint piece.  We had a format in mind, but I kind of lead the discussion to explore many formats before we went back to the original idea, and I don't know about the others but I enjoyed the discussion and the immediate, rather than the considered, reaction of the others. I'll tell you more about it when I start working on my part of it.

I reported to the group where I was with the "Professor, Father, Patient" piece. This is not for our Beginnings exhibition but rather for submission for Changing Threads, (photo due Feb 17; work due March 14,) or the National Exhibition in Blenheim, (paperwork due March 1; work due March 12).  And we sort of settled on Option C (the green fade-out option) for the left side of the weft, to show off the weave structure. But the problem is, I need to submit this to Changing Threads, because it's so not the sort of work one submits to the National Exhibition of the the NZ Guild.  I mean, I'm going to include deliberate threading and weaving mistakes, I might pull out warps and wefts after I weave, and who knows what else I'll think of doing. If my best foot forward with a tight weave a few years ago was rejected for "too many technical mistakes", even though the selectors will be different for the Blenheim exhibition, I can imagine a few ladies from the Blenheim having bad palpitations if I send them something that should be in Changing Threads!  So now the plan is for me to keep calm and weave the cashmere scarves on the big loom, and come, say, middle of next week, I think I'm going to have to officially give up on Changing Threads this year and concentrate on the National Exhibition.  (Goodness, that was a long paragraph but can you tell I'm thinking as I type? So if you've never met me in person you can at least imagine how I talk sometimes when I get excited about a project can't you?)

I wanted to submit something to Changing Threads this year, if nothing else, as a hats-off to Ronnie Martin who gives me a lot of advice and who's idea CT was in the first place, but the more I think, the saner it is for me to give it up now and concentrate on weaving something lovely for the National Exhibition. Especially since I am more used to that kind of work.  I'll be (and, well, Ronnie,) the only one not having had work in Changing Threads, but that's OK; I"m not worried about that.

But, the funny thing is, the colorful warp has grown on me, so I still might go downstairs and make the left side of the warp tonight. Just bringing it up to where I can start thinking about that project, whether I actually do it or not.  And it might be something that might go into Beginnings.

Oh, and we didn't do the personal color thing.  The topic came up, but either someone read my blog, or others weren't that interested, or something else.  To tell the truth, if push came to shove, I was going to do it; our group does have that kind of a dynamic, but I'm still relieved we didn't go that way.  We did a bit of non-dominant-hand drawing, blind contours, and some emotions drawing.

Goodness me, does this mean I'm really not going to submit anything to Changing Threads??? I do feel a little sad now.

The Good, The Bad, and The Brilliant

Because of the title of the post, I'm going to be all over, but there we are.

The Good: we had our Group R meeting today, and everybody except Ronnie brought it along.  (Ronnie's is buried in her garden for the time being.) This is Pat's; isn't it pretty? It's on her woven silk, but I love the harmony of the colors she piled on it without intention.

The Bad: the walnut husk dye continues.  I got all this from one ball of charcoal gray wool. I tried photographing this group many times, but the true colors won't show, so you have to trust what I say.  First off it's a darker collection than the photo suggests; the warp chain, far right, you might call black.  The original charcoal gray can be seen in the undyed part in the warp chain, but it was darker in real life. Dyeing turned it into a very soft black, like a warm, balmy evening when you can hear neighbors talking quietly on their porch swing if you listened.  I liked this result so much I made two more skeins to try to get  soft-dark charcoal, (the two in the middle), but they didn't turn as dark as I hoped.  One is slightly darker than the other.

Then I thought I would like to use up the rest of the ball and make two more skeins, fake-Ikat like the warp.  This time I planned the placement and sizes of the retardant carefully and tied much tighter than before; I also wanted the dyed part to be as black as the warp.

Well!!

The gray isn't dark, almost the same as the previous two skeins, depending on the light, and the pigments went right though the cotton ties, even though I used the same cottons, just in different colors.  I'm not disappointed in as much as this makes more sense than the freak success of the warp fake-Ikat, but I am disappointed because I spent so much time preparing and I had wonderful pictures of fake warp- and weft-wise Ikat quietly creating a random and unexpected piece end result.

Darn,

Just in case you were curious, I have a pillowcase full of walnut husks picked up from the ground last autumn and subsequently air-dried.  The pillowcase has sat in hot water since the start of this round of dye experiments, sometime late last year. My dye solution has fundamentally stayed the same, except on two occasions I added more water.  No chemical has been added intentionally, though there must be trace amounts of kitchen detergent, (from washing and preparing the wool,) and cheap white vinegar, (used in the final rinsing of wool; on two occasions, after the final rinse, I've thrown the skeins right back into the urn.)  As I say, mine is the crudest form of dyeing you can imagine. 

The Brilliant. Back to Group R. Changing Threads paperwork is due February 17; National Guild exhibition, March 1. And I can weave only 15 minutes at a time, maybe up to three times a day, and since I have wanted to weave big. I've had an idea for Chanting Threads, (in another post, as I have to gather my thoughts before I can explain,) but had convinced myself it has to go on the same warp as the National Guild piece to save time, and some thinking was required to make the warp work for both. Will I have time for both?

Jo suggested I work into the piece the fact that I can only weave for 15 minutes at a time: weave, advance warp, weave, so there are bands of woven parts and length of warp left unwoven in between.  

That is such and out-there idea for my making that normally I would reject it right away, but I've become quite receptive to ideas thrown around in Group R meetings, and in this instance, it works so well with the theme.  Brilliant. (Say it out loud like a English teenager - think Ron in Harry Potter.) Changing Threads being more conceptual than the National Guild exhibition, I feel OK about me doing this. I just need to work out the details, specifics, including how tight/untidy I want to make the woven parts.  Not just a pretty face, our Jo.  I almost wanted to come straight home and start working out the details.  And now I don't think the two submission pieces need to be on the same warp.  Maybe. 

So, a good day.  I think.

Slowly

After 10 consecutive days of dyeing, I didn't do any today; I was expecting a few deliveries and didn't feel like I can be holed up in the basement. But 10 days of 3-5 skeins daily add up to a pretty good number, and I've been thinking of what all this experience means. Instead of showing you my loot chronologically, I'll show you some interesting, (good and bad) ones.   

This is my fav; the Australian soft yarn, possibly merino.  After Medusa, I was scared so I didn't boil the solution, and I got a softer olive gray, which I either love, (beautifully elegant,) or loath, (very old looking.)  So I boiled the newest skeins twice, but the color reverted to brown!  I love the color, but goodness me, if I have a choice, I'll take nuanced gray every time.  As you can see, I still have quite a bit of the original yarn so I'm keen to dye some more, and the solution still looks strong, but now I'm wondering why I got two lots of gray and then back to brown again, and weather I should add anything to get gray.  The only possible things that went into the dye pot were very diluted soap or vinegar, but they don't correspond to the dye lots which yielded grays. Any suggestions?

These are rather unsubstantial, (i.e. airy but with no substance,) soft merino, about 8-ply, and the first undyed yarn to go into the walnut husk solution. Considering they were undyed, (a little paler than the photo,) they didn't take much color.  Unsubstantial body and tentative dye job mean I need really good quality wool for the warp for these babies.

I've become interested in the chemistry of wool and dyes, though I keep no record so there isn't much to fall back on. Still, I thought the oxidization of the liquid, through many times boiling the solution, was what made the yarns come out gray, but that wasn't the case. Curiouser and curiouser.  I can see myself spending hours and hours of undocumented dyeing if I didn't have a few deadlines with my weaving this year.

* * * * *

Today was one of the hottest days this summer, and at the hottest time of the day, around 3PM, our new stove was delivered. Not that there was much wrong with the old one: it was a 1989 model, (the same year as Ben's beloved red candy car,) and the oven was 10C cooler than what it said, one hob was either off or all the way up, one plastic handle had crumbled, and none of the parts were available any more.  So we didn't have a handle on the wonky hob; big deal.

Sometime after Ben came back from Japan but before my return, the stove did something that angered him, (who is by far the better and more-frequent cook Chez Nakagawa,) so much, he let me know his feeling (!) on Skype.  As far as I was concerned, if need be, we could have had a fancy, dedicated pair of pliers nearby and lived in peace for another ten years, but Ben wanted to check out the Boxing Day sale on Boxing Day, and I was too sick to argue, so when he asked me to pick one, I picked the least fancy one for one reason: it was a smidgen shorter/lower than the rest, nearly the same as the old one. 

I've noticed no amount of dish washing in Mama's kitchen made my arms ache, but here in my kitchen, just a short time makes me almost want to cream and we figured it's the slight difference in the height of the sink.  When my arms were not hurt, I got back pains after spending a long time in the kitchen, but now I get acute shoulder/arm pains, so Ben is going to build me a step thingie, (picture a very wide footrest you might have under your computer desk,) soon.

All was not lost.  As we disconnected the old stove, Sparky Leroy discovered one of the four wires extending from the wall but inside the old stove just about had it.  I still prefer not to throw away things that still work, (the old one is just going to landfill!), and would have liked to have bought a new couch, or a mattress, or a washing machine, but never mind...   All I had to do was to keep the oven on full blast for half an hour afterwards. 

* * * * *  

Group R homework. Dis-like. The directive is too Keri Smith, (other members appear to be smitten by her,) and though I like her blog, I find her approach too violent and extreme; I can imagine it being attractive to young folks, but to me it epitomizes the emphasis on the artist/concept/performance, and not the technique. Whilst I can see accomplished artists discovering interesting triggers from her processes, or simple joy, it's not for me for now, so I defied our rules and have been more intentional.

After leaving my rag outside in the rain for several days, I've been dipping/dunking/leaving it in the dye urn from time to time, and sticking it with the rest of my washing from time to time. I have no attachment to the piece, found nothing interesting, and can't wait to be done with it.  The gesso-ed side retains pigments better, (well, doh!) but not the other side; that's about it.

* * * * *

The irony of the day is, I don't have to cook tonight, because I cooked a whole chicken as a farewell to my old stove last night.

Rainy Thursday

This morning, (OK, almost midday,) I weeded and cleaned my flower pots in the rain, (because I didn't get out earlier).  I was going to start earlier but I had a wee tour of favorite book-selling sites, culling Wish Lists, and a bit of shopping around for weaving and art books.  I ended up buying one detective story from Amazon.uk for 1p - with postage, it cost me 7.01 pounds; I put it on the list while in Japan because its translation got a favorable reviews on my fav book review TV program.  I'm enjoying buying inexpensive used books.  Did I tell you I bought four design books while in Japan for Y1 each, (Y251 including postage,) and another for Y53?

* * * * *

My homework cloth is sitting in the rain.  I've been wondering if I should put a dirty pot on top of it so it will get stained, but that felt not at all like me, so it's just sitting in the rain.   We've been warned that we're going to get terribly lot of rain, so I might have to put something on it so it won't get blown away. 

* * * * *

I found a few things relating to Randy Darwall's I hadn't been aware of: 

The First is a short radio piece from September 2009, on their local (I think) radio station. 

The second is the start of an article in Ornaments magazine from December 2010.  Then I discovered 23 issues of Orgaments magazine can be downloaded for US$3 - there is a Goddess after all!

I would love to take his workshop again sometime, perhaps in 2013.

* * * * *

Here are a couple of websites/pictures I came across in the last couple of days.

AUT is an Auckland tertiary institution.  I was particularly taken by the blue piece at the bottom; I saw a lot of lovely manufactured felt ornaments delicate shapes cut out in Japan and first I thought it was felt, but it's leather!  

The other is about a Moroccan exhibition.  Looking at the thumbnail photos at the bottom, I felt so at peace that weaving is a slow en devour, and that it's OK if I'm not a prolific weaver.

* * * * *

I've been reading "The Artist's Reality: Philosophies of Art" by Mark Rothko.  More accurately, I'm stuck in the long introduction by his son, editor and psychologist Christopher, who was six when Rothko died.  Mark Rothko's words were written in late 1930's/early 1940's before he arrived at his brand of abstraction, and he never finished the book.

A few Rothko links:

Christopher relates a Rome exhibition with the book (in two parts - Sister Kate has two clips as well.)

2008 The Guardian interview with Kate Rothko on the eve of Tate Modern exhibition.

Cashed 2008 The Independent interview where Christopher recalls stories about his father.

Landing

Last post of the day.  With most of my Japan posts done, (I'll show you my loot when I receive my parcel,) part of me wants to get stuck right into some making, part of me still wants to linger in the not-thinking state.  Then, there is the small problem of my arms not being quite right.  Still. 

As I wrote a few days ago, Group R met at the end of November while I was still away.  The minutes, kept for my benefit because we don't them any more, says the meeting was a little low-keyed/spirited:

"We were all feeling low or slow or lethargic for various reasons and the meeting started by acknowledging our low energy levels. We talked about the limitations we place on ourselves as we work at our “art”, the expectations we set, trying to control the outcome, not wanting to fail, and how these factors were negatively influencing our ability to think of creativity as play."

Ergo the homework.  And the journal to go with it. I'm still not keen on the idea, but at lunch on Thursday, everybody else was so excited about their little pieces of cloths, I can't help but join in.  So here goes; it ends, I think, on our next meeting which is scheduled for mid-January.  The other girls will have had seven weeks with their cloth; I for three, but it's worth a try.

The Cloth Homework

December 9, 2011: Received Minutes of the November 28 meeting, which included the homework.  I am so in the Mom's Real Life mode, so not in the airy-fairy, arty-f@rty mode, that I didn't want to take part and waste my life.  But I knew that eventuality I will cave.  

December 17: Discussed the homework with Mama, and that I intended to take something back from Japan.  I had in mind an old piece of cloth stained in the rain which we dyed in the leftover Pomegranate solution, but forgot.

December 22: Group R lunch; with different degrees of initial excitement, Ronnie, Jo, Pat and Maria are enthusiastic about their cloth.  I still couldn't get excited, but when asked by Ronnie whether I'll do it also, I said yes.

December 26: An idea of what to use for the homework popped up in my mind.

December 27: Cut out my square.  This is a piece of pale pink curtain fabric I bought about 18 months ago. Back then, in Ronette's drawing class, we gessoed a whole lot of paper and cloth and drew on them.  I never liked the drawing I did on this piece of fabric, so when I culled three years of drawings in October, I soaked, bleached and washed it several times to see how far back I could "reset" the cloth This is a small piece from it. 

Side A: you can still see the yellow and purple conté I used to draw the figure.  I can't tell how much gesso came off, as the cloth still feels stiff-ish, but then it's thick-ish curtain fabric dunked in water over and over again.

Side B looks closer to the original state, telling me that gesso doesn't so much as soak into the cloth, as sits on top of one side.

I was soaking some plastic kitchen utensils in bleach this afternoon, so the cloth went in there for half an hour; no visible changes. 

I can talk the talk; I'm just not sure if I'm going to learn anything from this at the moment, though don't want to let that become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Holiday Wishes

I made it home on Tuesday and had a lovely Christmas Lunch with Group R members on Thursday, but otherwise been dazed and confused and waking up to some all-too-vivid dreams. Most of all I've been having difficulty readjusting to my excruciatingly cruisey "normal" life, though I have managed to do half a dozen loads of laundry in four days. (Compared to the normal two or three a week.)

The flip side is I've been enjoying the empty-headedness, not planning, not thinking, not worrying, just existing, which, left on my own device, is nearly impossible to achieve.

I've slowly come to realize 2011 is coming to a close, (I really was that busy the last seven weeks,) and feel disappointed my weaving year wasn't as productive as I had planned, due mostly to my trouble with my left arm, (and the cursed mountain of the second lot of firewood,) but then there was the flood in Queensland, the quake in Christchurch, (and a few other places like Chile, Turkey, and China from memory?), the quake/tsunami/nuclear fallout in Japan, and dad's ill health to contend with.  That I am not depressed or crazy-hyper around now should perhaps count as a small achievement. 

The afternoon I came home Mom asked, and at Group R lunch Ronnie asked,  if I was back in the creative mode; I had to think what that is.  I'm not, in as much as I don't have gazillion future plans rushing in my head; luckily, I have a few warps which have been planned a while ago and all that needs doing is weaving them, left arm permitting.

Group R met once while I was away.  (There was a meeting planned a week after I was supposed to return.)  They decided on a small homework over the holiday season, the instructions to which reads:

"Each of us will take a 30-cm square of white or natural-coloured fabric and do whatever we want to it (but nothing overtly artistic) while keeping a journal about the process. It has to remain the same piece at the end of the process. No cutting or stitching. No marks, no pencils, etc. We’ll bring our pieces to the next meeting. Maria has already started and is discussing her progress in her blog.

"Some of the examples of things to do (in addition to the ones listed above) are:
* Wipe the table with it
* Do something to it when you’re angry
* Make prints using cut vegetables
* Drip ink, tea, paint or anything else on it
* Rub it with dirt, handprints, fingerprints
* Tie it with string and swing it at a wall
* Use as a napkin and document your meal
* Chew on it
* Eat colourful candy and lick it"

I was so out of my head and in my then-real life, living from second to second helping Mom and meeting Dad's demands, when I read the instructions I didn't want to waste my life on any airy-fairy (OK, arty-f@rty) homework. But you know I do like to participate, so I feel a square piece of fabric coming up.  Or not.  The others were having fun with it from what they discussed during lunch.     

This is my 2011 summary; not the overlong list of things I did do and longer of what I had intended but didn't manage so hope to do in the coming year. But this was my year. 

And here is a typically Nelson holiday wish to you and yours: Happy Holidays! (More Japan pics coming up incrementally.)

Crikey...

I'm not doing much, but the arms are going crazy. I do the physiotherapist's menu once a day most days, though I suspect that's not enough. I haven't done anything strenuous in a couple of weeks, just minimum housework. What's most aggravating is by now I should know better about my condition and know how to live so the arms can be better faster, but it's not going that way. In the mornings I stare at my To Do lists and wonder what I am capable of doing that day and this has been doing my head in.

A friend has been doing my head in; she works hard at her art, she's good at what she does, but also feels she deserves more recognition and financial rewards, that people should be coming to her, and she's disgruntled; I used to enjoy talking to her a great deal, but after listening to her for most of this year, her sense of entitlement has been doing my head in for a few months. 

I've had a mild virus last week. And a dental emergency the week before that, which led to major money worries for next year. Ironic as the emergency happened the day I figured if we can pay our health/life insurance in April instead of January, we won't be in such a bad shape every summer after we pay our house/contents/car insurance in November. I knew this for ages but never took action. That almost feels immaterial now; I'm shopping around for a different dentist as we don't live anywhere near the right zip code to be his patients anyway. The strangest thing is, I can manage emergency spending of three figures by scrimping and saving; four figures worry me but I can figure out a way to manage when I can approach it calmly, but a five-figure dentist fee? I can only laugh out loud and live in denial. But that's doing my head in.

In case you hadn't heard, there has been a small event talking place in New Zealand, called the Rugby World Cup. We haven't been big fans of rugby (union) for about six, seven years, (players' high salaries, drunken shenanigans, wife-/girl-friend beating and name suppression, etc,) but I've been watching almost all the games in the last two weeks. It's something I can do without using my hands much. But have you heard there is an oil spill on the east coast of the North Island of New Zealand for the last two weeks? Last night's top news item was how the All Blacks celebrated their win (against Wallabies/Australia) in their underwear! And we have an election at the end of November, with a referendum on our voting system; all four choices sound like something you pick up kissing the wrong guy or girl. And yes, all this is doing. My. Head. In.

Group R met yesterday; one member, Judy, left to concentrate on her work so now we are five and that small change made a great difference; five feels much cozier and less formal.  It was good to see everybody, but nothing earth-shattering to report. Changing Threads is going ahead in 2012, but there is no size limits this time.  Submission closes a fortnight before Creative Fibre National Exhibition, but they open on the same night.  And five months after that, Group R's "Beginnings" exhibition opens. No, they're not doing my head in, but I'm extremely frustrated I can't work.

So, I guess, overall, I've been frustrated and angry how the second half of this year has turned out.  Especially since I felt I finally got the hang of weaving more regularly, not just planning and thinking about it.  It appears very often when my weaving life is on an upward swing, something happens to take away the inertia.  So I've kept my head down and tried to stay calm, and have been making up and checking off items on To Do lists; mostly to do with preparing for our upcoming trip, but with art- and weaving-related things making an occasional appearance.  Yeah, I feel a bit sorry for myself, but being a victim doesn't get much done, so I try to keep my head down and bum up most days.

Mom wanted hints on what her students can do on two shafts; my Log Cabin samples fit the bill.  I've also posted about Silver vs. Golden Ratio in my Japanese blog so we can discuss it. 

Group R

The Group met at my house today, and I didn't realize since last meeting, we had an official name; it's "R".  It originated in the story of red threads in Japan, which I totally forgot until I read Elaine Lipson's first blog post, (couldn't find exactly where she told the story,) and members liked my retelling it. "R" also means "are", as we are, and constantly changing as we continue to exist and make.  Something like that.

We discussed some specifics about our October 2012 exhibition, and I've been allowed to organize the after-Opening dinner party!  Woo hoo!

Since Pat brought it up, I showed and talked what I've done with P2P2 so far, which got us stuck into my conundrum of what is weaving vs enhancements/additions, and why I choose to restrict/work-within-the-rules-of loom/cloth weaving.  Ronnie, who teaches design among other things, had lots of pertinent comments and questions for me, but I got lost because I've become set in my ways, more in my thinking than in my practice.  I need to recap, for myself. Because my opinions have taken shape over many years and when we discuss these, I don't always remember why I've come to think one way or another. 

The Making
I'd like to make unadorned cloths to have included in exhibitions; not felted, embroidered, cut up, sewn, quilted, and often not even painted, Ikat-dyed or overdyed.  The naked cloth, as it were.  (But after today's meeting, I have to examine which methods/styles of installation I feel is acceptable as I noticed conflicting/hypocritical ideas I have.)

My Experiences with Exhibition Briefs
The reason why I've come to want to make the naked cloth originated in the very first exhibition brief I requested. It was for a textile art exhibition called something like "Fibre Fantasia", held in Marlborough, New Zealand, from around 2004 or 05, and it stated specifically that submissions could not be just "a woven square or rectangle."  (I do wish I had kept it; it was the year the theme was either "fire" or "flame". Does anyone have it?) I walked around the house my jaw dropped for an entire afternoon. 

Then in the first "Changing Threads" brief, contained something like "using traditional techniques to express concepts in a contemporary manner," which to me meant the same. And I was furious at the first two years of that show as there were many, many pretty pieces, which to me didn't contain a whole heck of a lot of concepts. I could have made something pretty!    

If you follow the briefs strictly, (and I do, because I attended a Convent School, am Japanese, and was raised by strict parents, so I always read the rules to avoid being scolded!) there are very few places "just a woven square or rectangle" can be exhibited except guild exhibitions or one's own. Many exhibitions I've looked into call themselves "textile art" exhibitions, but then they specify in their briefs embroidery, (art) quilt, etc. But now I'm preaching to the choir. 

What I pick up from reading/discussing "art"
Art is more valuable than craft, and what separates the two is "concept" or "intention".  My interpretation of "concept", then, is to do the "design process" taught by whoever teaches them.  I enjoy these, but the "process" never ties in with the sort of cloth I want to make.  Not really.  I like to make pretty cloth.

Wanting to be called an artist is ego, I think.  I value craftsmanship; technical expertise is very important to me, but in the West, "craft", I feel, is viewed so much inferior to art. Whereas I come from a place where craft is more respected than non-utilitarian art. 

Additionally
I've talked about the contempt I feel about my work after it's done in the past.  I've often wondered if it's more artist-ly to feel less detached from one makes; I don't think I ever feel vulnerable about showing what I make, because I'm never "putting myself out there", just showing you what I made. And instead, I see all the flaws in my work, as well as the good bits, and feel slightly disgusted about the pieces and therefore my incompetence.  I'd like to feel a little more ... involved, or even sentimental (?) about what I make.  And I've been told by many that this feeling would emerge from the design process.   

Ronnie's Observations
1. Is there something I want to say/express through my pieces? If so, does that come through my finished design/piece?
2. Perhaps I'm more into the making and not so much in the expression. Why do I think that's not as valid?
3. Looking at the material I accumulated so far for P2P2, there is a gap or a skip, and I need to bridge the gap.

My Response for Now
1. No, I guess I have nothing to say through my pieces.  I just want to make pretty cloth.
2. Never thought of it that way.  My ego now says "expression" is art, being into the making is "craft"; if this is the case, it's my ego getting in the way; I want to be in the top class, not a second- or third-class citizen. And then theres is the small matter of the time/labor required to weave, which makes me feel weaving isn't just mass-producing, say, coffee mugs from the same mold, and all my pieces are one-offs. 
3. This is a point I didn't understand but we ran out of time so I couldn't find out more.  If she's observing where my design process ends and where my weaving starts, yes, there is a big gap, but this wasn't what she was responding to, so I need to find out more.

* * * * *

The matter of the fiber artist who felt excluded was discussed as well, and I find it strange to find myself on the "excluding" side as one of the original three who proposed starting the group.  Because I thought I was always trying to be as inclusive as possible.  Obviously, effectively, not so in this case.  

* * * * *

I'm so glad we finally have a name, which they tell me we had since the last meeting.  Anyway, "The Group" is the name of a very famous group of painters (and possibly sculptors) from before WWII in Christchurch/Canterbury, and I never intended to copy or liken us to them, but it was the only name I could think of until we had something.  Phew. 

Origins

*** This is a long, wordy post, and you have read most of my thoughts in different posts over the last two and a half years. You've been warned. ***

I spoke with a fiber artist, who was sad she was not invited to join The Group.  She's active, successful, (she's won big prizes in the last few years,) and has good connections, (including knowing all of us.)  If you look at the names in our group, it's strange see hers omitted, and even stranger to see mine included, but more on this later.

I met her 11 years ago, but it's only recently I discovered she weaves, too, and I've never had a meaningful conversation until very recently. To me, she's been a blur of colors waving, hello-ing, and promising to get together sometime soon. I probably know her work better than her person. So, I've been trying to remember why she wasn't included.

* * * * *

In 2008, Lloyd of Arts Council Nelson told me there will be a new textile award show; later that year, I got the brief for the very first Changing Threads, in which I discovered to my dismay weaving had been reduced to a mere traditional technique. When the show opened, in March 2009 from memory, I was furious because a lot of stuff in the exhibition had nothing to do with concepts, repeatedly requested in the brief.  And that's when I assembled the Textile Lunch group.  I figured these ex-art-teachers, gallery staff, and art historian can tell me what concepts are all about, and how I can weave them into my work.  When I started the Lunches, I had in mind gradually expanding the group, to include the artist in question among others.  But the lunches dwindled and eventually met its natural demise, so in December 2010, I planned a party to officially thank fellow Lunchers.

Meanwhile, around March 2010, I helped hang the second Changing Threads and I was beside myself because only a tiny fraction of the selection met the brief. This is when I resolved to hold an exhibition of unadulterated, unenhanced handwoven stuff; the title "What You See is What You Get" was meant as an in-your-face rebuttal to the pretension that was Changing Threads.      

The gathering was planned for January 2011, and I kept inviting more and more textile women. I thought I had explained in my invite the gathering was to lament/celebrate the demise of the Lunchers, but some understood it to mean I was starting a new group.  This far removed, I can't remember if that was my intention on the occasion, but I won't deny I'm always interested in a forward-looking gathering. The day arrived but that morning I discovered that among the 15-20 invited, only Jo and Pat and one other could come.  So the evening gathering was canceled.

Jo, Pat and I met later with the express purpose of considering starting a group.  I was looking for a study group because I can't work with others, and I didn't want to.  After a lengthy discussion, we agreed a group working towards a joint exhibition might work best: we would have deadlines, a platform to show what we've learned, and a purpose for learning and helping each other solve problems. We weren't aiming to learn a specific technique together, (unless it just happened that way,) we weren't aiming to collectively, (unless some people wanted to work that way,) but we would support and encourage each other and create an environment where we could stimulate each other's making.    

The three of us were to nominate one person each to invite to the group.   Said artist's name came up, too, but she is known to be always in a rush, and already we sensed our group was going to spend a lot of time discussing things to our hearts' content, working slowly and carefully, to build something special, and she might introduce a different way of participating. Nobody ever proposed to omit her; nobody ever thought her work wasn't "up to scratch" for where we were aiming.  At some point, Jo and Pat came up with three must-have names; they have a many friends in common, especially in the eco dye circle, and she would have been among them.  By then, I was desperate to nominate a non-eco-dye person.

It turned out my nominee doesn't join groups, so the group started with the six members, five belonging in varying degrees to the eco dye circle; one being Ronnie, the author of the Changing Threads brief and my symbolic nemesis; me being the only one, besides Ronnie the organizer, who never submitted work in Changing Threads, let alone win big prizes.  At our first meeting, I told the background of how and why I came to sit among them, and repeated several times I didn't want to join a group whose only concern was conceptual work.  We never asked Ronnie, Maria or Judy if they wanted to invite anyone else, but I think we agreed six was about the right number.  

As you know the group has worked surprisingly well thus far, and though we come from very diverse backgrounds, I think there is a lot of unspoken but common understanding on how and where we want to go.  Someone from outside Nelson wanted to join, and it was easy to decline the request on the basis we are new and we want to find out if we can work together.  We want to stay with the original six until we have our first exhibition. Then we might consider other members, a two-tier system, or something else entirely.  Things seem to progress organically in this group; decisions are made quickly or slowly, but it appears so easy to get general consensus.  The dynamic is fun to watch.

Because I invited everybody to my house first, because I gave up my spot at the Refinery, I understand it's sometimes described as my group, but when we meet, no one member has more say over others, and it feels as if The Group has a life of its own.  That's also fun to watch.    

* * * * *

I felt so sad for the artist, my friend, that she felt she's been excluded.  And in the last few months as I've gotten to know her better, I know she doesn't deserves this hurt.

But now that I've reminded myself of how The Group came to be, I'm glad she's not among us.  On average, the group meets between four to five hours at a time, discussing the nuances of each word we might use, and we thoroughly enjoy the discourse.  I'm enjoying the slow and deliberate progress and the sharing of view points and feelings.  I can imagine she might find it all a waste of time, and her busy-ness would have been distracting to the rest of us.

I wasn't sure whether I should post this, but I needed to write it down to understand how it happened.  And now I know, I don't need to apologize for the way things happened, and I don't need to make excuses.  But I hope it will help lessen my feeling of guilt a bit.

I thought to email her this "information", then to write her a letter, but I think I'll get together for coffee and cake when she can spare me some time.  I'll have my time line handy, but will refer to it only if it seems appropriate; that's the least imposing way I can think of.  I don't want to shove words down her throat.

And if you ever felt you've been excluded from something, or if you've been thinking of starting or joining a group, keep this somewhere at the back of your mind: sometimes things happen organically, without malice, without intentions, and that's really all there is to it.  Trust me, because I would never have believed it had I not found myself on this side of the story, and I'm the biggest conspiracy theorist there is.

It's Wednesday and... / End of WYSIWYG for Now

So far, I've had a really busy week.  Almost like a normal working person; almost.

The Group met for the third time on Monday.  We almost decided on a name, and a "motto" of sorts.  We're going to try to see how they roll on our tongues. The group consists of six members, and I got their consent to talk about them and what we do a little bit. 

There's me, of course.  Then Pat, formerly known as a tapestry weaver, but now her thing is Ikat.  She's from the US and her husband is an accomplished woodworker so she has quite a bit of knowledge there, too.  She travels extensively and has visited interesting textile spots; she's also the one working so hard to get me a good American outlet.

Jo is the only one who has made an appearance on Unravelling, organized the stash sale, and took part in the Yoshiko Wada workshop with me.  Her interest is in sustainable material garments and eco dye, but her garments have deeply researched health connotations.  Her partner is a painter, so Jo knows about the art establishment as well.  (She is not the Jo who used to be in the same drawing class.) Jo and her partner are from Australia. 

Then there is Ronnie, who organized of the Changing Threads awards/exhibitions for the last three years.  You could say it's her exhibition briefs that's been making me go crazy, questioning art vs craft vs technique, and that thing called concept; establishing the Textile Lunchers, and prompting me to set up WYSIWYG, my intended solo exhibition of cloth with no embellishment, creative intents nor concepts.  Ronnie herself  will do anything with textiles; I've known of her felted garments, but her expression now come from art quilt.  I think that's the name.  She's also taught from kindy to high school, I think. Ronnie is our token Kiwi.

Judy is English, and I believe she used to teach tertiary level art, but now primary school children.  I don't know how to describe her work; some are like giant mobiles, some are like sculptures using textiles, but she is also interested in sustainable material and eco dye. Her husband is also a woodworker.

Maria is from Finland, and has extensive background in garment and pattern making, among other things.  In Yoshiko Wada workshop, she whipped up a garment pattern faster than I might decide on an EPI, and completed an shibori-shrunk overdress.  She is also interested in the sustainable/eco angle.  She is "fibrefinger" on Ravelry. 

I made a big decision sometime last week and told the group on Monday: the big gallery I reserved for a second solo in October 2012, I decided to give it up for the group.  So, that's the end of WYSIWYG for now.  Of course I will still take part, and in fact I have first dibs (right) to how and where to hang one of my projects in the gallery.

The group dynamics feel right, we don't agree on everything but there is a nice and easy way of discussing and letting time pass so we can reach an agreement.  The collective technical knowledge is fantastic and there is a lot  of good will.  And it will be good for Nelson to be seen to have a robust and professional textile group.  I can always plan another solo if I still want to do what I had planned, but I decided to go with my gut feeling.  And this just felt right.  We have a working title and a theme for the exhibition already.

Three went to art school; two have corporate experiences; one was a mental health professional.  We have a good mix.  It was especially nice to get nods of approval from the art school/teacher group about my recent foray into 3D without a destination in mind.

We've also been doing creative exercises just for fun. I led the group this month and we did 2D and 3D paper sculpture, similar to what I did for Ali a year ago.  I was nervous leading this activity, trying to second guess what the art school half thought, (I have to stop thinking like this!), but it appears we all had fun things without knowing/having control.  I wanted to do something that didn't include drawing, you see, as some of us still feel uneasy about it. 

I came home and Maria send me a couple of links to look at.  They are arty, and my first instinct was to say, no, I want to place emphasis on the cloth, on the technique of weaving, on the unembellished, but, I'm trying not to say no, to keep my mind open, to listen to all advice.

Next meeting, late August, my place.  I'm worried about my garden/house/mess, because so far, the members'  houses have been absolutely amazingly tidy, clean and beautiful.  Our place doesn't even have nice chairs...

* * * * *

I've been asked to tag posts relating to The Group. I'll give it ago.  All posts relating to the 2012 exhibition, previously labeled "WYSIWYG" will be labeled "Beginning" from now on.

* * * * *

When Jo gave me a ride home, she told me Jay at the Red was having a heck of a time packing up the gallery, and that Jo was helping her on Tuesday.  So on Tuesday, Ronnie and I joined in.  I helped take out nails, blue/gray tack, labels and stickers off the wall, and packaging up some of the art work.  Today I went back and sorted her greeting cards and boxed them up.  The new owners will continue to sell cards, but I wanted to make it easier for them to count the stock, as I know how complicated the cards got when I worked there.  Since Jay started working at 5AM this morning, she wanted to call quits early, and that's why I've been able to blog today.  (Yesterday I had sensory overload and felt quite crazy after I came home.)  Tomorrow we'll vacate the back store rooms, and probably have another short day.  I'll go as long as she can make use of my help, but won't go if she doesn't want me; I so enjoy being in Red as it is, if I'm not gainfully put to use, I talk too much.

* * * * *

Kudos to Dot.  She solved a conundrum of mine.  She suggested I post good photos and little texts on my website, the way we've been doing on Nelson Daily Photo for the last five years.  Now, that is doable, I can do that, and of course, why didn't I think of it, but I am so grateful she thought of it!  I'm off to set that up now.

The Group and a Conundrum / Spinning, Knitting and Colors / Garden

As I mentioned in the previous post, The Group met for the second time last Monday.  We spent an awfully long time discussing the group name, all of us aware it wasn't just the name under consideration, but fine-tuning what we wanted to do as a group and as individuals, and testing the group dynamics.  We couldn't decide on our name, but I think we all felt a lovely sensation of being in an encouraging, sharing, and creative environment.  We disagreed on a few things, and lo and behold, we came out happier at the other end of discussing our disagreements; I've never been in an environment like this.  For the first time that I could remember, I could voice my disagreements without feeling I wasn't playing nicely.  This was very liberating.

One of the things we discussed at some length was the diversity of interpretation and reaction to words: some words that brought surprising reactions were: sisterhood, boundary, and marks.

Private galleries in Nelson are closing down or being sold left and right, limiting the options for prospective group exhibition venues.  In fact, Refinery is the only one we could quite easily sign up for at the moment, but they are pretty much booked until the end of 2012, except an iffy two weeks here and a definitely one week there.  (From memory, they used to allow bookings in three-week blocks, but they're not doing this any more.) Ergo my little conundrum, whether to give my slot to the group.  And even though I've been working on WYSIWYG for 15 months now, I've really no preference or prejudices about going solo or group.  None.  What so ever.  As far as I'm concerned, for now, I can go either way and really enjoy the process and have a pretty descent exhibition.  Isn't this... novel?  Though I almost wished I had an inclination one way or another. 

* * * * *

I have been weaving the hard slog, I mean, hearts, blanket; I have enough warp left to weave a narrow but long-enough blanket for a single bed, so I might as well go for it.

For my own entertainment, I've been spinning and knitting. This last project was supposed to be a funny warm hat for my mother, but I think it's too small even for her small head, and it's not thick and warm in the way I envisioned.

 

 (This hat is much redder than either pictures: I several versions but my eyes aren't cooperating this morning, and neither portray the autumnal, harvest feel of this hat. The darkest red part is closer to cherry red. )

This is the first time I spun with a smidgen of design in mind; it was to be in gradation with the lightest oranges in the middle, but when I made the balls I wound them so the red bits needed to be knitted first on both balls, instead of them coming at the top and the bottom of the hat.    

I'd like to learn to card better, and looking at two video clips which Dot recommended, I have an idea of how to improve this.  I don't mind my yarn being inconsistent in width, in fact I love knitting with extremely slubby yarns, but because I have very little control, I've been creating more threads than yarns, and because I only have one set of knitting needles with which I can knit a circle, these threads are woefully inadequate.

The biggest reason for my lack of control is my speed.  I realized when I spin, I try to treadle/pedal as fast as I can; it's as if another, more athletic part of me takes over, and it's a completely different part of me than the one trying to spin with a hint of design in mind. I've tried slowing down my foot/leg, and being unsuccessful, I tried readjusting the various knobs to slow things down, but I haven't been able to decide what is the correct speed. 

I have considered taking a correspondence course on spinning through our national guild; I thought of the course a couple of times in the decade but it was never high on my list.  I'm brought back the idea to the back of the back burner, again, because I would like to be a better spinner, but by better spinner, I don't know what I mean and I don't know what kind of a yarn makes me happy.  I suspect, though, spinning could potentially introduce another "style' in my weaving repertoire - texture.     

But then there is my tendency to turn everything fun into difficult tasks when I want to be better at it.  Drawing is so far the only thing in my life I feel comfortable just doing, and never worrying if I'm good or if I've improved.  For now, spinning (and knitting) has been great fun, and because of the speed of my treadling, at time it's almost thrilling just trying to keep up with the speed without loosing the end of the yarn.  I'll keep the spinning course at the back of the back burner for now and attempting more crazy spinning.  Ditto with the knitting; no gauge, no measuring, no sampling. 

(Now, close your eyes and imagine a Punch or The New Yorker style cartoon of a little old lady whose leg is treading so quickly she's trying to keep up spinning at ultra high speed!  She cannot but spin in orange, do you agree?) 

* * * * *

I was surprised I carded, spun and knitted the latest hat in three or four days. My group members thought I was underestimating their work when I mentioned, (apparently, once again,) how slow weaving is.  But in my case, weaving does seem to be the slowest thing I do.

Oh, the things you achieve while watching the telly in the evenings! I think I need my Rigid Heddle to live in the living room. But next, I think I'll try a slightly more intentionally-designed hat for Mom.

So far, I've only ever knitted orange things, and the next hat will be in large part orange again.  But I am spinning some mostly white stuff, too; these yarns may finally go into my weaving, fingers crossed.  

* * * * *

I've been gardening quite a bit, mostly weeding and trimming, but before each rain, I've also been taking things out of pots and putting them into the ground.  The place still looks pretty shabby, but I now have pockets of tidied areas. And mounds of weed pulled but not cleared everywhere. I have a system, but my body defies system and logic some days, and I'm allowing even this, because some work is always better than none.

Signs of Life

I don't sit around staring sat photos all day, just in case you were wondering. As a matter of fact, I've been good about turning the computer off, and get this, tidying the garden in shorter spurts, so I utilize the rest of the day better, rather than being exhausted and sitting in front of the fire.

Yesterday we had the second meeting of The Group (name undecided), which I'll reflect on and post about a bit later. Suffice is to say, things are progressing nicely. 


But Pat told me to hurry up and either weave or cut off the hearts blanket warp, because I haven't wanted to weave it so I don't even go downstairs, which has halted my concentrated weaving period, and among other things, defeats the purpose of my taking a term off of drawing. Touché!


Meanwhile, changes are afoot. The Red Gallery has been sold (to two Nelson women,) and Jay Farnsworth will finish up at the end of June. It's an end of an era for her, Red, and me, but I'm happy for her as she is ready for the next stage in her life.  I will miss my "drop in" center, for sure, but hope to stay in touch in other ways.

Now I'm off for a couple of hours in the garden.

The Group

We met for the first time the Sunday after we came back from Blenheim the first time. That's a good 18 days ago, and I can't recall details, but this is what happened.

One person pulled out, so six met.  We went around the table first explaining our main techniques, (with a bit of Show & Tell,) what we hoped to get out of a group, and importantly what we didn't want to from a group. Our common consensus was a) we looked for a comfortable but serious place for critiquing, discussing the processes and alternative ways of looking/thinking/problem solving, and b) we didn't want a technique-specific workshop, (but with the possibility for subgroups,) nor an excuse for a coffee group.  By the time we were halfway around the table, we were ready to have a group.

Since it was not to be a study group, we needed a purpose/goal, and we began discussing a joint exhibition. We had different ideas about the location and scale, but agreed that instead of jumping hastily into one, we wanted time to work on the details of the exhibition as well as on our respective work.

Some were keen to write a "statement" which defined/clarified our raison d'etre and goal/s, and pick a name for the group; others with corporate experience felt an official statement was a little OTT, but we had a good time throwing out words to fine-tune our understanding, and observe the group dynamics.

You know me; I don't play nice with other children.  So I am a little apprehensive about working as a member of a group, but the "making" will be individual if we so choose, and I am quietly excited about the prospect of working with these women.  Having spoken to two since, I think everybody else is, too.

Boy, this hasn't been much of a recap; sorry.  To make up for it, I'll put a link to "62 Group" which one member thought we should model ourselves after.  Having communicated with the group's representative, the key to the longevity of the group is being vigilant/strenuous (my words) about selecting only high-standard work.  So I need to up my game big time to play with the big girls now.

We meet next in late May.