Warp #4

After posting that I finished weaving my last piece, I went downstairs and hung five pieces to try to name them while tidying up the studio. I like to look at what I make from a distance and from all directions instead of standing in front and looking straight at it. I came up with a great name for #6, and I was becoming increasing pleased with that particular piece.

Now those of you who have been in "art" for any length of time may laugh at the naivety of this novice planning an Exhibit(ion) and blogging about it, and you are perfectly entitled to, really loudly, but here's the truth.

I have ranted about "my" kind of cloth, and I had thought one of the prerequisites was not mixing hues and not having a big gap in the values. Well it's true to a certain degree, but that's much too simplistic because #6 is mid-blue warp with light-brown (camel) weft. With this, it's the weave I like, and it's one of my doodle weaves. I'll explain about that when I show you #5 and #6, but I love the quirkiness, the unpredictable-(to-me)-ness and the contrast within the cloth.

What I'm trying to say is, I no longer know what I like about "my" cloth, AND I really don't like #4, AND I need to show at least one more doodle piece. So with 10 days to go, by 7PM, I was tying yet another warp.

I'm going to weave one more piece. I feel disjointed like a Picasso portrait. I hope I can make it in time.

I Just Took The Last Piece Off The Loom

I just took Candidate #6 off the loom, and I don't know what I'm feeling. I feel relieved, of course, and a bit sad that the weaving part is over, that I won't be improving on the Exhibit(ion)'s contents any more.

Initially I had hoped to weave between seven and nine or ten pieces, and choose maybe six best ones to put in the Exhibit(ion). Somewhere between Candidates #3 and #4, when I was weaving two pieces a week, I started to feel a prelude to pain on my right wrist, left shoulder and neck. So, although I could have continued that pace, or at least could have easily put on another warp, I deliberately slowed down and aimed to finish six pieces. And that's what I've done.

I also decided to add a piece called "Paua", which I wove in late 2005. "Paua" is Abalone in our indigenous Maori language, so it's from the sea. I didn't need this piece to make up the number, but I feel a little sad I worked so hard to incorporate literal images of "Sea, Sand and Sky", that I might have sacrificed incorporating elegance and sohopistication that I aim to include in my cloth. "Paua" makes up for it, in that this is the kind of cloth I weave, and this is the best I've woven so far.

My first and most daunting thought about the preparation for the Exhibit(ion) is that weaving mere six shawls and a bit of sampling did not make any visible dent to my stash. ANY. I had hoped to clean out my stash room, maybe add shelves, bring in a small desk, repaint the room, and start the year of apprenticeship with a really big bang by making my stash room more of an art/design room rather than storage space. Well, that's not going to happen. In fact, the lesson has been that I could probably weave three to four commission-type shawls a month if I worked really hard, in addition to the smaller scarves for the gallery, and if I did that, I'm good for the next 10-15 years stash-wise. (Though after 7 or 8 years, the color and texture combination might become a little... eccentric.)

I still need to fringe, wash, press, dry and tidy the last two shawls. But they are no longer candidates, and I have to start thinking of naming them.

The Too Skinny Fringes

When I finished Candidate #4, the fringes were too skinny and light, so they didn't fall/drape/hang attractively. Sue recommended that I make then half the length, which I did last night, and here is the before/after photo. Because the pattern is a small-elements-all-over type, even though the shorter fringes change mood of the shawl, the fringes don't look out of balance and hang nicely.

Meet Fay

I "met" Fay though Cross Country Weavers, a NZ-wide group of weavers who make small samples and exchange them once a year; at least she remembered my name, probably because I finally sent out my samples six months after the recommended due date, after my tendonitis. So when we were both in Randy's workshop in October, she introduced herself. Fay and Husband have been holidaying at Kaiteriteri Beach north of here, and dropped by yesterday afternoon, and we had great fun talking about weaving and Randy's workshop.

Here's one of the samples she sent me in the 05/06 exchange. You need to click and enlarge to appreciate the full effect of this fine sample.

The sample was inspired by her daughter's visit to Brunei; it's a name draft using "Brunei Darussalam"; 30 EPI, 16/2 cotton in warp and weft with 2-strand gold threads for the pattern.

Fay's already started on the 06/07 samples, but I'm afraid I'm going to be late again - but not six months.

My House Is One Big To Do List / Social Flower

I haven't cleaned my house properly for a while. I have lots of things partially done or have full intention of doing, and they are left where I can see them so I don't forget. Altering Ben's pants is a big one; fringing/washing non-Exhibit(ion) pieces are another. If I walk from one room to the next, I see what I need to do after the Exhibit(ion) starts and before my parents come, so the whole house has become a big 3D To Do list. On the one hand, I can't stand it; on the other, I don't even see them any more.

The bonus is everybody knows I'm home working busily, so everybody is dropping by to say hello. I haven't had this busy a social life since my friend Trish moved to Wellington (that's coming up 3 1/2 years now) or even before that. And I'm loving it. I'm a social flower, rather than a social butterfly. I've been enjoying these visits because I have a legitimate reason not to have to be a tidy or a good hostess; I don't worry about my garden (which tends to be ultra-naturalistic at the best of times) or the house (oh, mind that step, that piece has pins in it still) or having nice bickies and regular, trim, AND soy milk for tea/coffee.

This is just great! If you want to see a relaxed me, now is the time to come over.

Martin Made Me Do It

It started with a short email to The Leader, a weekly, free, local newspaper. Martin last year said it would be nice to get something written up about the Exhibit(ion) and the blog; he had to dictate nearly the entire the email I should send, to persuade me to do it. Late Sunday night, I checked my too-hard box, and decided to work on this, and so I did.

Like the diligent secretary that I used to be, I rang this chap yesterday, and he said he'd come over today. I felt like a kid before her first day at Kindy: I rang Martin and Julia and, umm, asked how to be interviewed. I then rang back the chap and asked for a list of questions, and promptly prepared a 2-page multi-level bullet list of answers. Then I frantically cleaned my desk (I put everything on the floor) and the looms' surrounds downstairs.
Matt Lawrey came right on time. He was a tea man, not a coffee man. I hope I answered the questions accurately; I can go off in all directions when I'm talking, and I don't even remember half of what I said, and looking at the notes I forgot to tell him at least one crucial point. I was trying to be cautious by sticking to my notes, but guarded is not my forte. Note to self: if I take the time to make a list, use it; otherwise, don't bother.

But not so fast, Matt. I got him to tell me what he looks for in an interview with artists. And here are some points he made:

He respects artists for putting their souls on the wall/screen or in the gallery because it's a brave act. And artists celebrate values that are not easily converted to dollars and cents.

Good art speaks about people, the world and the environment. When writing, he looks for a new angle to present the works, via. the artist's background, motivation, and factors outside the physical work. The article needs be interesting to the readers, and he has had great interviews where he wasn't expecting them.

By the way, if you go to my web site, and to the Unravelling section, did you know that you can read "How I Make a Shawl" and "Exhibit 2007" series in a more logical progression? It makes the reading a tad more logical, if you are so-inclined.

12 days to go, Team.

(Here's another post relating to this interview.)

I'm Sitting In The Corner Staring At The Wall

Can you believe I had an invalid email address on the very first (home) page of my web site, immediately following "For catering purposes, if you are interested, please contact me at", for the last several months, and went on to copy it and emailed it to several organizations? A highly respected senior weaver had to ring me up to let me know!!!! I have no word for it. Careless is too... kind.

In unison, people: "A M A T E U R !!!"

Later I found out I asked the newspaper to put the announcement about my Exhibit(ion) in their late Feb/mid March issues; it takes place late Jan/mid Feb. What do I need now? A stiff drink? a shot in the arm? or brain transplant.

Worried about Not Worrying

I touched base with three people today: Martin at Arts Marketing to go over promotion and to see if I was forgetting anything else; Mr Harwood at Arts Council to pay my NZ$60 for the hire of the gallery, and Jay at The Red to touch base and ask her to look over my pieces on the Friday before installation.

My conversation with Jay went something like this:
Jay: "So how is everything progressing?"
Meg: "Great..."
Jay: "And?????"
Meg: "Well, it's come down to worrying about the baking for the Weaver's Hour on the 31st."
Jay: "And you're worried because you've nothing much more to worry about! Stop it!"

Don't get me wrong, I still have 8 pages of A5-size (1/2 of Letter-size) TO DO lists, reminders, and ideas to ponder and decisions to make. But I have the lists, I need to do the tasks in there, and check them off the list.

If I really tried, I could put on another warp, but I'm starting to feel the effects on my right wrist and neck, so I won't go all gun-ho about it. If it happens, it happens.

Right now I'm printing 120 postcard/invitations for starters. My Exhibit(ion) opens two weeks from today; in fact, this time two weeks from now, I'll have finished Day 1.

I Am Not Kidding

I've been invited to a meeting of Marlborough Weavers, an active weaving group in and around Picton and Blenheim about 90 minutes east (and over the mountain) of Nelson. That's the group that hosted the first ever weaving workshop I attended, my coming out, in 2001, and so it as been surrogate guild ever since, but I never went to their regular meetings because of confidence/commitment issues, more than the logistical/transport problem. It's been made easier, among other reasons, because Sue wants to go also, so there's her apron strings to hang on to this time.

This next meeting date moved around a bit, and I couldn't quite commit myself because it's going to be sometime in the week preceding the opening of my Exhibit(ion). And this group is usually very organized, so it came as a surprise, until I found out why.

It's going to be held at one of the members' house, and she had to check with her husband about the sheep movement.

I don't really know the business (?) of raising sheep, but if you run a farm, I realize once again, life doesn't always fit nicely with the printed calendar. It reminded me of what a towny weaver I am, because for now, I buy my yarns dyed. I know how to spin, but haven't spun to weave this century; and promise to start dyeing my yarns this year, but thus far I've been a pure consumer-weaver.

I also chuckles remembering an email I received from weaver Pam a few years ago. Her email started, "We are kidding," and went on to talk about the weather and her goats. What??? Goats! Kidding...

I love living in New Zealand. Kiwis (the human kind) keep me on toes, or in tow. It's easier to get back to the beginning of things in this place.

Heavy Artillery

The gallery looks a like an empty classroom, which is not a problem with many of the exhibit(ion)s, but for mine I wanted to make it just a touch more personal, just a little more inviting so people would want to stay a just while longer. And because I love couches, I went to look at some that I could hire for three weeks. It turns out if I hired a couch, or even a love seat, THAT would have turned into the main exhibit in the space available. So I hired two lounge chairs (single seats). They didn't have the exact piece in the office, but they are the same style and color as the couch below. I don't have the photo of the exact space they are going, but imagine two navy blue single-seater in each corner of the room directly opposite the wall above. I'm pretty confident it's going to work nicely. If you don't get the picture, I'll have to post you one when it's set up, won't I?

Lovely Kath Bee came over yesterday morning, and we had a cup of tea and chocolate from Finland. (Amazing milk chocs, by the way!) Kath offered to bring friends and sing at my opening, and I was ever so grateful, but we discussed the various options for dates, style of the party, booz/foods and other offerings, and in the end, I decided not to have an opening at all. It's been on my mind for a while, but I don't like art openings myself, and my show starts on the last day of a three-day weekend, and a Monday to boot, so Kath though there's wouldn't be too many people in town that night anyway. I'm so relieved. Instead, I've said all along I'll stay open until 6 or 7PM on Fridays, when the town has its usual late night shopping anyway. She still might organize her friends into busking at the entrance of the gallery and direct the traffic my way.

Kath has turned out to be a major contributor in planning and fine-tuning my Exhibit(ion) all along; she's worth more than her weight in Finnish milk chocolate.