Confession

Ben was supposed to have last and this weeks off. His work canceled last week's holiday so we looked forward to this week. In an uncharacteristically sober way. Ben because he''s been insanely busy these last nine months he couldn't fathom a holiday coming up until late last night. I, because I was finally starting feel like I was catching up with my life and I didn't want to give up my time; I wanted to keep getting back 0n my perceived track, and complained to anyone who cared to take 30 second to read my emails about the upcoming week. Plus, we had planned to work in the garden, not our favorite activity.

Be careful what I wish for. Sure enough, at 9.30 this morning, Boss rang, twice, and Ben's been back at work all day today, doing his normal hours. I have to be super careful not to be so cross when he gets back, albeit not at him but at his work.

They've been warned by outside consultants since 2000 that they need to hire someone who can act as his backup, paying consultancy fees 6-20 times an average annual salary each time, but somehow they couldn't find the budget to hire someone; not even for a half time position.

But I feel guilty because he's more disappointed than I am, though he's not the kind that would say so, not even to me, until years later. I feel frustrated with our (yes, our) Japanese sense of duty and dedication and loyalty to work. If I were him, and I wasn't away from home, I would be going to work as well. So in spite of the stupidity that is bottom line managerism that's been going on at the Polytech, at least since the February 1999 Review, I am resolved to nice to Dear Husband and perhaps cook him a Japanese dinner tonight. (And at least until then, I can go back to "Middlesex", which I've been reading almost all day every day.)

Friday, while waiting for Ben to finish work, thinking about this week, I discovered the library held newer issues of "Ornament" magazine, as well as one called "Craft" by the British Arts Council. I liked the articles in "Craft" very much, so glad to make this new discovery. Anyhow, I made notes of these websites and places of interest from the few issues in these magazines. Perhaps you might enjoy them, too.

• Susan Neal - weaving
  
• Clare Gage - tableware
  
• Richard Arkwright's mill in Cromford and Matlock Bath, both in Derbyshire's Derwent Valley, UK.
• www.theornamentedlife.com - "The Ornamented Life" - I can't load this website, and have found other websites/blogs citing this url, so I'm not sure what's happening. This appears to be a possible future home of her new web site, but don't quote me on it.
  
• Valeria Fazekas, wool hats
  

And once again, about Bernard Leach and Yanagi Soetsu. And a book review of "Kingdom of Beauty: Mingei and the Polics of Folk Art in Imperial Japan". I was surprised the review and/or the author didn't go back far enough to explore Japan's pillaging and kidnapping of Korean artists and decimating their craft, (we were doing a pretty thorough job in the 7C CE, from memory) but I haven't read the book so I can't say more.

Right. 2PM. Better work on the Marlborough Group blog now.

Huh!

Nelson Bays Arts Marketing is now handing out tasks, and at the completion of that task, will officially cease to exist. Sad, but time to move on! Better than having a bad organization.

Natural Alternatives Mothballs Part II

On Facebook, I was recommended:

• Freezer
• Fumigation
• Lavender
• Cedar
• Camphor or napthapene and other icky smelling things (I like camphor) and DON'T freeze.
• (Oh, my, will the bugs survive the next Ice Age?)
• Cedar
• Bay Leaves

Of these, I have bay aplenty, (I was wondering how to get rid of them actually,) and can grow more lavenders. I intend to cut them fresh and hang them in the room in addition to my current mothballs. Would that do the trick?

Practicing Artist

Yes, I am; I am still practicing so I get better. The "artist" at MegWeaves is weaving after all.

I do hope this is the end of my overlong hiatus from weaving and making things, from my life as it should be.

Touch wood. Fingers, toes and eyes crossed!!

Michael Wilcox / School of Colours Products in New Zealand

Michael Wilcox's products are now officially available in New Zealand from Alison Eades. Please contact her directly for details.

Urgent, Please Help Me!

I used to use a lavender-scented moth protection in my wool room; it was a little strong (because I used lots), expensive, and short-lived, but it worked well since 2000 when I first set up my stash room.

That product is either no longer available or very scarce and I haven't seen it in the supermarkets, except sporadically, for a few years, so yesterday I gave in and bought those white chemical mossballs for my stash. I also have one of those automatic spray bug killers, too.

I didn't use a lot of the balls, and the leftover is in two resealable plastic bags, but the smell is overwhelming and I can't stay in my stash room and when I come out I have a strange chemical taste in my mouth.

If you know of any reasonable natural/herbal alternatives, I would very much appreciate suggestions. I might even burn some incense because besides weaving, I've resumed enjoying lining up balls and cones for my next few projects, among other things.

Thanks a million in advance.

PS. Happy Thanksgiving, Canada.

I Wove Today

This morning I concluded that it's only our upbringing that dictates sitting in front of a TV (particularly soap opera), or a computer (playing mindless games) is bad, but reading is good; that these activities carry no intrinsic value as regards my engaging in them to procrastinate. Still, two novels in eight days, for this slow reader, was good effort.

This morning, though, I had promised that most annoying of people, me, that I will do something relating to weaving today, and since I didn't feel like dressing the loom, I tackled the end of hitherto the most temperamental cashmere warp.

I don't know why, but this one gave me a lot of grief some months ago, and I had to hold my tongue and grin and bear to finish a few tiny scarves. I had three false starts for the last piece and finally abandoned it.

This being on my four-shaft Jack loom, named "Jack Naggi", I had to try weaving off the piece, or abort project and throw away the expensive cashmere,)so I can use the loom for my stash-reduction joy-weave.

I don't know what came over me, but I was utterly patient, totally composed and without even thinking about it, infinitely gentle as I coaxed the wretched warp to become a new scarf. If this is what my little half pills do to me, I can not only work with it, but I can live with a better-balanced me!

This piece will have much mending to do, but it's halfway finished, and it's turning out to be none too shabby. And I had the added bonus of weaving ideas hopping around like rabbits on a paddock in my head.

It has been a good Monday.

Handmade Nation (USA), a Documentary

Thank you, Dana, for the tip. All of you in New Zealand may have heard from me several times about this, as I've just sent off a dozen emails. The trailer alone is a hoot!

Is it old news in the US??

Handmade Nation
The website
The blog
The book that came out a year ago

Honesty

I sent my almost-daily email to a weaver friend. A surprising amount of honest revelations come out when I write to her; honest not because I'm otherwise lying but I feel the need to be constantly aspiring; revelations because these are thoughts I don't realize I have until I'm typing the very words. She has become my confessor of sorts.

(Sorry, I read Geraldine Brooks' "Year of Wonders" last week, and am reading Joanna Harris' "Holy Fools" this week, so I'm thinking in a strange vocabulary, unwittingly reverting to my Convent School self by fits and starts. But not grudgingly. OK, I'll stop, but you should have met me during my Jane Austin phase in the early 80's!!)

This morning, I was surprised to see these words appear on my screen:

"Many have been staggered by my sticking to plain weave for seven years without even getting into color and weave. I've been weaving mostly twill in the subsequent seven, and still intend to continue, though I would like to look into shadow, as I tend to go on about it. I think shadow weave is a great compromise for my continued interest in plain, my guilt for not attempting color and weave, but with a bit more compositional possibilities. I prefer deep rather than broad, so I'm fine with what I do. There are tons of structures I've never woven, and I probably won't get around to, but part of me is fine about that. A small part of me worries perhaps there is a weave structure that I would love better than twill or shadow, but that I just haven't stumbled upon it. Now that would be a travesty. Or will it?"

This morning, I'm thinking, "No, it won't."

The First Week of Octobers

In 2006 I was in Randy Darwall's workshop. In 2007 I was in Wellington for the opening of Re:fine. In 2008 I was struggling with my first shadow weave on the table loom, while thinking of drafts for my fine cottons. I was frustrated with my lack of productivity, yet feeling happier and sensing good things happening in the air.

The first week of October 2009 was spent wondering if my medication was working, and if it is, was I unable or unwilling to be productive; pondering my diminished capacity and wondering if I had settled into a comfortable lazy rut, feeling half frustrated, half paralyzed. I felt trapped inside my house, anxious to be seen white I tended my horribly neglected so-called garden.

But frustration is good; that is where my hope lies. Yesterday I thought of taking up Italian again. I think good things are coming my way.