Not Happening

On the whole, we've been having a settled, lovely autumn/winter conducive to cool-weather gardening, with occasional rain, (far fewer than forecast,) for weaving, interspersed with "I just can't be bothered" days. I finished threading the tied weave warp on June 2, finished sleying and sorting out the tension, etc., for sampling on June 7, but haven't started, because...

After 21 years of service, the air compressor setup is causing problems. At first it looked like air leak from where the compressor air enters the foot pedal, *blue cord,) so we remedied that; and because the old ones were plastic, replaced plugs for the unused holes with spiffy new metal ones. But it still leaked, so we left the pedal at the specialist, who rang to say there's nothing wrong with the pedal itself but something-something is leaking? causing pressure to build up inside the pedal, causing it to leak. Wha??

 

The logic didn't make sense to Ben, either, so the ideal scenario is for him to talk to this Malcolm guy, but Ben's been super busy at work and we've been able to work on my problem about once a week, and Malcolm works part time. Incidentally, Ben found the pressure meter and a valve on the compressor plug have died as well, so those have been/will be replaced. It'd be hilarious?? if this valve business solves the whole leak problem,  but I'm not counting on it... It's starting to get depressing, two weeks of putting sampling on hold while we rush to the specialist to get unsatisfactory results; we're heading there for the third time soon. 

We were/are scheduled to have rain off and on all week, so I anticipated a happy, colorful week. I haven't had peace of mind to even think of weft colors or drafts, but that's on me.

 

I was going to write about what kind of a modified tied weave I'm going to use on this project, but this post is now long enough, so I'll stop here. I'll start a new one about the weave structure.

 

 

 

Why Don't I Draw? / On Color-Experiment-Art-Therapy

I've been gazing at the works of Spanish artist Jesus Cisneros several times a day, because I am yearning to draw little whimsical sketches, a little every day, and color them in, but I have that usual mental block when it comes to drawing. Last year's Bard drawing worked because I was only "copying" the same painting. A few years ago, before I embarked on Will, I had a Matisse and a Modigliani portraits phase, which I enjoyed very much; I've thought of revisiting Matisse, but haven't actually done any. 

 

I wish I could draw freely subjects I like: domestic scenes, interiors, kitchen scenes, or kitchen/weaving/sawing/art tools and supplies, or cakes and pastries and tea cups on tables. It's not that I've never tried - I had a capsicum-drawing phase late last century, but I was never happy with them so it didn't last. The funny thing is, and now I know this painfully well, that some of the "baddest" drawings are what I like best later, while "OK" ones often turn out boring. So I'll be happier if I did a bunch of bad drawing now, to perhaps color them in later and self-congratulate, or cut them in shapes to paste, or scan/copy and manipulate. Still, long evenings are lovely; at least I have been indulging in befriending watercolor and brushes.

The original plan was to make collage fodder for my journal (and other) swaps. It so happens I've been out in the garden most days, and by the time I finish dinner I'm exhausted; these "no thinking" stuff on paper also turned out to be an antidote, stopping the incessant replay of "tomorrow's garden jobs" at all hours. 

 

Because I'm working under artificial light, colors look duller while I work, and I'm surprised/shocked how bright and saturated some look the next morning. Gradually "intention" started to creep in. Most sheets, I work over two nights, wash, and/or majority of elements going in the first night, and editing the second. I posted a couple to the FB journal swap group page, and friends' comments steer me in different directions. Here are some examples from the last ten days. 

I needed saturated but nuanced yellow sheets. This was #3, where I incorporated more yellow greens and oranges; originally they were to be covered by yellows, leaving just nuances rather than the original colors, but I liked the orange bloom so much I stopped working.

Then I concentrated on the bloom, and made this very pale sheet. I knew this would come handy in collage, but I felt ambivalent about its done-ness.

After several yellow-all-over sheets, I decided to "diversify" one night. Truth be told, I was running out of some yellows, oranges and greens, so I used some colors I have plenty of, ergo the pink.

The top sheet I made up one evening, and worked on some more the second. The bottom sheet is the same as the bottom sheet in the previous picture, with additional colors. The first layer on this sheet was so very saturated I had to add new colors rather dry and lightly, or they became mixed with the bottom layers almost instantly. Another good swap friend Tess commented it looked "shiney", which in turn made me think about saturation.

So the next two evenings I thought about saturation. The first sheet, you can see I tried layers, so even in the too-muchness, there are nice nuances. The bottom one, I don't know what I was thinking, really. I associate this degree of saturation with circuses and carnivals, totally not to what I intended to make, but they will work cut up and pasted in journals, I think. But all was not lost.

Here are some nice layers from the top sheet, worked over two or perhaps three nights.

The bottom sheet starting to look so loud, I made an attempt at some bloom. But the most surprising was the top right kite-shape; although with a mix of good colors, it looked totally blurred and unfocused, and I revisited over and over to see how I could improve it, or if it was better left with "less". In the end, I had a  dark green in my brush hovering over the entire sheet looking for nice home, and inside the kite was the only "vacancy" I found. And I'm so glad I did, because it finally brought a visual focus, a tightness to the whole shape. Phew! 

Sorry this one is blurred, but it best represents how watery the latest attempt is. Exhausted by the two  loud piece, I've returned to layers and layers of wash plus some colors, on top of the bloom sheet, second from the top picture. This is after one or two nights, and probably unfinished, but some show breathtaking delicacy I hesitate to ruin. I may revisit, I may "touch up" some, I may leave them as they are, in which case I'll show you up close later. But a good contemplation on less vs more, and the opposite of what happened to the kite shape above. I'll start a new sheet, and just stare and stare at this while I work on that.  

In journal swaps, we are encouraged to, and most folks enthusiastically, decorate the envelopes, too. I've been a slackest member in that regard, so I brought out my lino and woodblock and printed out a bunch of envelopes. My main goal was to improve my inking and print skills. The beauty of these swaps, though, is if I print badly, (or even well,) I can add elements so the (bad) print job recedes into the background. (Also at the bottom are some of the yellow collage material.)

I particularly liked the red print on red paper, a new swap with one of my steadiest swap mate Fran, on the subject of Covid/Lockdown. Of the two designs, I like the top one better, although even for me they are so similar I have to look for the fish or the fin in the middle to see which is which. 

 

I still want to draw simple scenes/things, but for now I'm happy with these experiments; I even sense there may be a couple of new woodcuts/linos coming up. And with prints, it's the carving I enjoy, so I'm not worried if they turn out to be more of the same.

I also think I'm OK to thread the big loom, although still not sure about the tiny camping/fishing seat; I'm thinking of kneeling on inflatable rubber cushions, (think Swiss balls, but in the size/shape of cushions.) I can't stop visualizing my weaving that warp!  I just have to rethink the time I spend cooking, weeding and weaving.

Of Weeds and Hips

There has been no weaving or weaving-related activities taking place, due to my self-inflicted hip problem earlier, and the arrival of the brisk season plus a new toy called the Green Bin. This is another random, meandering post. (In great details, nevertheless; goodness, I'm long-winded!)

 

The days are finally cooling down, and I am in my element weeding for a few hours in the afternoons, and doing light-hearted things in the hours after dinner watching and not watching whatever is streaming on the computer. Oh, I love the cooler season! The next couple of months are my favorite time of the year. 

 

Autumn arrived very late this year, and this might be just a cold spell and we may return to the lukewarm temperatures again. The big maple still has 20-25% of the leaves and cherry hasn't started falling yet. The hills in the distance had its first snowfall just this week. 

This is what is known as the Green Bin; we opted for the 240L rather than 120L; and we can throw in most garden waste up to 70kg, (no soil, no flax leaves,) haul it up the steep driveway to the main road, and the rubbish will be taken away every other Monday for only $5.35/fortnight. I may have been aware of this service, I can't remember, but Esther recommended and we slow-jumped on the idea. Weeding constantly, steadily, incrementally, and have it taken away regularly suits the chances in my old body/head/stamina, rather than ordering a huge skip once a year and having to load it up within the week. (For that, we save a year's worth of garden rubbish in about a dozen wool bags, and some compost. One year we had too much and picked out bad roots, bulbs, and vines, bag by bag, but most years we just chuck them all out.) 

 

When it arrived, at 7.07AM a week ago Friday, the 240L bin looked bottomless, but this week, after a fortnight of rain, I weeded for eight hours over two afternoons, and filled 2/3 of the bin with very wet weeds, which is about the maximum weight Ben can manage up the driveway. I'm a little disappointed because I was hoping for... maybe twice as much at least. While discussing the size of the bin to order, size-wise, Ben imagined we could load it up on the back of the Pajero, but it's too wide to fit and too heavy to lift. We haven't experimented with dragging it up the driveway, yet. :-D At roughly $5.35/fortnight, it's still a great incentive for me to get outside on a regular basis. And maybe it's a good thing it doesn't require 80 hours to fill the whole thing. And the rest will go into the wool bags to supplement the bin in weeks we don't have enough, or to let compost and to deal with maybe this summer.

It's crushing to contemplate the magnitude of our mess, though sadly this is nothing new, us being the great indoors people. But once I'm outside, I am able to concentrate on the weed in front of me most of the time, and the brisk air and birds lift my spirits. When someone else's power tools come out, I just raise the volume of my audiobook. There is one tui that has been around for months now, and doesn't seem to be too afraid of us. Sadly the kowhai doesn't have a lot of flowers this year, again, so I hope he gets to have the tree to himself. 

Oh, the self-inflicted hip problem. One Monday I woke up and I had sharp pains on my right hip and I couldn't put any weight on it. I didn't recall sleeping in a weird position, I didn't fall off the bed, I wasn't sure how I got it. By Tuesday afternoon, I realized I am fine standing up, and it suddenly dawned on my I had the same problem some years ago, caused by my not sitting straight. Because I'm so short there's been only one chair in my life I could sit on comfortably. (Well, actually, a few, they being my parents' dining set, with one remaining in Mom's apartment until the last days in 2019. If it could have been taken apart, I would have brought it home; I even contemplated sawing a few places; and it wasn't ugly!) You can imagine in New Zealand my problem is worse. I find myself sitting with my weight on one side or another, and it's worse when I sit on the floor, which I do often because chairs are so uncomfortable, but I prop up the same side, (it must be the left?) with a cushion for some reason.

Last time it took months to remedy, ending up in the purchase of a nice-looking but not exactly comfortable rocker/recliner, but this time I stayed standing up most of the day for a few days, (and boy, I got a lot of cooking done, all the ironing, and even some print work!) and the pain went away by the end of the week. I'm dying to go downstairs to keep threading the tied-weave, but that's very problematic as I sit on a tiny folding camping/fishing thing, and even at normal times I have to quit after a couple of hours because my lower limbs go all funny. I am now considering different ways of sitting on the floor, or a stack of books, for that.

Meanwhile, this hay-fever-related problem isn't going away, and we look set for a very warm winter, so... life is never boring.

The April that Was

I gave myself a week to take care of my Letter Journal bottleneck, to various results. This is an unfinished spread, (i.e. someone else has to work on it to "complete" and sign it off,) but my favorite; I worked on this the week leading up to the Bard's 459th and the First Folio's 400th, in a swap with my usual friends. This steady group produce very layered, always surprising, and even if difficult at the time, always, always rewarding collaborative results. 

 

I got a little adventurous and joined another swap with not my usual friends also; this is always a gamble. I struggled with different view on simple/layered, collaborative/not, and communicative/not, but I survived, finishing my bits early the following week and now await mine to return. I had a bunch of little life stuff that needed attention, also had a mild cold, so the rest of the week was a write off. Except life's little stuff included a good crop of feijoas, (still ongoing,) and making sorbet every few days.

I had a doctor's appointment, not for anything specific, but for an annual overview to get my annual blood test organized. Since we had time, (since my latest "ailment", the shoulder problem, having magically disappeared,) Dr sue and I discussed the weird effect of hay fever on my face/eyes, to which she said some people some years need HF meds year round in NZ, and face cream for skin sensitivity and hot compress for the eyes were what she would have prescribed, short of a cortisone cream. I also brought up my cognitive problems, for which she set up a short assessment. 

 

Today I had said short assessment, which I aced 30/30, but Nurse Jo and I discussed age-appropriate decline, but what specifically are they in my case?? I said my having been healthy most of my life makes me notice every little defect, and I sometimes don't know which ones to ignore and which ones to worry about, or for how long. At any rate we're going to meet in six months if there are noticeable changes. One of the questions, though, was today's day of the week and date/month/year, and I have a hard time saying it the NZ way, (d/m/y), still prefer either the US (m/d/y) or Japanese (y/m/d), and I always have to think a bit. But lucky I had to do a lot of pension-related paperwork earlier in the year, I know it's 2023 for sure, because I got a little confused about the years 2020, 2021 and 2022 before that, and I still think in terms of  "which lock down".

There is one aspect that bothers me more than most, and that's my not being able to find things. Like this morning when I cut some rosemary to drop off at friends' and I put down the secateurs, somewhere I would have to walk passed later, just long enough to tie all the branches into one big bunch, and loaded in the car, and... I spent 15 minutes looking for it. And to make it easy to find, years ago I painted it very bright orange! It's worse when I know I'll need something later and put it in a "special place" - that is a guarantee I won't be able to find it. I am seriously considering carrying a small notebook and a pen or a pencil around my neck in my house, because I can get quite angry at myself wasting so much time and then waste time being angry or disgusted. Dear me!

 

There is no question I need to exercise more, though; lifetime of obesity, high cholesterol since middle age, (what exactly is the definition of middle age anyway?) and recent cognitive issues can all be helped/delayed greatly, and since I don't like gyms and swimming but don't mind walking, I just need to get my unsmall butt in gear pronto, with or without Ben. And it's nice we're heading into the cold season, because it's nice walking in the brisk air.

We had our 33rd anniversary on Friday. Ben had the day off, but we had errands, groceries shopping, and my doctor's appointment, so that evening we indulged in my favorite food group, cold cuts of meat, in sandwiches, and leftover soup. On Sunday, however, I attempted Ben's favorite cake, angel food cake, only for the second time in my life. It was Mom's favorite to bake when we lived in Minneapolis, (and later Tucson,) in the early 60s and I had until a few years ago her giant angel food cake tin with three little fingers to stand it upside down, but in one of our "seriously low carb" phases, I gave it away. Looking for some depth, I couldn't find any metal tins, but the portion was perfect for splitting into two in these two vessels. That CorningWare is also Mom's from the 60s, although in the last few years I broke the lid. I knew it would still be useful. The recipe itself isn't difficult, I just needed a way to stand it on its head. In future, I know to halve the recipe to make one small cake, (and quarter the sugar;) I use the recipe from my copy of 1969 Betty Crocker, so there is a good chance Mom's recipe was the same, or very similar. Although I don't recall her having her own Betty Crocker, we did have a tour of General Mills; I vaguely remember it.  

Weaving-wise, I'm suspending the clasped weft project; I'm probably not going to use the warp I showed you in the last post for that purpose, but returning to threading my tied weave warp.

Moving On

On Monday, I thought I'd be productive and augment/widen this warp, wind it, and even thread it for another clasped weft. Except I'd forgotten I had the dark colors in the center of the warp, not on one side, and that felt like a game-changer for the purpose.

Because I missed the big birthday anyway, (not only the giving-of-the-pressie, but we both had reaction to our third Covid Booster,) there is no reason I need to rush this one. I started thinking: "What is it I want to make?" OK, before that, what do I think when planning/weaving a clasped weft piece? 

1) First and foremost, I notice hues and their interplay in most textiles, but with clasped weft, weft colors, (why monochromatic felt so new to me;) hues, values, their relationships, balance/proportion.  

 

2) Second, obviously the shapes of/lines dividing the two/different weft areas, (which monochromatic wefts bring to the fore;) included are balance/proportion, balance/contrast, repetition, even moods like pointy, rounded, elongated, etc., should I/viewer look for any. 

3) Then there is the underlying weave structure, which appear at times vividly, and other times not so well behind the "busyness" of the above two elements. But I'm always terribly into interesting structures/patterns, avoiding plain weave where I can, even if this hampers the precision of shapes/lines possible with clasped weft on plain weave. 

 

One thing I noticed on the Navy/Orange piece, is where threading moves quickly, e.g. 1-2-3-4, there are vertical stripes in the finished piece which weren't evident while weaving; where there were some floats, e.g. 1-1-2-2-3-3-3-4-4, the warps are covered better and no stripes appeared. This also relates to 4). This piece was woven 20EPI for cushynesss; I may revert to 18EPI but I'm not sure that will solve the problem. All three pieces have left home now and in the samples, these strips are not obvious to invisible. 

 

These were woven on four shafts, so the complexity of background pattern is limited.

4) And lastly, (that I can think of at this moment,) there is the warp hues/values. They are not as obvious or as consequential as I think I would like them to be, but if they are too manifest, they will distract from the main event, the 1) and 2) above. Hues/values obviously influence the finished look, i.e making the dark end darker and the light end lighter in the first two pieces of the previous monochromatic warp; actually, the navy in the third piece looked very nice against black, too. But it can make the overall picture murkier, even messy. Have a look at pieces I wove on a warp I made at the same time as the one I'm about to. See the dark bits in the middle? I'm not crazy about that. And the more I think about it, the closer the warp hues/values should be linked to background pattern. 

 

For now my gut feeling is, because I think this warp is pretty, but perhaps not as clasped weft background, perhaps I shouldn't make a clasped-weft-specific warp, and use this to have a pattern-focus towards the center as well. OR, is this a more challenging challenge?

Duty to my swap mates notwithstanding, this week I thought a bit of color play might yield fresh insight, so I'm doing small mixed media. Of course there is the fact I like mulling over weavy-thinky things. But then I can't get away from my Senior Brain worries my skills and abilities are only going further downhill, and the only way I can think of to combat that is more weaving. (Note to self: this did not happen to Mom until she was well into her 80s!) I'm not pessimistic. I'll go downstairs and continue to thread tied-weave; I can't wait to start sampling that one. I'll keep thinking about this warp as well as clasped weft, and try to transfer my head-picture onto something on the looms. 

 

I must also start the cool season weeding. I had a 2-week reprieve from that weird hey-fever/face/eye thing in February; it came back in March with the autumn wind; but we've had rain in April, and the wind isn't as fierce, so it's not as bad. Autumn came suddenly this year. Liquid maple turned from green to dark purple overnight, skipping all the lovely colors in between, I might have already told you, but still holding tight to the branches. It's actually been a pretty autumn, pleasant, and not cold like some years after the initial chill. There is oh-so-much to clean at our place, inside and out; annual doc appt at the end of the month; so many interesting books to read; I've no time for sulking!

Monochromatic Cashmere Warp Pieces Three and Four

In short, this piece was a (giant) flop, because of the erratic beating. What's worse, I was unaware of it while weaving, and only saw how bad it was when the remainder of the warp came off the loom. And it took me over a week to come to terms with it. But more on that later.

I had another intended giftee for the third piece. This person, with a big birthday coming up, often surprises with bold colors and patterns in their leisure wear. I wanted to weave in that spirit. First I re-rethreaded to bring in more movement, (middle sample,) but I wasn't successful, so I re-rethreaded, (right sample,) which I liked better. 

 

I struggled with the colors, too, but finding a recent photo of the giftee's new-to-me pants, I tried navy and oranges, seen at the top of the far right sample. The very top combination would have been nearest to the photograph, but they are 26/2, which would have taken longer to weave but also change the lines I've gotten used to weaving with 20/2. I could have gone either way, with the orange, (second from top), or a somewhat toned-down but closer-to-the-photo burnt orange, (third), but Ben and I thought bolder would be better. The 20/2 navy is my absolute favorite, a color I thought I might use for myself one day, but much better to weave a special pressie for a special person!

Introducing hues to this warp at first disappointed me when the delicate interplay of the achromatic yarns was taken over by the colors demanding my attention. But gradually their boldness allowed me to get a little adventurous with shapes.This portion felt particularly fresh in spite of the treadling mistake. (This photo shows the colors pretty accurately.) 

However, I must beat harder when I'm excited about what I see on the loom; this very section caused the biggest disappointment in the beat department. Witness how relaxed I felt after the "combs" and went back to the gappy beating I aimed for to produce an airier final texture. 

Clasped-weft, particularly in twill, presents a unique problem in how much give to allow where the two wefts clasp. The loops full enough in the washing to not present a problem, but in succession, sometimes the shapes can look stitched together. (Again, accurate colors.)

In rethreading, I brought back longer floats; this allows "islands" of colors depending on the clasp position. This bothered me while weaving, but in a finished piece, it's not all bad. Longer floats, though, change how precisely lines/shapes can be controlled, which is why tapestry is (usually?) woven in plain weave. I'm not sure if this is important for my purposes, or if I prefer the weave pattern to be interesting as well. (Well, of course, the latter!!)

The fourth, warp-end swatch, was woven with Mom's oddball leftover; super fat and glossy. I can't even guess the size of the yarn but something I consider a knitting yarn, with plenty of silk, not as airy as 100% cashmere after finished. Throughout, I was struggling with the white warps' tension - here I was just in a rush to finish the warp.

The next warp on the four-shaft will be the left one, although as with this monochrome warp, I will have to add a couple of inches, probably on the dark end, to weave wider pieces than I planned when I made the warp. Most colors in it are not bold, but I'll leave that to the wefts, with warp colors adding interest rather than clashing. 

 

Now to the real issue with the third piece. I am sick of each and every project being a gamble on how alert I can stay to all aspects of weaving as I work. It's hardly as if I'm slacking off and dismissing problems while I work, but I've always had a one-track mind; I have problems paying attention to multiple things simultaneously; treadling, beating, selvedge, draw-in...

I've observed some older weavers' skills or tenacity deteriorate, although many just stay the course and keep weaving beautifully and skillfully. (How dare they!) I've said many times I've always been technically weak, but I'm having to face the "is my best days over" too often. It's bad for my self-esteem, even with my usual compartmentalizing and seeing objectively matters relating to weaving. 

 

At the not-so-back of my mind is when, a few years ago, a bad cashmere warp made me suddenly stop weaving altogether, not even consciously, for maybe a year and a half. I didn't know if I would ever get back to it, I didn't care, I just walked away for a time, and I didn't feel guilty about it. Long-time readers would know how absolutely unusual that is.

I want to avoid that; the not weaving. I can only hope the best remedy is to keep weaving. At least if I keep weaving, there is a higher probability I'll make something nice, in comparison to not weaving. Had I had the presence of mind, I might have put on another warp and worked right through in time to finish another scarf. This warp came off the loom nine days ago, so it's not as if it was completely impossible.

 

In retrospect, I knew this was a no-goer the moment I laid the remainder of the warp on the floor that evening. Because I didn't have a genuine debate as to the worth of this piece; it was more a brain-freeze, a weaver-in-the-headlights week. I couldn't, or didn't, gauge how bad this was, nor think of a remedy. Instead, I ignored it, then finally wet-finished it, dried it, then moved it around the living room without really looking at it or touching it.

If there was anything good about this piece and the last week, I'm thankful it was only a nine-day brain-freeze, that since last night I see my next steps clearly. And in view of my Senior Brain, at least the steps of setting up the loom is among the tasks that can keep me focused and I enjoy. 

 

So, dear friends, onwards! (And Happy Birthday to Mr Fancypants!)

It's Official

Exactly a week ago, I got a letter summoning me to jury duty in the morning of May 15. It would have been my third time; in 1998 I got summoned twice in quick succession, and I went on the appointed mornings, but I was never picked. Ben also got summoned some years later, also twice within a few months, and he even served in a domestic violence case, but it was easy because the culprit admitted to the deeds. 

Japan didn't have jury system between 1943-2009, i.e. when I was growing up. (Since 2009 they've had a quasi-jury system where "lay judges" hear cases alongside professional ones, but I don't know anything beyond that.) Watching the telly and reading the newspaper, I grew up thinking jury system is another example of a shiny Western thing, democratic and aspirational, but I personally never wanted to participate. 

 

I've always seen the world in black and white, and whosoever claimed to see both sides, or the middle, were noncommittal, either from lack of conviction or the will to study an issue. I was so adamant it took time to reconcile with the fact I was starting to see gray areas in my "old age" (mid-40s??), and was noncommittal on sometimes. Totally not suitable to take part in deciding someone else's predicament. 

 

More recently, as the world seem to move faster, so much information being readily available, I became less engaged from the general goings on, and more easily swayed, relying on persons who I believe know better. I also see how little I know of most anything, and I've become less confident.

 

Then there are other, "real" considerations: my body aches more/often; my hearing is considerable worse; my comprehension slower and incomplete, if not misdirected; one hip is semi-permanently dodgy and I can't sit in the same position for long; I can't lift my right shoulder in a certain angle; my muscles don't stretch as easily and can't reach the "high" shelves which didn't use to be "high"; the newly acquired face/eye problem I thought was just temporary this summer may now be a recurring thing. 

 

Once in a while, nine times since the 2020 Lockdown, I've had instances of thorough confusion about mundane things I usually know/do without thinking, the sort of things I read about associated with dementia. Worse, while being confused, I'm fully aware it's the sort of thing I don't have usually have to think about. My attention and endurance are measured in nano-seconds. As for the forgetting, I've arrived at a place where some of it doesn't appear so bad, because I'm not so angry or embarrassed about forgetting so much so soon. 

 

And while not all of this relates to jury duty, I'm not sure how outdated my values are in comparison to the social norm/common sense. I genuinely don't feel comfortable being responsible for someone else's predicament, when I have enough problem deciding things for myself.

 

Esther thinks older generations' opinions are just as important in a jury, and I agree in general, but I'm going to leave it to healthier, more confident 65s and over for this particular task; I'm declining all participation. (There is also provision for Covid-related issues, as I imagine most every other jurisdictions.) 

You might have guessed; I'm 65 today. Mom has said in the last decade of two, "insert_my_age is nothing, wait until you're insert_her_age!" But it's is not a competition, and today I am the oldest I've been in my life. Oh, boy, do I try not to say this to folks younger than I! Worse, I've mentioned this a lot here, I'm a heck of a lot less fitter than she was at this age, and looking around I've been aging faster than folks of the vintage. Which is a little disappointing because until my early 50s, I looked much younger than my chronological years.

 

I imagine my life getting even smaller each year. I'll get further left behind by technology if/when Ben looses interest; I've noticed since smart phones he's not interested in all technology, just some. I imagine weaving less and slower and less accurately, but I'm also less worried about speed and have time for the fussier. Sometimes. The number of things I wished I could/would do will increase; I'll finish reading fewer books; I'll be longer-winded, repeat myself more, and ask others to repeat and speak up even more; annoy more, add value to less. And, yeah, I'll probably be more acerbic, rather than mellowing, and less self-aware. And fat.

I am not self-pitying, not grumpy, but realistic. Later today I'll keep weaving a significant-birthday present for someone else. And I'll give my 29385604th try making a pie crust, which has been a bane of my kitchen existence since 16, cranking out Baked Alaskas on ready-made crusts. In the evening, I'll LINE with Mom, opening with my standard joke of the last few decades: "Thanks for your contribution on that auspicious day, Mom!"

Like Ali told me the day before my 60th, I got up, and it's been another day.

The Way I Read (Some) Books

Having friends who think deeply is a gift; that I have some with knowledge of not just literature but psychology, sociology and the business surrounding books is an undeserved treasure, for which, (or whom?) I don't express appreciation often enough. I know in my head I should be careful not to exhaust them with my flippancy, but I can't shake Mom's motto she raised us with, either: it's rude to just sit and not take part, (which, strangely, my sister was allowed, but not me,) that we must all participate to the fullest extent to show appreciation of everyone's company.

Crikey. 

The other day I inadvertently shared something I've never shared with anyone, ever. We were talking about the benefits of good books, their ability to make us "think", but that thinking manifested in different ways to different people, at different times, with different books. And I blurted out, "I insert myself into the book."

 

I'm talking about fiction. But not all fiction. And sometimes I don't get to choose. I am an extra: an apprentice fetching a pail of water; one of the many old ladies squeezing fruits while gossiping at the market; a kitchen maid; even a weaver emerging from the dark house, shielding my eyes from the afternoon sun. I am a daughter, a spinster, a widow, but usually an invisible someone who can move around unnoticed within a limited area. And I see, and eavesdrop! Too often I think the central characters are risking great danger and being silly, except, heavens, if they ever listened to me, there will be no story, so it's a good thing I don't have the chance to go anywhere near the center of the story. But the spaces and situations I occupy or encounter by chance are vivid. They are the "other side" of the story.  

I love to read historical fiction and magical-realism, especially for young adult. Sometimes while I'm reading, I see me in the crowd; other times I create a wee backstory, and I slip into the role. Try as I may, it's not up to me to know which books I can get into, and I sure never went anywhere near Harry Potter because the magnitude, and the speed, of Rowling's imagination was more than I could handle. Discworld, on the other hand, I'm so there, all over, everywhere, loitering, being one of the many in the noisy, roudy crowd.

And here's where it gets a little weird. I am in Vincent van Gogh's biographies, too, but only in the post-Paris years. I'm a rank amateur drawer/painter, a working class female of indeterminate age. I have a tiny raggedy notebook I made myself, maybe a feather or reed and some ink, maybe a stick or charcoal I picked up from the fire, and I sometimes like to watch that strange Dutchman paint outdoors. I've never spoken to him, because I'm afraid of him; I can't tell when he's drunk, and he smells bad. Sometimes I look in the same direction as the Dutchman, and try to draw something, in secret, but he never notices me. Sometimes I stand some distance away and watch him, painting flowers and haystacks and stars and Montmajour, so quickly, with so many colors, like he can't stop the pictures sputtering out of his hands.  

Sometimes there are other men watching him; they think they are so cleaver hiding behind a tree, scribbling in notebooks, though some boldly walk back and forth behind the painter. They never notice me, and the Dutchman never pays any attention. I heard someone gossiping these men are called "biographers", and in years to come, they all make up their own stories about the Dutchman and make more money than the painter ever did from his paintings.

Ah, to be alive in this world!

A Little More on Stephen's Farewell Scarf

This is the second, longer, piece on this monochromatic warp.  

I had never "seen" the thickness of anything I wove in cashmere until earlier this week when it hung on the back of a chair, and I glanced at it from the other end of the hallway while hunting for a suitable box. I should have taken a picture of it instead of just sighing loudly, but it was a sight to behold. In the end it went inside a beat up computer part (?) box Ben had, suitable to house a piece for his restructured-out, (don't get me started on this,) boss. I now realize how yarn-hungry the current projects are; on the third piece I chose a big ball and a particularly heavy cone, and still I'm going to be able to manage just about 170-180cm, using up both. This will be a big issue if I ever decide to weave to sell clasped weft pieces.

After I washed it and it finished up much nicer than I anticipated, (because that's usually my primary and only concern,) I started to worry if I chose this look/technique for my own creative ego rather than suitability/taste of the intended. Ben had said he wore conservative colors and always had a suit jacket. I wanted to make something special. So though the colors were conservative, but the overall look? Hardly.  

 

Ben brought it to work yesterday and gave it to the boss during morning tea, and texted me that it was well-received. There was some mention of the piece's versatility in casual and formal/work situations, for which I was glad because it wasn't just in my imagination it could go "outdoorsy or opera," the two ends of the spectrum of fanciness in my mind. OK, opera in NZ, where women don't wear lovely silk gowns. I've no doubt it also helped yesterday was the first cold day of the season. 

 

I'm having similar doubts about the current, third piece's colors, too. This is unusual as I was always pretty confident my giftees would like my pieces as long as I "got it right."I know. It's me, me, me. I'm not sure if this emerging doubt relates to my decreasing confidence in technique, aging, or something else.  

 

Clasped weft as a technique has pitfalls, and at least one of the biggie I know is built into the fact I use twill. I'm trying to make notes on all of them before I can decide how to improve/eradicate, or ignore; I'll write about them in future. For now I'm trying to concentrate on the third piece, and possibly another, short piece after that. 

The box was snug, and trying to fold the scarf as few times as possible, it turned out looking wrinkly all over, but it's a solid piece; I can be happy about that.

EDIT: the box actually contained car parts, says Ben. Even better, Stephen loves cars so much, he even brought his father's MGB GT from England. But I must add, it was a clean one, no oil stains or the like, just badly bashed in three corners.

Monochromatic Cashmere Warp Piece Two

Ben chose the second set of wefts, a blue-white and the same dark gray. I decided not to rethread because of time constraints; also because I wasn't confident if rethreading will necessarily result in better design/texture, and I didn't want to kick myself thinking I ruined it again. 

 

I didn't know this at the start, but apparently I wanted to create bigger shapes. It's much easier to do fussy zig-zag lines, while patience, dexterity and the ability to predict shapes/lines, are needed to make bigger shapes. Restricting myself to weaving 20-30cm a day, (which felt like a terribly bad use of time,) was a big factor in giving me headspace and practice smoother lines/bigger shapes.  

So I don't jinx myself, I started treadling 2-3-4-5, then changed direction twice, so a great majority of the piece was woven with this treadling. (And I'm still not sure why this is easier after all the years of preferring 5-4-3-2, but never mind, it works, I'll stick with it.)

I still don't have the ability to foresee where the line between the dark and light wefts go, and many, many times, I moved them, opening the same shed twice, thrice, or more adjusting. I never understood how changes in angle, (how far left/right the intersection of the two wefts are in relation to the previous pick,) will reflect in the longer curve of the line, so sometimes the move was too acute where I wanted more gentler curves, while other times the angle was too obtuse, or even not moving at all. I tried drawing lines on paper to see if I could understand better, but it didn't help much. I'm going to do some more drawing on graph paper, but also, I might start drawing cartoons, not for whole scarves but in sections where I want to reuse the shapes. For e.g. I liked this section, which looks like Casper and his unfriendly cohorts, or sharks' fins.

For variety, I did include some zigzags.

Towards the end, however, I was adamant I was going to tame the smooth lines, making the last quarter (bottom) boring in my eyes. Except... I got a cute hippo as a result. I know, now you can't unsee him, either, can you? Anyhoo...

First piece, right, washed/agitated again. Second piece, left, washed/agitated vigorously. Color sample, also washed/agitated a second time. Though both still wet, the texture is fluffier than the first piece after one wash, although still nowhere near the initial sample. White weft of the second piece is striking, but the light mid-gray of the first is nuanced and attractive. 

 

There is one problem, also, of weaving with clasped wefts in twills, which I learned when I wove in this style a few years back, but I haven't considered it in any depth. I'll show you in the post discussing the next piece. 

 

I got 213cm on the loom this time; 205cm in above pic, 204.5cm at completion. Just in time for Farewell Do on Wednesday.