I'm Two

Two years ago today, I started blogging about my thoughts on weaving while feeling frustrated with a tendinitis on my right wrist and unable to weave.

I'd never seen a blog, didn't know there were non-political blogs, and had imagined something like Doogie Howser's electronic diary. (Remember that at the end of each episode?) Then, my best friend from high school, Liz, told me about her blog, and it was beautiful and fancy and spontaneous and wonderful and I had to get me one right away.

"Unravelling" started as my meditation, as it were; I was writing to myself to clear my head and move on to my next task/project/topic of meditation. My Japanese blog title can be translated to something like "Fabric Scraps, Loose Ends and Talking to Myself".

I had one reader in mind: me.

Then I started to make new friends and some of you left nice comments, and "Unravelling" became something of a platform to report what I've done, to share my thoughts, introduce weavers and information I found, and solicit help. Interaction makes the experience more personal and I felt a change in my tone: less article, more conversation. At times I felt I needed to watch what I say or be selective about the topics, but that changes the nature of my relationship with "Unravelling". So I go back and forth.

You know I'm under-tall and un-thin, cranky and 50, and though I love weaving, I find it terribly difficult to make the kind of cloth I'd be happy to put my name on . I get massive creative blocks and stay away from my looms for big chunks of time, then over-commit and work like a one-woman production line. And in between time, I get delightfully depressed, or I have to go away to relearn to play like a child.

I thought life was going to get easier when I grew up; either I haven't grown up yet, or I keep choosing difficult paths, or everybody is having a hard time but don't make a fuss. As long as I keep playing this game, though, of weaving, of blogging, and of growing up, I'm going to make sure I have fun.

That's all I've got tonight; the design thing is intriguing, but I've got to get back on that loom bench.

This Book Makes Me Thirsty

I now recant my cynicism about the book, "Finding Your Own Visual Language"; it is as wonderful as everybody says.

It is a nice-looking book, but the authors didn't concentrate as much on making a beautiful book as they did on making us get to work and be excited about the making. There are just enough examples showing how the exercises can be done, but not enough to make the book prescriptive, and some examples show how ideas germinated in the exercises have been developed into pieces of work.

The book also has a lot of reminders I didn't know I needed until I read them. Here's one: "... don't be intimidated by the idea that a shape has been 'done'. (They) are all symbols as old as human kind. No one owns these images. They are part of our collective unconscious."

The exercises are simple yet versatile, so I can revisit them for the fun of it, to develop the idea further, to try different options, or to restart with a different topic. Yesterday I made eight examples for Exercise 1 in the afternoon, but my head was flooding with variations I had to try 13 more in the evening. And there's isn't a lot of drawing! Yay!

The exercises are about 2/3 of the book; the authors suggest how I can use these techniques continuously or repeatedly, productively or unproductively (which is just as important) in my work. In this respect, "Finding" may become my Betty Crocker's big red cookbook or Edmonds Cookery Book where I know my favorite recipes but I return time and time again, modifying, multiplying, or just for old times' sake.

I haven't exactly done a lot of design/creativity-training to compare; I did The Artist's Way on my own in late 2003, and one correspondence and two workshops with Alison in the last six years.

The Artist's Way is designed by writer Julia Cameron, so though I enjoyed the process, I needed a few extra step between all the thinking/writing, and the making of something visual. Alison's methods, I really didn't get until the March workshop, so I need to experiment more, but the main difference is, for Alison, I need to research a topic before I can get my hands dirty. With "Finding", it's as if Mom dropped me right in the middle of the kindy where all the material have been laid out and all I that's expected of me is to play.

Or, it's because of my epiphany in the March workshop I can now jump right in without forming expectations. Either way, I think the authors intended to write a book to make us get going.

"Finding" doesn't decrease my liking of Julia Cameron's softly-softly approach, but I've been doing this art thing a while now, and I like the little sturdier nudge I find in "Finding" more honest. This is a book that can lead you to water and make you mighty thirsty.

Kaz the Curious Weaver has a less gushy, more concise description of the book, as well as examples of what she did with the exercises here. (If anyone else has posted something about working with this book, please let me know.)

Happy Birthday, Bonnie Inouye!!

Happy Belated Birthday, Bonnie Inouye! (Her birthday was on the 23rd. I just readjusted my monitor to make emails easier to read, and reread her email of the 22nd and there I found it. Sorry, folks.) And enjoy the workshop in Richmond, VA; I know your students will.

Her workshops are exciting because not only do you get the feel of Bonnie as a weaver and teacher, you can tap into her knowledge of weave structures and weaving geography/anthropology, (ancient Peru, for example), and say exotic phrases like "turned taqueté" without blushing. But for me by far the most wonderful was to see her scarves and shawls wrapped around a person, and in motion.

I know we know bodies aren't cylindrical, and we think of the movements when we design our textiles, blah blah blah, but I still remember a jaw-dropping experience in 2002 of seeing a red shawl with big circles (in themselves impressive,) strategically placed to make an impression as the wearer walked away. I slithered off the chair and kowtowed.

I also discovered the magic and convenience of a digital camera; she showed us slides of dinner scene of the previous night! This promoted hubby to buy his first one later in the year; can't imagine life without one of them, either, any more, can we?

Good Books

Just this morning, I was gazing at the revamped The Artist's Way web site, thinking of doing a second stint this winter, since I already have more Julia Cameron books than an artist can swing a stick at. Then in our PO box, I found my copy of Finding Your Own Visual Language, from Amazon.jp, via my mother.

Honestly, when some of you were going all googoo gaga over this book, I was a little skeptical; no book can be that good to so many people. But I could be wrong; I've only had once glance though the book just once so far, but it looks interesting and very intelligent.

It's a much slimmer volume than I expected, but I like that UK and US artists collaborated in writing, so they left the spelling the way each author spelled in the first place. (Which made me think: why aren't there more fabulous books co-written by Australian and New Zealand artists?? You've an eager reader in me!)

It appears Jane Dunnewold, the American author, also hosts Art Cloth Studio, and she has a rather introspective reading list. (If you'd like a copy of this book, you may be able to find used ones, or contact Jane, or Dale Rollerson at The Thread Studio in Australia.)

I can't wait to get started, but not until I finish my first fabric stash reduction effort at long last.

Dye Discharge

One of the things Randy Darwall and Brian Murphy did in their workshop was to demonstrate dye discharge. They bought a piece of drab-looking (sorry!) brown wool (?) fabric in the local shop. They might have scrunched it a little, but Randy sprayed it with undiluted (?) bleach in a spray bottle. And voilà it became an attractive piece of cloth. I've always wanted to do this, but couldn't think of what to use to experiment.

One of my favorite pieces of clothes, a dark blue cotton double-knit cardigan, has been looking tired, out of shape and I've started to loose the buttons, so I finally bit the bullet and tried it. I chose this afternoon because it was sunny, dry, with gale-force winds, and I just hung the cardi behind a garden chair and sprayed away.

I chose a spray bottle with fine mist, so the discharge occurred in areas rather than in spots. I don't know if this prevented splotches, or made the pattern less interesting. I was disappointed the discharged area came out almost purple/pink rather than white-ish, and the purple/pink are almost all the same regardless of whether I sprayed just once or several times. In short, the whole garment looks not as exciting as I had imagined.

You can see in the lower back I tried to discharge more than other parts. I wonder if I should have sprayed, then let the area dry, then sprayed some more, instead of spraying continuously in one area. I have other blotches, and some areas where I must have touched while my rubber gloves had residual bleach.

I am thinking of having another go, either with some more bleach, or with dye, with this one. I'm also looking at what other old pieces of clothing I have with which I can experiment; there's a bright red cotton turtle neck whose neck is looking tired and horrified in the laundry basket just now.

Prints

Printing is so free of restrictions I wonder why anyone would choose weave structures to put on fabric, but then I am strangely drawn to these. Ditto with embroidery and needlepoint; I've recreated the appearance of weave structures in these crafts. I must really like them.

Gorgeous

Peg is Right

Have a look at THIS! Thanks, Peg, and Leigh, of course.

Dazed and Confused

I had an idea of converting a simple weave into double weave and putting a twist to it, but I couldn't figure it out on the computer or the paper so I've resorted to some basic methods. Here I'm weaving on a frame loom Mom made me yonks ago when she started to get into frame, tapestry and other "picture" style weaving; the poor loom sat quietly in the drawer until yesterday.

First I thought if I saw the weave on a single layer, I'd understand if what I'm trying to do is unreasonable; then I tried it in double and didn't like the look; now I keep modifying the idea in my head but my hands are slow to follow.

Never mind. Southerlies are blowing (that's the cold wind for us) and the fire is going all weekend, and it's a good chance to appreciate what a slow craft we practice.

Once I figure it out, it's going to be such a "D'OH!!" moment you'll have to excuse me if you hear me at your place.

Finally Done

Oh, boy, that was a lot of work, but a lot of fun. In all, these four tiny bags required a day's work. The store didn't have the dull gray ribbons I sampled with; in fact the only grosgrain ribbon in the "gray" range was a slightly wider one in silver, and after looking at the dull yellows (there were two: not-very-dull, and not-dull-at-all,) I decided to go for the slightly blingy silver. Its brightness obscures my name in silver gel pen, but I don't mind that. Shorter handle would have looked nicer, but I had to be careful putting my hands though the sample, and my hands aren't big, so I made them a tad longer.

I hope Jay approves. Because four more are in the pipeline. Well, for another rainy day.