While riding in the car with Ben to pick up our ox tongues at the butchers, (fab dinner for two and leftovers coming our way!), I regurgitated the ideas I presented in the previous post, and thought I needed to make amendments.
It was analytical abilities, and not cynicism, which was valued in my past environments, I think, but being so not the big-picture person plus extremely short-tempered, I thought vocal cynicism would do the trick. I almost vaguely remember my junior/high school days when I discovered that, or more accurately, made myself believe that. I was all too well prepared for it.
And here, I use the dictionary definition of the word, instead of the teachings of the ancient Cynics, which is actually nice.
I think there's more coming in this vein. But I haven't thought that far just yet.
2010/06/29
Thinking abouot Not Thinking / Straitjacket Part 2
* * * * * Warning: Long and Rambling Thoughts and Non-Thoughts * * * * *
Did I tell you Ben's had last and this week off? I gardened between a couple of hours to half a day three afternoons last week, between and in the rain; Ben water-blasted the green growth on our concrete patio. Truth to tell, neither of us made much progress; the garden looks like someone's head after that someone's mom made the first zap with an electrical clipper and was called away. Still, those afternoons of weeding alone with no radio reset my mind, as it were; it stopped the chatter for a while.
I don't know if it was the small drawings or weeding in the rain, but I had high fever and slept from Friday afternoon to Sunday morning, then spent the most glorious sunny, calm, warm Sunday, inside, medicated, on the couch/bed watching Star Trek Motion Pictures 1 though 5 in one afternoon. (They're not that long without the commercial breaks.) An interesting thing was, for the first 2.5 movies, I was making mental notes about the cut of the costumes around the collar and sleeves.
Had Monday been warmer or not rainy, I would have had a moral conundrum of whether to weed or not, but luckily it was miserable so we cleaned the inside and watched the last, sixth movie.
I've been emotionally away from doing fiber things I had to dream about the last piece I took off the loom to be reminded of it; we had to conduct a search lasing 45 minutes, up and down the stairs in all likely fiber places to locate it. This made me recheck all my fiber-related To Do lists, which got me out of the holiday mood, for good or bad. I've been a big looser; I still can't find the cotton scarf, I'm fine, but it saddens me to see Ben so sad about my loosing it; more importantly to me, I've been missing my purple Long Janes like forever and I can really use them now.
(Mind the Stream of Consciousness Gap)
Early on in my weeding week, my mind wandered and contemplated the futility of weeding, especially in a sunny/rainy place like Nelson. Depending on the season, you can see new growth the morning after you weeded, exactly where you thought you got the whole root system out. I'm not joking. I was thinking of all the folks with impeccably maintained gardens, and others with impeccable-looking gardens. (I've been told the two are not the same, that, for e.g., maintaining a rambling English cottage garden in New Zealand is be a full time job.)
Part of my recurring problem is, if I can't do something to my satisfaction or intended completion, I don't start. It takes a lot of effort and determination for me to work incrementally. So our garden is left to its own device until Ben takes a week or two off so the two of us can put in a concerted effort, except when the time comes, Ben/I doesn't/don't feel like it, one of us gets sick, I can't bring myself to pester Ben, or it rains too much.
Then I thought of friends who have less than perfect gardens; they are never apologetic, but take pleasure in sharing what they have and retelling of what they accomplished. Parental expectations and educational background aside, I thought how wonderful life would be if I could concentrate on what I did get done and stop being apologetic about what I didn't, or how the outcome differred to what I had expected.
My parental expectations and educational/occupational background made me critical/cynical. I don't know if this is my perception or the truth, but I lived in environments where the critical eye was a mark of alertness, even intelligence. And a defense mechanism. I have opinions, and I marked my existence by asserting them, and because I was reasonably good at it, from time to time I received better grades as a student than I deserved, (or so I thought but now looking back, my grades are crap!) and it served me well in some of my past jobs. It became my modus operandi.
Pluck me out of my familiar world, plunk me into this aft/craft one: I don't even make an accurate critic, but I'm an excellent pointer-outer-of-what's-wrong, and not an optimist. On reflection I don't often come up with remedies for mistakes, but can dish out long lists what not to do the next time.
Granted, I've worked hard these last years so I do work incrementally, I can take process into consideration, even be intrigued by it sometimes, I can take in the new, the different, the other. (And may I say, your company certainly help me progress.) I often fret I am the most joyless weaver when it comes to my own finished work, but I'm finally, finally seeing the bad side of perfectionism.
(Mind the Stream of Consciousness Crack)
I can nor will never belong to the "everything is wonderful" school. I will never simply match yarns with a structure; I aspire to weave pieces that cannot be replicated from a recipe in the first instance, participating alone will never been sufficient, and I won't shy away from saying this out loud. I want to always look at my own work with a standard I set, and I'd like it to be on the high side. (Though it's come down a few notches lately.) I probably can never shed this innate cynicism, (yes, I said innate; have you met my Dad?, but I would like to stop admonishing the fun-loving optimist to make this road a little smoother; I need to practice being a maker and a critic at different and appropriate times.
In the case of recent straitjacket situation in the drawing class: no, I don't like small gesture drawing; yes, I will try anything as instructed; but blow me away, even in drawing I now know what I like to do not based on uspicions of the unknown or the untried, but because I've done some. And any kind of a self-knowledge is good. With drawing, this is a milestone as thus far I only tried to follow direction and live in the moment. Come to think of it, I am a Terrible Two in drawing with one week left in the first of four terms of my third year. So, what? Sit tight, but eventually grow out of it?
As regards my difficulty with the book "Women who Run with Wolves", that I can't make sense out of it, that the writing is too wordy, I perceive as failing intellectually not because I see myself as intellectual, but because in my art/craft life I've often been told I'm overintellectualizing, when in fact verbose would have been more accurate. (You 'd think I'd love the book, then, wouldn't you?)
Not understanding the point of this book meant I am loosing one propensity before gaining another; it made me feel stupid without being blissfully ignorant in a Nirvana way. That many women artists I admire loved the book make this event feel like non-admittance to a club I longed to belong. Annabelle, the classmate in drawing who finally got me to buy the book and who enjoys Jung, posited I'm passed the stage that needs this book. I've thought of that but I'm included to disagree because I'm not in Nirvana. I feel so in-between, neither intelligent enough nor instinctive enough.
Interim Conclusion:
1) Perfectionism = pessimism
Optimism = celebrating accomplishments = enjoyment = good.
2) Self-knowledge = good; pride = bad.
3) Stationary perspective/settled persona = bad.
Flux = inevitable and embracing this eliminates anguish = closer to enjoyment.
(Stream of Consciousness Return to Origin)
Regarding the garden, well, I'm resigned to the fact we won't get much done. Pity, as the time is now to plant/transplant with all this rain. Not so deep down, I know we won't be spending too much time outside on weekends, either, so our place will be a mess again come another glorious Nelson summer. I'll do what I can manage, and the heavy stuff, I'll pay professionals to come help me. We'll all be happier this way.
Did I tell you Ben's had last and this week off? I gardened between a couple of hours to half a day three afternoons last week, between and in the rain; Ben water-blasted the green growth on our concrete patio. Truth to tell, neither of us made much progress; the garden looks like someone's head after that someone's mom made the first zap with an electrical clipper and was called away. Still, those afternoons of weeding alone with no radio reset my mind, as it were; it stopped the chatter for a while.
I don't know if it was the small drawings or weeding in the rain, but I had high fever and slept from Friday afternoon to Sunday morning, then spent the most glorious sunny, calm, warm Sunday, inside, medicated, on the couch/bed watching Star Trek Motion Pictures 1 though 5 in one afternoon. (They're not that long without the commercial breaks.) An interesting thing was, for the first 2.5 movies, I was making mental notes about the cut of the costumes around the collar and sleeves.
Had Monday been warmer or not rainy, I would have had a moral conundrum of whether to weed or not, but luckily it was miserable so we cleaned the inside and watched the last, sixth movie.
I've been emotionally away from doing fiber things I had to dream about the last piece I took off the loom to be reminded of it; we had to conduct a search lasing 45 minutes, up and down the stairs in all likely fiber places to locate it. This made me recheck all my fiber-related To Do lists, which got me out of the holiday mood, for good or bad. I've been a big looser; I still can't find the cotton scarf, I'm fine, but it saddens me to see Ben so sad about my loosing it; more importantly to me, I've been missing my purple Long Janes like forever and I can really use them now.
(Mind the Stream of Consciousness Gap)
Early on in my weeding week, my mind wandered and contemplated the futility of weeding, especially in a sunny/rainy place like Nelson. Depending on the season, you can see new growth the morning after you weeded, exactly where you thought you got the whole root system out. I'm not joking. I was thinking of all the folks with impeccably maintained gardens, and others with impeccable-looking gardens. (I've been told the two are not the same, that, for e.g., maintaining a rambling English cottage garden in New Zealand is be a full time job.)
Part of my recurring problem is, if I can't do something to my satisfaction or intended completion, I don't start. It takes a lot of effort and determination for me to work incrementally. So our garden is left to its own device until Ben takes a week or two off so the two of us can put in a concerted effort, except when the time comes, Ben/I doesn't/don't feel like it, one of us gets sick, I can't bring myself to pester Ben, or it rains too much.
Then I thought of friends who have less than perfect gardens; they are never apologetic, but take pleasure in sharing what they have and retelling of what they accomplished. Parental expectations and educational background aside, I thought how wonderful life would be if I could concentrate on what I did get done and stop being apologetic about what I didn't, or how the outcome differred to what I had expected.
My parental expectations and educational/occupational background made me critical/cynical. I don't know if this is my perception or the truth, but I lived in environments where the critical eye was a mark of alertness, even intelligence. And a defense mechanism. I have opinions, and I marked my existence by asserting them, and because I was reasonably good at it, from time to time I received better grades as a student than I deserved, (or so I thought but now looking back, my grades are crap!) and it served me well in some of my past jobs. It became my modus operandi.
Pluck me out of my familiar world, plunk me into this aft/craft one: I don't even make an accurate critic, but I'm an excellent pointer-outer-of-what's-wrong, and not an optimist. On reflection I don't often come up with remedies for mistakes, but can dish out long lists what not to do the next time.
Granted, I've worked hard these last years so I do work incrementally, I can take process into consideration, even be intrigued by it sometimes, I can take in the new, the different, the other. (And may I say, your company certainly help me progress.) I often fret I am the most joyless weaver when it comes to my own finished work, but I'm finally, finally seeing the bad side of perfectionism.
(Mind the Stream of Consciousness Crack)
I can nor will never belong to the "everything is wonderful" school. I will never simply match yarns with a structure; I aspire to weave pieces that cannot be replicated from a recipe in the first instance, participating alone will never been sufficient, and I won't shy away from saying this out loud. I want to always look at my own work with a standard I set, and I'd like it to be on the high side. (Though it's come down a few notches lately.) I probably can never shed this innate cynicism, (yes, I said innate; have you met my Dad?, but I would like to stop admonishing the fun-loving optimist to make this road a little smoother; I need to practice being a maker and a critic at different and appropriate times.
In the case of recent straitjacket situation in the drawing class: no, I don't like small gesture drawing; yes, I will try anything as instructed; but blow me away, even in drawing I now know what I like to do not based on uspicions of the unknown or the untried, but because I've done some. And any kind of a self-knowledge is good. With drawing, this is a milestone as thus far I only tried to follow direction and live in the moment. Come to think of it, I am a Terrible Two in drawing with one week left in the first of four terms of my third year. So, what? Sit tight, but eventually grow out of it?
As regards my difficulty with the book "Women who Run with Wolves", that I can't make sense out of it, that the writing is too wordy, I perceive as failing intellectually not because I see myself as intellectual, but because in my art/craft life I've often been told I'm overintellectualizing, when in fact verbose would have been more accurate. (You 'd think I'd love the book, then, wouldn't you?)
Not understanding the point of this book meant I am loosing one propensity before gaining another; it made me feel stupid without being blissfully ignorant in a Nirvana way. That many women artists I admire loved the book make this event feel like non-admittance to a club I longed to belong. Annabelle, the classmate in drawing who finally got me to buy the book and who enjoys Jung, posited I'm passed the stage that needs this book. I've thought of that but I'm included to disagree because I'm not in Nirvana. I feel so in-between, neither intelligent enough nor instinctive enough.
Interim Conclusion:
1) Perfectionism = pessimism
Optimism = celebrating accomplishments = enjoyment = good.
2) Self-knowledge = good; pride = bad.
3) Stationary perspective/settled persona = bad.
Flux = inevitable and embracing this eliminates anguish = closer to enjoyment.
(Stream of Consciousness Return to Origin)
Regarding the garden, well, I'm resigned to the fact we won't get much done. Pity, as the time is now to plant/transplant with all this rain. Not so deep down, I know we won't be spending too much time outside on weekends, either, so our place will be a mess again come another glorious Nelson summer. I'll do what I can manage, and the heavy stuff, I'll pay professionals to come help me. We'll all be happier this way.
2010/06/28
Straitjacket
I haven't enjoyed my drawing class at all this term, mainly because we've been working very small, (A4 at the largest), but these last few weeks we've been working on small gestural drawing, which sounds self-contradictory.
Two weeks ago, we did a lot of erase/draw in 1/4 of A4, in durations between one and five minutes. The more time I had, the more I fiddled.
I've been working mostly on gessoed textile, for which I can only use chalk pastels to erase, and I find the results so dissatisfying. What Ronette is trying to get us to do, drawing the unexpected in small scale, and my wanting to make the most of the textures and designs of the textile, is not melding. The one on the left above is the only one I thought I could work on some more, our of a dozen in the last two weeks.
Ronette doesn't like my lack of color mixing, the way I erase, or that I erased with my hands not the erase; she even showed me how to erase on a drawing I was working on, which became a bit too much on Friday, I started to feel physically sick.
Others are also taping around the gesso, gessoing on collage, gessoing over multiple colors of acrylic, etc., but these feels old, no something I want to revisit now. Some students are getting superb results, some are as puzzled as I am, but I seem to be the only one genuinely unhappy.
I think the point of going to classes is learn new ways of doing things; I think in weaving and drawing I've been open to new ideas in the last two years. And my conclusion is, I must try new things to see what suits me, to discover what I like. And for now, I tried small gestural drawings, and they are so not me. Not one bit.
Next Friday is the last day of this term; Ronette promised we'll work a tad bigger next term. I wonder if I should be a renegade and prepare a few A1 sheets.
EDIT: The top photo is in focus. It's the drawings that are not.
Two weeks ago, we did a lot of erase/draw in 1/4 of A4, in durations between one and five minutes. The more time I had, the more I fiddled.
I've been working mostly on gessoed textile, for which I can only use chalk pastels to erase, and I find the results so dissatisfying. What Ronette is trying to get us to do, drawing the unexpected in small scale, and my wanting to make the most of the textures and designs of the textile, is not melding. The one on the left above is the only one I thought I could work on some more, our of a dozen in the last two weeks. Ronette doesn't like my lack of color mixing, the way I erase, or that I erased with my hands not the erase; she even showed me how to erase on a drawing I was working on, which became a bit too much on Friday, I started to feel physically sick.
Others are also taping around the gesso, gessoing on collage, gessoing over multiple colors of acrylic, etc., but these feels old, no something I want to revisit now. Some students are getting superb results, some are as puzzled as I am, but I seem to be the only one genuinely unhappy.
I think the point of going to classes is learn new ways of doing things; I think in weaving and drawing I've been open to new ideas in the last two years. And my conclusion is, I must try new things to see what suits me, to discover what I like. And for now, I tried small gestural drawings, and they are so not me. Not one bit.
Next Friday is the last day of this term; Ronette promised we'll work a tad bigger next term. I wonder if I should be a renegade and prepare a few A1 sheets.
EDIT: The top photo is in focus. It's the drawings that are not.
2010/06/27
Laundry
I've been mesmerized by this series of clips from a Roberto di Simone's "La Gatta Cenerentola" (a Napoletana version of "Cinderella") production this weekend. I love the Mediterranean voice, the elaborate costumes and the set, I even love the dances.
Who knew doing the laundry could be so melancholic?
Or exciting?
I have no idea where this fits in, though it is about a suicide!
I love the dance, and I don't often pay attention to dances; the musical composition is closer to what I associate with Italian opera.
Or the way the head cover dances like birds.
And the monotony of the rosary; this one puts me right back into my uncle's house next door, or Classroom 207, staying behind for the obligatory religious studies for all us baptized Catholics in school - about 5 out of 130 girls in each year. We never had this much "noise".
Nor broke into merry singing!
Huh?
I cannot get over the visual beauty of this scene - so very Italian!
Not sure what's happening here.
The conclusion of the play.
And yes, there is heaps more on YouTube.
di Simone's "La Gatta Cenerentola" in Italian Wiki
di Simone based his production on the story by Giambattista Basile in English Wiki
Canzone Napoletana in English Wiki
Unfortunately, I understand there is no DVD of this production available. Thank you for your help, Doni.
Who knew doing the laundry could be so melancholic?
Or exciting?
I have no idea where this fits in, though it is about a suicide!
I love the dance, and I don't often pay attention to dances; the musical composition is closer to what I associate with Italian opera.
Or the way the head cover dances like birds.
And the monotony of the rosary; this one puts me right back into my uncle's house next door, or Classroom 207, staying behind for the obligatory religious studies for all us baptized Catholics in school - about 5 out of 130 girls in each year. We never had this much "noise".
Nor broke into merry singing!
Huh?
I cannot get over the visual beauty of this scene - so very Italian!
Not sure what's happening here.
The conclusion of the play.
And yes, there is heaps more on YouTube.
di Simone's "La Gatta Cenerentola" in Italian Wiki
di Simone based his production on the story by Giambattista Basile in English Wiki
Canzone Napoletana in English Wiki
Unfortunately, I understand there is no DVD of this production available. Thank you for your help, Doni.
2010/06/26
Saturday Daydreaming: What Kind of Motif Next?
Pressed Metal on the side of the roof above the entrance to Marlborough Weavers' meeting room in Brayshaw Park, Blenheim. Because of the brick red color, from a distance I thought it would have a Maori motif.
2010/06/25
Must See
Do please have a look at Cally's yardage which was accepted into a Convergence exhibition this year.
2010/06/24
Whoa!
I haven't been in a reading mode, so I haven't read anything on gardening or vegetable growing as I had intended, but weeding, and thinking, in a very unthinking kind of a way. I'll tell you more about it when I discover what it is I'm thinking. It has to do with perfectionism, living life easily, and half-full/half-empty attitudes.
* * * * *
There have been some interesting blog posts, which have been left open on my browser for a while, but I can't seem to read words. You know how it is with me; I'm a sucker for photos but you'd have to tie me to my chair to make me read text, on screen. I'm sure I'll get around to reading them some time.
So what's with the term "Art Yarn"? June 7, on StoneLeafMoom
Speaking of Craft, on t'katch
Considering Craftsmanship, on Existential Neighborhood
The Art of Craft, on Fiber Art Calls for Entry
And just when you thought I might go to the dark side, there is Life is Good, on t'katch again.
I finished my fifth, last, class in the pattern making workshop Stage 1: Theory tonight. Everybody was asking everybody else who's coming back for Stage 2: Skirts. I blurted out to this tall young woman that I have body size issues and thought I was terribly interested, I couldn't commit. She rapidly asked a series of questions, helping me asses the pros and cons, and the last questions did it for me: "Do you like sewing? Do you like wearing things you've made?" And the answers were resounding yeses. So I signed up.
It turns out she is a psychologist that works at our local hospital. I kid you not; I couldn't make up a story if I tired. But it was so quick and painless, and though I will still cringe when it comes to measuring time, (and I will sit far, far away from the cute, svelte teenagers,) I'll learn more interesting things.
I might have three or four weeks to reduce my stomach size a bit before the skirt class, though.
* * * * *
There have been some interesting blog posts, which have been left open on my browser for a while, but I can't seem to read words. You know how it is with me; I'm a sucker for photos but you'd have to tie me to my chair to make me read text, on screen. I'm sure I'll get around to reading them some time.
So what's with the term "Art Yarn"? June 7, on StoneLeafMoom
Speaking of Craft, on t'katch
Considering Craftsmanship, on Existential Neighborhood
The Art of Craft, on Fiber Art Calls for Entry
And just when you thought I might go to the dark side, there is Life is Good, on t'katch again.
I finished my fifth, last, class in the pattern making workshop Stage 1: Theory tonight. Everybody was asking everybody else who's coming back for Stage 2: Skirts. I blurted out to this tall young woman that I have body size issues and thought I was terribly interested, I couldn't commit. She rapidly asked a series of questions, helping me asses the pros and cons, and the last questions did it for me: "Do you like sewing? Do you like wearing things you've made?" And the answers were resounding yeses. So I signed up.It turns out she is a psychologist that works at our local hospital. I kid you not; I couldn't make up a story if I tired. But it was so quick and painless, and though I will still cringe when it comes to measuring time, (and I will sit far, far away from the cute, svelte teenagers,) I'll learn more interesting things.
I might have three or four weeks to reduce my stomach size a bit before the skirt class, though.
2010/06/23
What's on My Mind?
Not weaving, exactly.
Not just veggie gardening, but gardening in general. Massive weeding, to be exact, but I like being outside this time of the year. Some (many?) days it's much warmer than inside the house. We live in a strange house where we can't see our own garden from most parts of the house, except the kitchen and my stash room. Still, I keep dreaming of something like Pat's office.
Not just veggie gardening, but gardening in general. Massive weeding, to be exact, but I like being outside this time of the year. Some (many?) days it's much warmer than inside the house. We live in a strange house where we can't see our own garden from most parts of the house, except the kitchen and my stash room. Still, I keep dreaming of something like Pat's office.
2010/06/22
Garments and Fabric: Part 2: Words of Wisdom
June, on cutting and curves:
June, Jenny, Joan, Rose, and everybody else who have made a garment before: Always cut/fit/alter the pattern first because it changes how much fabric you need to weave!
- Stay stick before cutting/overlocking.
- Use small stitches.
- Don't be too diligent in cutting the wedges around a curve; the fabric will stretch.
- Length: make jacket and vest length no longer than the bottom of the bottom/tush, unless going full length.
- Avoid double-breasted designs.
- Stick to the vertical.
- Use dark colors for the larger parts. If you are bosomy, use darker colors on your top; if you are bottomy, on your bottom.
- Elongate the neck/collar area; avoid horizontal opening.
- Use simple sleeve shapes.
- Classical, nicely-cut, tailored designs look best.
June, Jenny, Joan, Rose, and everybody else who have made a garment before: Always cut/fit/alter the pattern first because it changes how much fabric you need to weave!
Garments and Fabric: Part 1
We went to this month's Marlborough Weavers' meeting on Saturday. Although we arrived an hour late, and I forgot my pattern on the kitchen counter. No matter, there was great amount to be learned, and more to be reminded of.
Sue the Sewing Guru who was recruited to the occasion is fitting a felted garment. I thought, "Yeah, easy for felters," and considered how far I would be willing to felt a woven fabric in the wet finish.
Sure enough, Joan had made a zip-up jacket made of woven-then-wet-finished/felted fabric which worked as well as a felted (never woven) fabric.
June McKenzie showed me how far the woven fabric front's seam allowance extends in different parts of the vest.
She doesn't hesitate cutting into floats like these, and with lining, creates successful garments.
I liked the wide side panels on Chris's vest; we can weave narrower cloths, create contrast, and I even know how to make the seams curve on both sides of the panel so there is none in the middle.
Alternatively, we can construct garments using commercial fabric in the difficult parts and handwoven cloth in the flat/square areas. Rose used up her warp ends this way.
Judy reminded me I can also weave different structures or with different wefts to create contrast fabric; something I've always dreamed of doing, but had totally forgotten since I started worrying about construction. I've been in email communication with Judy for over as long as we've had the Marlborough Weavers blog, but it was the first time I met her. Nice!
(Husband was on the lookout for something he might ask me to make, or something that makes me feel a little more at ease about cutting my cloths.)
This ought to tell you I am not, as a general rule, concerned about clothes, but still, nice to imagine wearing something that came off my loom. Besides, when shaped unconventionally, I feel it's not a bad thing to put a bit of effort into looking nicer, you know. But I said that already, didn't I?
We didn't have to, but we overnighted in Blenheim because Ben has two weeks off and it was the start of his holidays. We stumbled upon Japan vs. the Netherlands in our motel, (we don't have Sky/cable at home so can't watch non-NZ games), and it was fun texting my sister in Japan while watching the same game.
Sue the Sewing Guru who was recruited to the occasion is fitting a felted garment. I thought, "Yeah, easy for felters," and considered how far I would be willing to felt a woven fabric in the wet finish.
Sure enough, Joan had made a zip-up jacket made of woven-then-wet-finished/felted fabric which worked as well as a felted (never woven) fabric.
June McKenzie showed me how far the woven fabric front's seam allowance extends in different parts of the vest.
She doesn't hesitate cutting into floats like these, and with lining, creates successful garments.
I liked the wide side panels on Chris's vest; we can weave narrower cloths, create contrast, and I even know how to make the seams curve on both sides of the panel so there is none in the middle.
Alternatively, we can construct garments using commercial fabric in the difficult parts and handwoven cloth in the flat/square areas. Rose used up her warp ends this way.
Judy reminded me I can also weave different structures or with different wefts to create contrast fabric; something I've always dreamed of doing, but had totally forgotten since I started worrying about construction. I've been in email communication with Judy for over as long as we've had the Marlborough Weavers blog, but it was the first time I met her. Nice!
(Husband was on the lookout for something he might ask me to make, or something that makes me feel a little more at ease about cutting my cloths.)This ought to tell you I am not, as a general rule, concerned about clothes, but still, nice to imagine wearing something that came off my loom. Besides, when shaped unconventionally, I feel it's not a bad thing to put a bit of effort into looking nicer, you know. But I said that already, didn't I?
We didn't have to, but we overnighted in Blenheim because Ben has two weeks off and it was the start of his holidays. We stumbled upon Japan vs. the Netherlands in our motel, (we don't have Sky/cable at home so can't watch non-NZ games), and it was fun texting my sister in Japan while watching the same game.
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