Epic Fail / Joy!

My first pleat sample was an epic fail. It looked  better just off the loom, but washed and dried, nada. It doesn't even show the weave pattern in real life, although it looked a proper two-faced twill on the loom. The right half is 24EPI, the left is 21; bottom was beaten softly with about 1mm between picks, the top portion "snug". And the weft is so skinny I almost can't see it under artificial light. But the worst part is, this warp is scratchy and it needs taming with good merino, so I'm modifying the threading, resleying at between 18EPI and 20, and making a normal, unpleated piece. I'm not having any luck with my gifts-to-friends, am I?

Terri and hubby Alan Bibby came to visit me today; they've been touring the South Island and I've kept abreast of their travels her fb profile, but it was lovely of them to stop by. (With warning, of course.) Needless to say, the conversation focused on weaving and her thoughts on Saori weaving, (as I imagined, she's utterly genuine about the message of peace associated with her weaving and has woven in some very interesting places/context,) but also about photography, her hubby being a professional photographer and a documentary maker. He told me my pantsed camera is a really good camera. Thank you for a lovely, lovely afternoon and safe travels!

There may be a picture of us appearing on her blog. (I, of course, was too busy talking.) Alan took some pics of me, and I'm not sure if it was part of a project of his, collecting images of decaying, changing things. LOL.

Sunny Saturday / Slow Project

I was cross because I wanted to go to the Nelson march of the nationwide Anti-TPPA protest day. I had signed up for it a few days ago and even though I'd had stomach problems yesterday, I'd hoped I'd be alright by 1PM. But I couldn't go. For about 24 hours I had such discomfort from time to time I had to lie on the floor! Not pain, but discomfort. Doubly strange because I haven't eaten wheat in several weeks. But it seem to have disappeared just as suddenly as it came. Boo hoo.

I've been thinking about a commission project. It's for Mom's former neighbor. The client keeps calling it my "tapestry", even though I explained to her a couple of times I don't do tapestries, not even wall hangings. But since she's seen enough of my pieces, Mom and I figured she knows the style of cloth I can make, but intends to decorate her house with it anyway. 

This is how far I've gotten.

This is the draft, a modified version of Triona's scarf. Here you see a full warp repeat and a little less than one-third weft repeat, but it's pretty regular so you get the idea.

After several sittings of selecting and editing by the stairway, I used eight colors of 2/20 mercerized cotton and nine 2/60; the color/size distribution is straight forward; A-B-A-B-A.

This is what the chains look like.

I've got a whole bunch of weft candidates, as well as sup warp and wefts, but I don't know much else about it. It's unusual I don't have a mental end picture to work towards, but I'm enjoying this new, building-up kind of making. But this warp won't go on the loom for a wee while.

A Year of Remembering

Back in August I had the 19th anniversary of weaving for the first time and the 10th of having left my last paying job. 20 years ago today we came to New Zealand, after a few days in Fiji with another friend, ostensibly to have a break from crowded lives in Japan and Ben's work, but still on his work-offered scheme to brush up on his English. (This is us on our last night in Fiji.) A month later, when he had the chance for voluntary retirement, he took it. Later this month we'll have our 18th anniversary for residency; before Christmas 18th of moving to Nelson, next January 18th of moving into this house, (longest I've lived in one place,) and the end of April our 25th.

Even though I worked for a wonderful Kiwi in Tokyo for a year and got to know his family, and even though Ben and I holidayed for a fortnight two years before we came here, I look back in astonishment how little we knew what we were getting into. 

It's been, errr, life-changing; no more of Ben's 100-hour work weeks or 18 consecutive no-weekends, or even my 12-hour days; he can indulge in hobbies and, goodness gracious me, I am a weaver. There have been downsides, of course: we weren't part of our nieces and nephews growing up, (but that seems not so important now they're in their teens, the last being 8-going-on-26,) we weren't readily available to our parents when they needed us, and then there is the garden.

But all in all life has been kind; we've become more independent people, making up our own rules and solutions to problems, and more capable of carrying them out. And Nelson is not only beautiful, but the climate is mild and I appreciate it more as I get older. But most of all, I would have never been a weaver had I not come to New Zealand, to Nelson.

So take it with 1/4 teaspoon of salt when I complain about the triviality of my small life. They are real to me, but don't even make "miniscule" in this world.

(Except the part about good New Zealand merino being way too expensive, if milled in NZ at all, and we can't get with-scale NZ merino; these are national tragedies.)

Thank you for being here, and sharing this day. I appreciate your friendship. Always.

Practicing

 

I can't help it. I like these airy fairy shots, so it's where I started, but I am practicing picture more towards product shots for our do. I find white balance, colors and lighting terribly difficult. And the discrepancy between the colors on my LCD vs computer screens, not to mention the different computer screens in this house. And then there's the lint and wrinkles I keep finding after I think I got a great shot. 

I read the manual up to Page 151 of 226 where initial setup and photo-taking options were covered. Taking pictures is called "recording" in this booklet. The rest appeared to be about looking at the photos on the LCD or editing, ergo unnecessary for now as I do this on the computer. But now I see the last 42 pages are on "Other" things; maybe later.

I'm not sure what I expected, but the manual was all about the bells and whistles on this tiny camera, not about good photo-taking, which from memory is quite different from the first good film camera I bought in 1984. It was an Olympus OM-II chosen for the size/weight and the fabulous Zuiko lenses; I recently parted with it because a couple of electronic things had gone wrong and the cost to repair was much, much more than a descent digital. The idea of parting was sad at first, but I need to declutter and I don't get attached to things much. I hope it went to a kind person.

I practiced a lot of film photography since childhood and spent a lot of allowance on "just in case" shots. When I first started digital photography, I was so happy I could take an almost unlimited number of pictures. Then I got used to autofocus; I always focused manually with film. Then I reluctantly got into digital editing of photos, (I used to think this was cheating,) and my photo-taking got sloppy. The proliferation of great photos on the Internet made me feel digital cameras, phones and whatever-pads enabled anyone to take good photos immediately and always. So why practice. 

About the same time I noticed I wasn't looking at photos as photos but at the subjects within. I don't know what caused this, but I needed to step back and consciously look at the photo as a whole. This isn't surprising because I've always been a "tree" person rather than a "forest" one, but I had to look a long time and think a while before I decided if a photo was a good one. And I stopped taking photos except to illustrate this blog. Or family pics. 

On one hand, I couldn't be bothered putting in the effort to practice good digital photography because the camera did it for me, (though it really didn't,) and if not I could edit it, (which I really couldn't.) On the other, Dad got me interested in photography when I was about nine, so you could say it's been a life-long interest, albeit sporadic, and it's one of the things both Ben and I are interested in. So I've been trying to rekindle my enthusiasm for photography for a few years to no great avail. I do spend so much time thinking about, looking at, and working on textiles, (except when I'm sidetracked with drawing, mixed media, or, ahem, the garden,) I don't have head space to think about good photography. I need a clean calendar and a wide mental berth to learn things.

This is how Ben got me a new-to-me camera early this year, enabling me to take close-up textile shots to my heart's content. Except it came with a digital manual, and when I complained, he printed me whopping 256 pages. He told me it has great an aperture-priority mode, I can focus manually, or modify the auto-focus. He might have said more, but the rest was all blah-blah. I learned how to shoot with aperture-priority mode, but otherwise it sat prettily on the bookshelf. I was happy with my tiny camera.

I bought the silver Panasonic DMC-FX01, new, in August 2006 partly for Nelson Daily Photo, (which I started but abandoned in a year or two and left it to Ben to kill or continue,) another defunct blog, and Unravelling. Almost all pics taken by me since that fatal day have been taken on this, even this week; I know the settings well I can use this camera without looking at it. The cute one with brown leather pants is the new-to-me Panasonic DMC-LX7.

Both being on the smaller end of Panasonic, Ben, having read the online information beforehand, thought they are similar enough I'd start using Pants right away. I'm sure they are similar compared to other ones in Ben's collection, but to me Pants had so many additional options I was overwhelmed. And didn't want it. Plus, the colors on this LCD is quite different from the computer screens. But having read a sufficient portion of the manual, I see Ben was right again and all I needed was to know how to shoot with aperture-priority and manually.

And I found the blank A1 drawing papers under the bed, underneath everything else.

PS That he gets much more accurate colors on his cameras is a testament to his patience and skills. Though he does have nice ones.

Washed

"Bubblegum Ice Cream" (They do exist, though I've ever had any.) I fulled more fully than usual, which deconstructed the bouclé weft, which made this looks messy and a little tired/used, but the fringes are nice. It's a cute, practical piece, and a nice size at 70cm * 188cm and it's mighty good it was woven very large at around 84.5cm in the reed and 2m long. 

I counted the picks of the Dornick twill to make it consistent, but you can't see the twill unless you look for it. I haven't decided if I'll take this to the gallery or save it for my online store.

And the VIP Blanket, 72cm * 125cm. If I had 50cm more, this would have made a more attractive piece than the BGIC. The weft is darker in value than seen here, but it's surprising how blue it looks when interlaced with pink. I was reminded why I gave up on possum mixes; it sheds and I'm never sure when to stop rinsing, which no doubt will continue until all the possum fur is gone?? This was in a irregularly-numbered Dornick, and possibly already sold.

* * * * *

I've read 144 pages of the 222 of my camera manual, and I learned that I don't need to know most of t he stuff I read nor most of the function available, but haven't started practicing yet. I think "Lament" is going to be the most photogenic, but it could be just my taste; I'll never know until I try others, too.

Lament

I never name warp-end stuff I might wear or cut up and make something out of, but here it is. "Lament", because I couldn't make a gift to a deserving friend, and I lament the passing of his mother and my dad which happened at around the same time. It's 121cm plus fringes. I'm glad I didn't stick to my guns and weave the requisite 170-180cm because this piece is loaded with problems. Plus I'm trying out loose/soft fringes to go with the cashmere but these were too loose. Plus I didn't have very hot hot water while washing. Perhaps I should call it "Murphy's Scarf".

I do like the cashmere/silk weft on different grays, but particularly where there's contrast in sheen at the lighter end. At 18EPI, the hand is rather delicious. And Ben likes the draft. It's all wrinkled because Ben's been wearing it this morning. No weaver is going to be allowed near it, though.

This shows about one-thirds of the draft, but it changes very slightly. This five-(not six)-gray warp was supposed to make two gifts. Below was the plan for a Thank You gift to my sparky, (electrician,) for helping me with the big pillar install over two years ago; I was going to use an icy pale blue in the weft. This shows about a quarter of the draft, but it too only changes slightly.  

I think these drafts will be resurrected; as you can see they are similar but I tried to convey different moods. And I have another friend whose mother passed last year, but he's more a cotton-in-all-brilliant-colors kinda guy. At least none of them knows I am making anything for them.

The threading mistake in this warp, now on Jack, is corrected. If it were wool, I would have cut off the bad bits, but because it is the expensive cashmere, I unpicked, rethreaded, resleyed, and changed the design a bit. The weft is still the white silk mix.

The Photo Thing

I need a name. For the do. Any ideas?

There is no due date for signing up; you only need to email me on/around November 14/15 with the link to our exhibition post, or before that if you are going to be away and scheduled your post so I'll remember to come around.

I'd still like a snappy name, though, so whether you're taking part or not, can you help me, please?

Please leave suggestions in the comment for everybody to see, even if Blogger continues to eat comments. Thank you very much.

EDIT: I keep forgetting to add this link, but remember you can break any rules you want. I would add you don't need an expensive camera, and cropping is a quick way to bring the cloth to attention.

And in the Next Little While Part Due (or Seconda Parte)

I wanted a counter/abacus on my loom so I went to get some beads; the lovely lady suggested the $15/bag deal; as long as they fitted, the bag didn't even have to close. She taped the bag shut for me, though after I've chosen resin beads. 

Ben recommended yarns, but so I could thread through the tiny holes I opted for the skinniest elastic, which sagged!

So I did as Ben said.

I saw Brian the osteopath; we figured out my hip problems stems from a fall I had in July 2006, (he pointed to where I landed, which I had forgotten,) aggravated by a series of difficult warps as Jean the physio figured. Because I carried this for eight years it'll take a while, but Brian is confident we can fix it. He's so busy, though, I had to wait seven weeks to see him, and my next appointment is at the start of December.

We also discussed Ayurveda for my weight, and when I told him I needed a new GP he recommended me his own. I was able to meet Dr Karl the GP that afternoon, who, among other things, recommended I look into fasting every other day! I enrolled with his practice anyway as this doctor listens and he is interested. Meanwhile, Brian says I can keep doing what I've been doing as long as I'm not hurting. It'll take time and money, I'm still limping and fat, but I'm feeling positive about the hip and general health.

I went to the library while I waited for Ben; for no reason, I started looking at textile art books, and noticed a big change; instead of feeling as though I have to make similarly strange things, I now see what others make in a more detached way, and wonder what I would do as a weaver in a more independent way. In fact, I've felt very comfortably being a weaver for a while, which is a bonus considering I spend a lot of time and energy being one.

Ben's been working on the candy car and it's sat in the middle of the garage all week so I couldn't get the tub out to wash the two from the bubblegum/lollipop warp. That's for next week.  

Today I had a great idea of weaving the gray piece to 150cm so I might wear it even if I can't gift it, but faced with fine-tuning the tension once again, I couldn't be bothered and cut it off; I have 120cm and a bit so I still might be able to wear it. After much mending.

The warp was gingerly transferred to Jack, threaded in Dornick twill, but boo hoo after about 70 picks, in spite of checking it twice, I found a threading mistake. Tomorrow. Or next week.

And on the big loom I wound the first pleat warp; this is going to be a bit dusty and itchy warp to handle but it washes up nicely, so I shall persevere.

And in the Next Little While Part Uno

I wove two pieces in two days. This is great considering these may have been the widest in the reed I've ever woven. I wove standing up, stepping on the treadles deep in the loom to yank the sheds open, used the heavy shuttle, and bent over with my nose practically in the cloth to throw and catch. It was about 84cm/33". I kept drawing a caricature of myself in that wonderful Australia description, "flat out like a lizard drinking".

I felt good having finished two in two days as I hadn't done this in several years, but I was dissatisfied with the results; they are too simple, Dornick twill in both directions at different intervals. Plus, I used so much warp in the first (bottom) piece the second isn't long enough to be a wrap, so I'm calling it a VIP blanket, for a Very Important Pet. I have to hem it before I can wash both.

Although I was going to put on the other cute warp on Jack in an undulating twill immediately, I haven'; I'm staring at the big loom and the difficult gray warp again.

I watched the two Interweave vids by Laura Fry. With The Efficient Weaver, I was pleasantly surprised how much I discovered on my own through trial and error, making the most of the space, equipment and body I have, and ended up doing things "right", especially on the big loom. I don't do everything like Laura, (oh the speed of weaving,) but I'm working on many similar principles. 

My big problem is I'm a short person weaving on normal person's looms. The big one is operated with an air compressor pedal, so we were able to calibrated it to almost optimal from the start, raising the pedal and the seat, and other than me getting on/off the high bench with some difficulty, it works well.

The treadle-operated Jack is a problem. I sometimes weave standing up; this is slow but does not present problems for the body. If I sit as weavers usually sit on the bench, my upper body is a little too low to see/throw comfortably but the legs/feet are a little too high for the treadles; I can work like this with narrow warps but not with wide ones. Sometimes I stand and lean on the bench but that's a little precarious as I'm never sure how much weight I can put on it. Ben built the bench exactly the height I asked and for years I experimented with cushions, distance from the treadles, angles, etc, but I haven't found the solution. Except to cut the loom so the cloth is lower and closer to the treadles, but that's a delicate operation we've been unwilling to undertake.

All this wouldn't be a problem if I don't have moral conundra and keep weaving on the big loom one after another.

Wet Finishing for Weavers was different from what I expected; I imagined seeing one (wool?) piece coming off the loom and worked till the end (pressing/drying?), and details for different fibers explained/shown/added, but perhaps because of the space constraints, it was a little abbreviated with tubs on tables. Still I'm very interested in wet finishing and Laura is the only weaver I know who talks about it, so it was fun. I especially enjoyed watcing Laura brushing mohair.

Again, I don't do things like Laura, and I've been trying to recall how I settled on the current wet-finish routines, but with wool, my first fiber, I made many phone calls to Mom and fine-tuned though trial and error. Although I got full approval from ex-teachers of the local weaving school, I'm not sure if all my wool prevents my fingers from poking through; I might have to dig out old samples, (finished the same way) and give them a go.

On Sunday, Sam, Annabelle and I went to Human Fruit Bowl and drew. The play part was very enjoyable, and the actress/model was very good but none of us could get the proportion of her head/face right, which was interesting. 

This Week, In No Particular Order

I finished the bag exteriors on the RH, and now wonder what I'm going to do with all the diverse and rather numerous bag exteriors I've not accumulated.

I made a bunch of butterflies with the colors Pat gave me, but disliked anything I wove on the frame looms I took everything out. I now have two warped frames staring at me. And making the butterflies gave me a full-blown hay fever, which had until then been deliciously dormant. 

I've also been wondering if I should experiment with tapestry techniques on the Jack loom, but couldn't resist putting on the Lollipop and Bubblegum warp instead. I need to restock the gallery (note single noun; more below and in another post.) I feel... ummm, what do I feel... disappointed with myself that this is a simple twill, as though I'm not trying hard enough. But when I went downstairs to cut off the many-grays piece, I still liked it so much I thought maybe I could weave another 50cm of it. So the cute warp won't turn into wow pieces.

The idea of putting my name on non-wows troubles me; is it pride, aspiration, frustrations with indecision, or a struggle between productivity vs creativity? Can I only wow myself by weaving fussy drafts?

Laura pondered a related subject. Nowadays I'm in the minority lamenting perfection getting a bad wrap. For me it's part of dumbing down of everything, of patting ourselves on our backs for participating. For me it's a no brainer beause it is I who disappoint: my skills, physique, knowledge, memory, or relying on memory and not checking. Even though I see the merit in working more spontaneously, especially its therapeutic effects, (which is why I play around with drawing and mixed media,) it's not for me when I weave, particularly when making utilitarian merchandises, which my weaving is. Maybe it's a Japanese thing.

Although wow factor I look for is not the same as perfection. It's more! Oh, and I missed the train-of-though connection.

I've also been thinking of photographing textiles. I can put together words to describe what I hope to see, but what about how I photograph? I like close-ups with shallow depth of field; I enjoy shooting them, and I enjoy looking at them. It's not that I don't try bigger whole-piece shots, but I'm not good with those, so I thought I might give them a go. I don't have a whole lot of my weaving, either; ones I have are cotton pieces representing issues I need to consider. A new piece would give me another option. Which is why I put the cute warp on Jack.

There's been another bad news for Nelson's visual arts; details will be posted soon. It means I have only The Suter as my outlet now and first I want to restock them, but then I will have to consider an online shop. Finally. Where I would need the overall-look pics.

This week has been an awkward physical-and-mental pacing week, but now that I've written this much, things seem to have found their own places. Without my help. And they are loosely connected? Goodness me.