and i've variously used it [the fungus, not the scarf] at home with rainwater to make yellow and brown [in non-reactive vessels] and purple [in a milo tin]
while tidying up after the workshop at Wattle Point i simply stacked the 'tea bag' containing the cooked fungus on top of the sample landskin muffler i had made to show the class the steps. the muffler had been sitting in an aluminium bowl with a bit of salty lagoon water and a few dogspikes purloined from the trackside on my way thither [demonstrating a means of pre-mordanting].
i hadn't wanted to hurl the dyestuff because it still had great potential. waste not, want not.
an hour or so later i looked under the bag, saw the muffler with bright yellow stains on it [see prior post] but beginning to brown slightly at the edges. then i pootled off to sit on the jetty with a glass of red bubble-water to enjoy the lapping waves, the dimming light and the myriad jellyfish wobbling along under the surface.
when i returned to continue my packing i absentmindedly hurled the muffler into the washing machine to spin out the drippy stuff. sloshing things are tricky to transport [don't worry, i have that tea-bag safe]. you can imagine my surprise when it came out more pink than brown.
the woolly bits didn't pick up colour [wool needs warmth to dye] but the silk certainly did. not quite sure what's happening here chemically, but there's a similarity with coreopsis dyes...they turn pink with added alkali. on the other hand no alkali was added here, so it could be the effect of oxidisation, methinks.
oh and another note about fungi...i always thought this one was the mature version of the puffballs we used to cook with butter, salt and pepper and happily told my students, however according to this website that might not be the case!
definitely not, if you read this! mea culpa.
|detail of the landskin muffler|
incorporating a smattering of Jude's interweaving of fabric
[pop over to Spirit Cloth on the side bar to see where that can go]