musing over the dyepots

I'm told a program broadcast by the ABC recently allegedly claimed that ecoprint bundling is a practice originating from and belonging to indigenous Australian culture. The truth is that it is derived from Latvian Easter Egg dyeing, a pagan tradition pre-dating Christianity, involving the wrapping of hens eggs with plant matter followed by boiling them in a pot full of onionskins and water. I transposed it to cloth (experimenting with steaming as well as boiling) substituting eucalyptus leaves for onionshells. They smell a good deal nicer, for one thing.

As far as I know metal pots, as well as woven wool and silk, only came to this country with the European invasion of 1788 (other than accidental arrival via shipwreck) and it wasn't until they became available that eucalyptus leaves could be boiled in water to reveal their extraordinary colour potential, now in such demand whirled-wide.

But maybe I'm wrong.  Perhaps metal pots were salvaged from the shipwrecks that occurred along the West Australian coast from 1622 onwards (though that first one, the Tryall, was quite a distance offshore). If you have information I'd be very interested to read it, especially if you can back it up with references. Dye history fascinates me.

I have a theory that dye traditions around the planet follow traditional regional cooking practices quite closely...for example the slow-brewed indigo of Japan relating to their fermenting of foods, the soup-like dye extraction traditionally used in Europe and the stone-ground ochres and stains of indigenous Australians that echoed the ground pastes of seeds that formed part of their diet. The absence of boiled food in aboriginal cooking pre 1788 seems to be a clue about dyes.

I'm not being picky, I really want to know.

re-treat to Tin Can Bay

seven days ago i fell out of bed at 4am to catch an early flight to Queensland where i was met at the airport, given a cosy corner in a comfy back seat and (between snoozing and waking and a delicious lunch) transported further north. 

by the time we reached Tin Can Bay i had been very firmly asleep (and quite possibly making bear noises) for at least twenty minutes - waking/arriving and wandering across to this view had a rather dreamlike quality to it

it was Roz's idea to offer a retreat at Tin Can Bay - she's been familiar with the area for over thirty years, so her offering to share the magic was particularly kind. i had only been there once before, for one night some five years ago. this was to be as big an adventure for me as for the others who joined us there.

i've long had an affinity for tidal areas but have come away with a new love...mangroves.

 everything about them is beautiful...the way their long seed pods line up in the waves

the tidelines drawn by their crumbling leaves (punctuated by more recently fallen leaves toasted orange in the sun)

the seedlings growing from well-fallen seed pods that have managed to plunge their way into the mudflats and take root

while other roots fingered their way upward from beneath

drawing another story on the sand

this was a time to wander

consider

experiment

sample

be still

and listen

and though participants drew, painted and wrote

made bowls, bundles and bags
for me the important thing about the days spent there was not the production of finished objects
but the intangibles
the things that cannot be quantified, described in words, photographed or sketched
seeds that were sown to sprout and bloom, who knows where, who knows when. rather like the mangroves.

so i will hand the last word to Bill
whose writing is as fresh as when the ink first dried on the page so many years ago...
these found by chance through randomly opening a page in a book acquired by one of our number on the first leg of the journey homeward.

the solace of the arid lands

last week i took some time away from the whirled 

and headed northward to the Observatory

where a most satisfactory collection is slowly on the increase

 encompassing contributions from the UK, the USA, Denmark and Spain

as well as from across the length and breadth of the wide brown land

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there's still time to join in the solace project 

or

if you prefer, create your own. i'm happy to share the idea.

grateful to those who have sent pieces, thank you.

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people have been enquiring whether they may come and assist with the installation. 

the short answer is simply, no. 

the Observatory can only accommodate two persons, 

has no electricity or running water (meaning no showers or food cooling either)

cooking is done with an old wood stove

sparingly burning twigs to heat the kettle for tea

and while there is a pit toilet, it is not available to the public as 

when it fills i shall have to dig a fresh one and 

that's not a thought that fills me with delight. 

solace will be installed at the southern mid-winter solstice 

and (i hope) be available for viewing from June 23

it will remain in place indefinitely. 

i will document it photographically through various weathers and as promised, collate the images (together with the poem formed from all of your words) into a book.

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the sunrises and sunsets here are equally beautiful

the view of the stars at night is unequalled 

(and nigh on impossible to capture with a batfone)

the arid lands are a perfect place for clearing thoughts

(the Dog decided that my clearing needed further intervention)

it's good to travel with a friend.

on the way home we stopped at the Arid Lands Botanic Gardens

to see how 'elegy' was faring

after which certain wee dog washed the dust of the desert off

with a swim at the top end of Spencer Gulf

Wrapping a Rose

a little while ago i provided a sketch pattern

for a no-sew silkymerino slipdress

which can be worn in a multitude of ways

firstly as a shawl

or a scarf

while the two simple armholes allow it to become a dress

 

 wear it with a draped neckline

or hooded as below

roll the cowl down 

for a dropped shoulder look

drop one of the armholes

and it becomes a Grecian style drape

as worn to great effect by the late Princess of Wales 

on a visit to Adelaide a good many years ago. 

though i was told (by a friend who danced with her at the university ball) 

that hers was skyblue.

below you see it with the colour drained

thanks to the Snapseed app 

(which has provided me with a deal of amusement today)

it's hard to stop taking pictures of my gorgeous girl

if you put your head through one of the armholes

then you can wear it as a halterneck

this version is not quite no-sew as i added some pockets

but it is still a minimal waste dress

fold the top down

pleat and tuck

and it becomes a comfy skirt

(the pockets may become a little trickier to access)

and of course you can snuggle into the whole thing 

as if it were a footless sleeping bag

which is extremely comfy for sleeping on 

trains, planes and automobiles (best not if you're driving)

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we had fun shooting in the hayshed

but our audience was rather bored

Kubbi snoozed on the tractor

Jack chose a more precarious spot

(we'll be moving him before we move that wheel).

 i used a two metre length of silkymerino to make that dress

if you're not confident of making your own

i'd be happy to make one for you

dyed with windfalls from the farm

please drop me a line

if you'd like to pursue the idea

 but you'll have to find your own Rose.