a clean sweep

I had been with my former website host since 2004 or 5, but things were getting awfully clunky. It became tedious to try and upload images as the site would crash or simply freeze, so eventually I gave up.

Goodbye, Mr.Site.com - I'm sorry, but you just made it too hard.

Hello squarespace.com - along with a new address.

find me at

www.indiaflint.net

I'm still learning my way around, so there's bit of tweaking going on, but it feels fresh and clean and I love it.

Now I just need to get my house and workroom feeling the same way!

ikigai - or, a very fine week

 

what a week it's been.

last Sunday i decided in my infinite wisdom that a curtain originally belonging to one of my grandmothers needed cleaning.

someone (who shall remain nameless) had left it on a pile of other stuff where a certain cat had decided it was pretty comfortable.

my front loading washing shrine (so called because i genuflect before it every time i put in a load) has proved gentle on delicate things thus far so i didn't think twice about tossing in the curtain and choosing the handwash setting.

actually that's not strictly true. i did think twice. i thought that i didn't want to wash it by hand because i was a little unsure about exactly what the cat had been doing on the curtain in addition to slumbering.

a short time later the shrine was complaining of indigestion and upon investigation i discovered that all the fluffy chenille bits had completely clogged the space between the rotating drum and the bigger drum that keeps the water in the machine and stops it running through the house.

not good.

pulling out the filter at the bottom unleashed a replay of the shower scene from Psycho.

thick red dye gushed across the laundry floor and down the centre drain. it was only later, trying to rinse out the machine that i thought to take a picture of it. i hate to think what the emissions from the original weaving mill/dye house must have been like.

not a pretty sight.

three hours later and some very tricky (and repetitive) work with a Qantas stirring spoon and the wire handle of an old bucket (both discovered to be essential washing machine repair tools and now stored with the operator handbook and the dime i use to open the filter hatch) order had been restored. 

also i was filled with that singular sense of satisfaction that comes with having solved a problem without slicing my fingers on the razor sharp edges of the access holes in the drum.

except that it was now 4.23 pm

and

i had been planning to attend the 'unearthed' exhibition opening at the Barossa Regional Gallery at 3pm

no matter, i thought.

they will not have remarked upon my absence,

it's a group show after all.

wrong.

i received an email on Tuesday

telling me the work had won an award.

i was ready to sink through the floor at my unintentional rudeness.

not a good feeling.

but it was wonderful to have the work recognised and commended.

the piece is entitled 'open cut' and refers to the mechanics of extracting iron ore from the earth as well as to the wound left on the earth when the mine is exhausted

 and created from iron objects discarded by humans, found by roads and railway tracks in outback South Australia

+

other good things encountered this week include this book

it shows actual size photographs of leaves, together with an image of how they appear collectively AND a silhouette of the tree itself. it is exactly the sort of book that a bear like me needs. i foresee many happy hours with it and suspect it may be accompanying me overseas, though it is heavy. to this end i have ordered a new pilot case, with wheels. schlepping my essential reading material through airports is wearing out my spine.

+

the best thing of all this week has been your response to the wandercards

thank you

i'll be taking last orders soon

and am busy dyeing cloth and scarves to pack them up in

ready to mail them out in the last week of February

some of you have written so kindly about your workshop experiences with me,
or about your reading of my books.
it's been absolutely heart-warming.

one person did ask if i could just send a PDF
so she could print her own

but

one of the things i was particularly excited about

was the cardstock i've selected.

it's 100% post consumer recycled and dyes beautifully

so you should be able to have some fun with them.

(instructions for printing with plants on paper come with the cards)

by the time you receive them, the ink (vegetable based) will have cured sufficiently, too.

i bundled a set pretty much hot off the press.

even after curing i would avoid really fresh eucalyptus leaves because in my experience they always stick to paper 

 someone else suggested i should reveal what's on the working side of the cards, because otherwise it would be like buying a pig in a poke. but that would be like spelling out the fine detail of a workshop before it happens, which i think will spoil the experience.

the wandercards are a distilled form of  'being (t)here' workshop in a box that you can use at home or take with you when you travel. 

mine are certainly going to travel with me.

+

the other joy at present is minding my youngest grandchild.

i'm not usually a fan of selfies

but

 here we are, having a morning schnuggle.

so where is this long saga leading?

i've been thinking about ikigai

that wonderful Japanese word that means

'the reason for getting out of bed'

i have so many!!!
for me, my entire life is my ikigai.

but if you'd like a methodology to work yours out

you can always try this 

borrowed from Wikipedia

the need to know

unless you know what it is, it's legal and it isn't going to make you sick.

during a class last week at the Beautiful Silks Botanical Studio somebody asked the question

"what does oleander do?"

which reminded me that when i pootled across the ranges to Rockford in the Barossa Valley earlier in the month to pick up bottles of assorted nectars (with which to enhance the lunches at Mansfield) i drove past a group of young gentlemen assiduously stripping flowers from a huge Oleander (Nerium oleander). it occurred to me about a 100 metres later that they had bare hands. 

so i did the grandmotherly thing, made a u-turn and went back. 

poor things, they thought i'd come to give them a talking-to for stealing flowers. not so. but i DID give them a talking-to about health and safety.

they had no idea of the name of the plant, or that it was poisonous.

so i told them. 

i also suggested they would want to wash their hands before consuming their next meal (or rubbing their eyes)

their plan was to scatter the flowers at a wedding...but if i were the bride i wouldn't want bushels of  toxic plant matter tossed at me.

i'd also be concerned about small children picking up the flowers and putting them in their mouths. as small children so often do.

i tell my students time and time again "identify the plant, at very least by genus, before gathering". because it's just common sense.

somebody told me in the USA years ago how she and a friend had been hospitalized with anaphylaxis after lifting the lid on a pot full of boiling poison ivy. the genus name Toxicodendron tells me to stay well away from that one. i was so stunned by the story that

i completely forgot to ask "and what colour did it dye?"

so what DOES oleander do? i have no idea. and i don't plan to put it in a dyepot because even the smoke from burning oleander is poisonous.

while i'm on the subject

there have been a spate of images of "ecoprints" from castor oil plant leaves floating about the internet. call me old Mrs Unadventurous if you like, but i would be a bit nervous about bundling leaves from the plant whose derivative was used to kill Georgi Markov. admittedly using it in a dye bundle may not get the stuff into your bloodstream (which is where it is most effective) but there's very little research about the effects of inhaling steam from boiling such bundles.

once cloth is rinsed and dried it won't be a longterm poisoning device (unless you were to soak it in a poison before offering it for use, not a pleasant thought).

so given about 80% of ornamentals in suburban gardens are poisonous in one way or another, i recommend caution.

simple errors like confusing colchicums for crocus and hemlock for angelica have led to tears before bedtime in the past.

i'm not scare-mongering, i just think it's important to know what you're dealing with.

one of the reasons that green became the colour of bad luck in the theatre was that actors who regularly wore green costumes became sick and eventually died...if the colour green in the cloth was dependent on the presence of orpiment (arsenic trisulphide)

they may not have known why, just that you became ill if you wore green.

but that's another story.

ps thank you everybody who offered a word (or two) in response to the previous post...i'll be working with those words and shall hope to find them some friends soon

announcing New Orleans (and a bit of a personal reality check)

it's been a big year.

i've exhibited in New Orleans, Atlanta and Minneapolis (USA)
Evoramonte (Portugal)
Barossa Valley, Port Augusta, Adelaide, Murray Bridge and Tamworth (Australia)

i had work acquired by the Art Gallery of South Australia and was rejected by the Waterhouse Art Prize

self-published a number of books and taught at least nine workshops around the whirled.

which seemed like a reasonable achievement until i clicked a link to Amazon from a friend's sidebar and read the critiques for Eco Colour which is apparently a self-indulgent waffle with no useful information AND in which (according to the several reviewers) i apparently endorse the use of chemical adjuncts "without the specific caution that these are quite toxic".
i don't recall that at all. but clearly i am getting old and batty as well as being "somewhat prickly and seems to be the Self Appointed "Green Police" "
sigh. 

the good news for those people is that i have very recently been blessed with a dog and so will be limiting my travelling to much shorter sorties (after i get through 2016) to stay home and be with her so our paths are far less likely to cross.

at the same time i'll be making a serious effort to get my novel together. BE WARNED. it has stories, contains my favourite food recipes and has been completely self-indulgently written in my own voice so if you didn't like Eco Colour or Second Skin avoid it like the plague and don't say you weren't warned.
rather than attempting to complete the trilogy and writing a book about pattern-making i'm building all that into the story too.
(note to self  :  do not read critiques of novel if/when it is eventually published)

+ + +

if, on the other hand, you are not one of the above and willing to brave three days in my company in New Orleans in September 2015

i can tell you that i shall be offering a compact intensive version of 'being (t)here' in the marvellous Chateau Curioso, down near the lazy river, in the lower 9th ward

the class involves drawing and writing as well as the dyeing of cloth and paper and the making of a beautiful 'island book'. it is about being in place.

dates : September 4,5,6

the cost will be US$700 and i will be brewing a daily cauldron of soup (with accompaniments) for our lunch. some materials will be supplied but there will be a small list of things to bring. by and large we shall be working with treasures we find in the local area

if you are keen you may secure your place with a non-refundable deposit of $100*
drop me a line via my contact page if you'd like to sign up

* in the event there are insufficient takers for the class i shall refund your deposit in full

what's in the bag, indeed

having very publicly condemned the transport of bio-hazards around the whirled i thought i would share with you, for your amusement, the pre-flight clearing of the lovely Whipping+Post tote that carries the bits and bobs i seem to need each day

what the picture doesn't show [because i took them out already]

a journal [stuffed to the gills with scraps]

my passport

stones from Baker Beach, Lopez Island and Willunga Beach 

a seashell from Port Elliot

my SilkyMerino infinity scarf

my batfone

a lot of pencils and a small watercolour set

my trusty raybans

a couple of tsunobukuro shopping bags 

a rusty nail from New Orleans

and also a fan from the above

the bombay sapphire bottle i carry water in

several messy notes on the backs of envelopes

and the dress i was finishing while waiting somewhere

there's a reason this tote is called the Swiss Army Knife of bags!

and what got tipped onto the blanket

moo cards

a star-spangled baci wrapper

a lone gingin [thankyou Christine]

Aesop deliciousness

several buttons from a thrift store coat

random coinage from several countries

ticket stub from the fabulous Mr Laurie's concert

an empty Altoid box [in which i put water for painting]

a marquisite pin from St Thomas' thrift store

a pod from a gleditsia tree at Flinders University

lovely black felt pens for drawing

an Ikea pencil and others

the stub from a plane ticket

a drinking straw in a paper wrapper

several rubber bands

some string

and rather a lot of dry crumbled eucalyptus leaves

+  +  +

it's all clean and tidy now

lots of space for stocking up on Altoids

in San Francisco later this week.

and i think i might allow myself a new journal.

even though i should probably just make one.

May or may not.

i have work to do

and packing to contemplate

things like this to send in parcels

and weed lists to find for the Pacific North West.

i haven't blown my sax in days.

instead i have been infested by tigers.

very 

little ones

well,

one tiny one and one slightly bigger one. 

correspondence

i get a lot of correspondence from people wanting me to advise them on dyeing. some of it gets quite specific. 

i am sharing this one, not because i want to pick on this person or poke fun or be an inter-bitch but because my responses may answer similar questions for others. [please bear this in mind if you are moved to comment.]

[i have changed the name of my correspondent to the non-gender specific Jordan to save him/her possible embarrassment but otherwise have not edited their messages]


Dear Ms. Flint, I hope this email finds you well. I recently purchased your book Eco Colour and I am totally in love with it! I love the way you wrote it and all the information in it. Thank you for sharing your knowledge and for creating such a wonderful book! I'm a holistic interior designer and for the first time I'm venturing into the wonderful world of natural dyeing. I'm interested in developing a line of nautical fabrics that can be used for upholstering, window treatment and beach wear. I am planning to use Linens and Silks for upholstering and window treatments, and for the beachwear I'm planning to use several blends of organic cottons. Some of these blends are a mixture of cotton with bamboo and spandex (around 5%), cotton with soy and spandex, and cotton with hemp. I wanted to kindly ask you if you could possibly guide me as to what kinds of dyes are the most permanent and the ones that are more likely to withstand fading as a result of the sun, salt water, and even chlorine from a swimming pool? I will deeply appreciate from the bottom of my heart any information that you can share with me. Thank you for being such an inspiration. My warmest regard, - Jordan 

 -------

Dear Jordan
Thank you for buying my book. I would be experimenting with local plants (and considering the impact that large scale production would have on the environment ) before launching a business.
Doing light and wash fastness tests etc.  and I'd be researching the properties of the fabrics too.

In any event you have posed rather a lot of quite specific questions. Are you wishing to engage me as a consultant?

Cordially

India

www.indiaflint.com

this message has been buzzed to you by a blue-tailed bee

 -------

Hello Ms Flin, what a pleasure to hear from you. My apologies for having bombarded you with so many questions. I am new to this and I thought that the more details I gave the better. What i wanted to know was basically if there is a particular type of natural dye that is more permanent than others. I guess the answer is not that simple. I am considering starting a home based business for local distribution. I live in a beach town where there are also lots of wooded areas which have a rich variety of vegetation. A lot of the things I create are from recycled materials also. I would love to hire you as a consultant but unfortunately i dont have a budget for it at this moment. If you provide me with your consultation fee I will make a note of it.  

Thank you again for responding to my email and congratulations on your wonderful book! 

My warmest regards,

Jordan

-------

 

dear Jordan

I too would respond more formally but as you have not advised me of your surname I am not in a position to do so. 

Nor have you given me any indication of where you live other than that you are in a beach town blessed with wooded areas. That you call it "wood" and not "bush" suggests that you are from somewhere other than Australia. That you write in English may narrow your location to an anglophonic region. But that could be anywhere and so my advice regarding the [to me unknown] vegetation would be meaningless.

If you have read the book you will know that it's not just about the vegetation, the growing location, the season of harvest but also about the quality of the local water, the choice of dye vessel and the type of fibre you wish to dye.
 
I've developed my methods based on a lifetime of working with textiles and plants. Dyeing funds my living.

Your proposal to develop a business as a result of acquiring my book is on a par with me deciding to set up as an aircraft technician after leafing through a book about planes. 

It would be both truthful and easy to say that indigo and eucalyptus are the two most durable dyes I know...but whether they would be suitable for your applications [you mention spandex and chlorine, two substances I avoid where possible] is not for me to speculate.

May I respectfully suggest that you begin by familiarizing yourself with the local flora? Learn to identify it, know what is protected and what can be gathered and then begin to conduct your own experiments within a context of responsible collection and resource management. Consider planting a dye garden. Peruse the local weed list. Make samples, conduct light and wash fastness tests and then you may be in a position to determine whether you might launch a viable business. You might even think about taking a class.

But you can't grow potatoes without digging the ground. *

cordially
India


*Unless you are going to build a raised bed. Either way it does still require some effort.

PayPal SchmayPal

after a phone call, six emails and hours spent searching for documents, copying them and uploading them to PayPal i am apparently still under suspicion. even though my account page says i have complied.

perhaps they think my whirled-wandering involves training people in nefarious activities [note the bit about "politically exposed persons". i rarely expose myself, preferring to dress [as my children put it] in things that resemble small Bedouin tents and if i did expose myself, it would not be to politicians. so there.

or maybe they want blood? DNA? perhaps my grandmother's left index finger? that last one could be tricky, she was buried in 1987. and i'm not sure i want to disturb her slumbers. and my other grandmother was cremated and later sprinkled around the farm dam. maybe i could scrape up a soil sample?

clearly i was not cut out to be a shopkeeper and it is just as well this has happened now, and not when i eventually launch the promised limited edition publication as it would have made a right dog's breakfast of the distribution process. [thank you, those of you who have suggested other means of accepting payments, i am exploring possibilities]

meanwhile i'm going back to the sewing room. it's nice and quiet there.

wishing merry everything, good health, abundance and happiness to y'all....and if anyone still wants to buy anything i have made [via the interpixies, that is] FarFetch is presently your only option.

the trouble with my name

i have had trouble with my name from time to time
especially when it comes to email
which is why i changed it to appaloosa rather than using
mail AT indiaflint DOT com

because things with india in them do bounce back
and people like spotty ponies better, it seems
i suppose it could be worse.
nigeria, for example

but this morning's advice from PayPal
that they were investigating me for money-laundering
due to the sudden inflow of $ [thank you, those kind people who opted to purchase a scarf!]
took the cake

so
today i am posting the scarves for those kind and quick people who paid before they closed the gate
[though apparently i have to await an investigation before PayPal will pay me]
but any further interest will have to rest on ice

and given today's weather forecast promises 43 degrees C
...that's  109.4    on the scale of F major
ice may be a good thing.

how to run a workshop

every so often i get an email asking for advice on how to run dyeing workshops. sometimes people will ask me quite specifically [and i may say, audaciously] for teaching plans or class outlines. often i wonder whether they are writing to the right person, especially if they refer to dying workshops. i do not feel competent to instruct anyone about that.

sometimes they tell me that they've been to a dye class somewhere [not necessarily with me, i might add] and now they want to teach too; or that they "have the book" and are "ready to teach" but are wondering where to begin in terms of running a workshop.


in general i respond as follows :


dear 'X'
 
I have been working on developing my workshops over some thirty or so years and I'm beginning to think they are at last moving in the right direction.

But what works for me may not necessarily work for you. My teaching is founded in my history, informed by research and practice, enriched by continual re-examination, research and further study.

Each of us finds our own way into our own reality. The one sure thing I can tell you is that your work will be a clear reflection of you.  

go well

India

 

today as i was happily bundling away and stitching on my blue cloth while waiting for the billy full of bundles to boil i found myself pondering the subject of teaching in more depth [one of the great benefits of an artist residency is being given the gift of time, not just to DO, but to THINK] and so i made a few notes that i thought might be worth sharing

the first classes i taught were at remote communities out along the East-West railway line that crosses the middle of Australia. at the time i was employed by the Arts Council of South Australia [now a mere shadow of its former self] as their exhibitions officer.

together with South Australian artist Yasmin Grass and R.I.C.E. i travelled out on the Tea and Sugar train with an exhibition of colourful clothing set up in one end of an old railway carriage and a lino-printing workshop at the other. at night we unrolled sleeping bags and slept on the floor of the show. that was back in the 80s. sadly the Tea and Sugar doesn't run any more.

we taught at places like Tarcoola, Cook and Barton. at the first stop, Tarcoola, there was a one-teacher school and as i recall the teacher disappeared off to the pub after unloading all of his 15 students on to us. i guess he didn't get many days off.  it was "seat of the pants" flying and a good learning experience all round.

at the beginning of the day all i really knew was "more about lino printing than any of the students". by the end of the day i was beginning to get a grip on crowd management, had learned to make sure that we would have a first aid kit next time [cellophane tape and toilet tissue aren't the best emergency response for cut fingers] and had developed a mildly ridiculous comedy routine that helped get the clean-up done at the end. nobody bled to death, everyone had a printed T-shirt they were happy with and we had managed to foil the class clown who was busy carving an expletive into a piece of lino with the intent of inking it and placing it underneath fellow students as they were about to sit down. it was a creative idea but he'd forgotten to reverse the letters so it would have looked pretty silly anyways.

but back to the subject...how to run a workshop

know your subject inside out. that means understanding things yourself before you attmept to present them to others. in the case of dyeing with plants it means being able to identify the plants you plan to work with, knowing their properties and understanding the chemistry.
taking a few classes or reading a book does not make you an expert. practice and research and study will help.

prepare. i have a good friend whose motto is "luck is for the unprepared". i find it takes me at least a day of prep for each day of teaching, and a good bit of time spent after class thinking about what went well, what could have been improved and what really needs to change before the next time 

take care of your students and help them to learn how to do things safely and sensibly.

repeat things from time to time [we learn to remember by repetition]

be a student yourself. i take at least two classes each year as a student. they may not necessarily be classes that are obviously related to WHAT i teach, but they help me to learn HOW to teach in a more engaged [and i hope engaging] and effective way

if you want to use something in your teaching that you've learned from someone else's class, ask their permission first. and when you do share it with your students, acknowledge the person you learned the skill from. #

listen to your students. you can learn a lot from them, not only interesting information but about how they understand [or don't understand] things

keep on reading, researching, experimenting and learning in your chosen field.

and keep on asking questions.

the truth is you can never know too much about your subject. and the last word [for now] goes to Bill Shakespeare.

to thine own self be true.  

and while we're talking about workshops...there's a three day class with me near a beach on the Otago coast on new Zealand's beautiful south island at the end of April next year that still has places...in fact, so many places that they're thinking about pulling the plug on it. if enough people sign up in the next few weeks it will go ahead, otherwise i'll be spending more time at home in the studio...polishing up my skills!

# i shall be forever grateful to Nalda Searles [who taught me how to make string] and to Sandra Brownlee [who kindly let me borrow her idea of a "clothesline talk"] ... by combining the two ideas i've derived a useful and amusing means of presenting information to students and keeping it available to them for the duration of the class

a blessing. of sorts.

let me tell you a secret

deep inside

i am a shy

and

somewhat solitary bear,

it takes courage for me to step into the spotlight
i'd rather stay home than go to parties
[close friends have told me i am socially inept]
and i tend to take things quite literally

i tend to be forthright

i have a strong sense of justice and

i WILL speak out if i see something that is not right

it is how i came off the assembly line, reinforced by how i was raised.

if i kindly advise someone that it would be better

in the interests of [their] potential longevity

not to be consuming food in an atmosphere redolent of toxic vapours

i am doing that out of concern

and from what i perceive to be a duty of care.
in short

i mean well.

so if you then tell me i have "crossed a line" and go on to demand whether i realise that by coming to teach i have "inconvenienced others who normally use the space" and snicker derisively when my Precious rises sponstaneously to my defence

then all i can say is

"Bless you and be Happy"

 i shall not darken your doors again.

poor fellow my country

i'm using the title of Xavier Herbert's significant contribution for good reason. 

"This book is the decisive story of how in those vital years, Australia threw away her chance of becoming a true commonwealth. The dream of Australia Felix, The Happy South Land.The book will long remain in the memory and is undoubtedly Herbert's supreme contribution to Australian literature."

Australia has now been handed to a party of  environmental destructivists.

the Liberal Party, led by someone whose avowed mission it is to cut down the last of the tall trees we have left, is going to be in charge of our sinking ship.

Australia is in deep environmental trouble. each bushfire that burns thousands of acres of forest contributes to reductions in rainfall. reduced leaves, reduced transpiration, reduced clouds, reduced rainfall

and when rainfall reduces, then regeneration does too. or we get massive crops of woody weeds instead of trees. so with the countryside already under threat [and remember we are the driest continent]

and with all the raving about reducing carbon emissions - wouldn't it make sense to leave the last tall trees [which are basically carbon + water + a few other things] standing to get on with the business of converting carbon dioxide to oxygen

rather than being pulped to provide newsprint and toilet paper. 

poor fellow, my country. 

a sad farewell to a pair of good friends and an apology

there have been only three times in the last decade that i have cancelled a professional engagement. it isn't something i do lightly or without a great deal of consideration.

the first time occurred when two emails arrived; the first from the workshop host telling me that although the class was booked out he would only be paying me half my fee due to "unforseen financial difficulties" [meaning that not even my airfare would be covered] and the second was from a student-to-be in that same class telling me how excited she was to be sharing a room with me for the duration of the event. gulp.

the second was for private reasons, too complicated to be listed here.

the third; my taking advantage of the clause in the contract that allows either party to cancel the agreement at any time up to 30 days prior to the event, took place over a month ago after i had wrestled with flight bookings for the MISA class just passed and realised that there was a very real chance of finding myself stranded somewhere in the dark instead of arriving in good spirits and fine form ready to teach at Lopez Island in September.

now that i have actually been to Madeline Island i am glad i listened to my inner Border Collie. 

the island is very pretty and reminds me strongly of Latvia. lilacs and peonies abound, the road verges are bursting with wildflowers and strawberries, fireflies and owls bring entertainment to the dark, the dyepots produced amazing greens and my students were a joy to spend time with : but the process of getting there tried me somewhat. delayed inward flights, no less than three gate changes at Minneapolis airport [B to C to D - i think i've had the full tour now] before arriving at Duluth and a long journey in the back seat of a shuttle [during which my knees informed me that i'm not the spring chicken i once was] have vindicated the decision. [ my preferred mode of surface travel is in a car with me at the wheel and with a stop for wandering and wondering and leg-stretching about every 45 minutes ]

 

i'm truly sorry for the inconvenience and disappointment the cancellation has caused those students who signed up for the Fall class but when push comes to shove, the Lopez Islanders did book me first and do have a right to expect me to arrive on time and unflustered. just to get back to Minneapolis took more than half a day...and i had only allowed a day to travel between Madeline and Lopez. with not one but two ferries and three or four plane trips involved i could see disaster looming large on the horizon. all it takes is one good storm or one missed connection and it all goes down the gurgler. my fault entirely for wanting to accommodate as many folk as possible and for over-estimating my capabilities.

 

 the folks at MISA asked me to write to students and explain myself

- i figured it was best done here where it wouldn't get lost in translation.  

+ + +

and what is that picture of the boots about?

 

they became infested with a breeding colony of chiggers during my stay on the island and i was forced to abandon them in San Francisco. squirting the insides with insect repellent didn't quell the libidinous enthusiasm of the tiny terrors and so i had to leave my trusty friends behind.

sadly my command of Spanish was not adequate to explain to the kindly housekeeping person at the Kabuki that these boots harboured unpleasant surprises. i do hope she didn't try them on. if they sit in a Goodwill sorting shed for long enough, maybe those chiggers will have shuffled off this mortal coil -  i really couldn't risk bringing them home and introducing a new pest to Australia -

i'll spare you the image of what they've done to my leg but i can assure you i won't be exposing the bare flesh of my calves anytime soon.

...we don't want to frighten the children...

que?

opening the mail this morning i nearly choked on my porridge

when i read the unequivocal statement below

while the second sentence is true,

my response to the first was quite simply "bollox".

if you don't know what that means, good.

if you do, be assured that i have put a gold-coloured coin into the swear jar.

the reason green is traditionally considered to be a "difficult to achieve" colour is quite simply because of the way the plants have been processed.

most water supplies contain at least a little sodium

which tends to make everything yellow.

if you're lucky enough to live in Philadelphia

or Göttingen or other places where the water is rich in calcium; or if your water comes from a copper-rich bore/well then you'll be familiar with beautiful greens too

 or you could go play at Mount Tamborine

where the climate and soil and magic-in-the-air gave us lovely greens

there's an old Japanese dyeing family whose name sadly escapes me for now

but you could google them if you had half an hour to spare, Dr something-beginning-with-K

spoke at the UNESCO dye conference in Hyderabad in 2006

and i distinctly recall him showing slides of the 167 repeatable and named 

shades of green that his family could dye to order

[i'm pretty sure there must be either copper or calcium or both in their water]

their sample books go back over six or seven generations.

the samples above were dyed at Gore, New Zealand

and here's a link to the process we used at Warrnambool, Victoria

bundle-dyeing or ecoprinting [much the same thing]

is by far the best way to achieve greens

as the outside of the bundle acts as a filter

so what reaches the inside is relatively pure steam

without nasties that will dull the greens or change them to gold

and if you've pre-soaked your cloth

in a diluted copper+vinegar solution 

[NOT copper sulphate, it is toxic and corrosive]

success is guaranteed.

now that i've got that off my chest

i'll clear up the mess of spluttered porridge

and get back to the dyepot...

its contents have to be packed and on a plane on Tuesday.

muttering and fondling the crystal ball

i've been roaming the whirled and teaching many many classes since the publication of Eco Colour [2008] and Second Skin [2011], the two books into which i poured my dye knowledge so that

+ folks out in the whirled could make fabulous colour without the need for toxic chemical mordants

+ the techniques wouldn't get lost and so that in the event my children [or who knows, potential grand-children] ever wanted to know what Mumsie was brewing out the in the shed they could look it up

+ there'd be some kind of record that, although i didn't rush out and patent the ecoprint [something many people have since told me i should have done], it was actually me who realised that when Latvian Easter Egg Dyeing techniques were married with Shibori-zome and blessed by eucalyptus then extraordinary magic would happen.

musing on life in this crossover limbo time sliding between one calendar and the next,  i'm beginning to wonder. foremost in my mind is that you can't have a dog and keep wandering like a fly in a bottle...and i am very much missing the daily delightful companionship of a dogfriend [thank you all those kind folk who let me have dog therapy with their friends last year, especially that lovely chap in Washington Square, San Francisco who let me spend time with his two polar bears who were pretending to be Maremma's]

doing my 2011-12 tax [a little late] on New Year's Eve the numbers were scarily clear. there i am rushing around the whirled, disseminating techniques that took me years to develop but there's not that much over after paying bills. it may sound glamorous and it can be wonderfully satisfying but in the end it's also really, really exhausting. [even though i've never had jet-lag]

 i try to distribute transport expenses by setting a flat fee whirled-wide but despite this very often when i am asked to teach a class somebody will want to haggle about the cost.

 a person in Alaska actually had the audacity to suggest that i consider a teaching gig there as a holiday.

what?

on which planet does that make sense? how is it a holiday if i am working? how will it benefit me to pay $4000 in airfares from Australia plus accommodation plus plus plus. oh yes, i forgot, it will be a holiday. thanks so much.

to cut a long story short, i'm letting y'all know that while workshops have been planned for 2013, there may not be so many in 2014.  there'll be a West Coast series [Washington, Oregon, California] in the northern fall this year [2013] and a gig in Vancouver, Canada 

none of which is listed on the website yet

but

other than the yet-to-be-posted West Coast Wandering, what's on the workshop page is IT for now.

if you would like to learn something from me in the Southern Hemisphere there are only three options available. one in West Australia in April and the other two in New Zealand [one on each island] in a few weeks time.

the workshop in the South Island will be held at the Keylock family property in the Lud Valley. we might even manage an excursion to Cable Bay [the scene of our wonderful "wade in the water" session the year we made reconstructed garments and immersed them in the sea prior to dyeing]

we'll be making a wayfarer's wanderbook. stitching a beautiful wrapping cloth. dyeing paper and fabrics. telling stories, doing a bit of writing - penning poems as well as prose. we'll be paying close attention to a very beautiful part of the whirled - enjoying nourishment for the spirit together with very practical dye techniques.

if the prospect of five days doing this interests you, do please drop Judy Keylock a line here  

     judykeylock[at]mac[dot]com

or give her a tinkle on +64 [0]3 545 2176 as there are a couple of places left in the class

if you made it to the bottom of the page, thanks for hanging in there.

and have a fabulous year.

excavations

i have been attempting to declutter

while searching for long lost stuff

adrift in the knee-deep chaos that has arisen

over a year of coming home to empty and refill my suitcase

and am embarrassed to reveal

that things were found dating back to the last millenium

[let alone century]

these unearthed images are of work from 2001

the first year of the current millennium

not much colour

except for a ball of red wool

dyed with Eucalyptus cinerea

that squiggly intestinal installation

was created from a continuous length of English Leicester roving

it was one metre wide

and whatever long