On the count of three

It's nearing 3am on the morning after the last of the Bower Bird Blues workshops and I'm lying wide awake listening to the pounding of the ocean and thinking of all the things I could have done better. 

Kubbi on the other hand is snoozing peacefully by my side. 

Scrolling back through my Batfone I'm surprised to find this is the only image I made of the newly established Botanical Studio at Beautiful Silks in Allansford 

Marion and Elephant have worked miracles to create a retreat and workshop centre dedicated to facilitating ecologically sustainable textile arts. 

During our three days together we were spiritually sustained by the beauty of the space and gardens and nourished by deliciousgood meals prepared by Marion - supplemented by various dulcet delectables from the kitchen of her good friend Brenda.   

Once again we were considering the blues (though my limited set of images doesn't really reflect that). There was stitching, stringmaking, writing and the beating of leaves. Complemented by much enthusiasm in the hammering and sawing of metals (under the direction of Roz Hawker) - sadly I don't seem to have any images of those pieces either. Ah well. 

Indigo leaves were beaten in as well as bundled. 

The surface of this dyebath was absolutely jewel-like. 

As were the bundles that emerged from it

Somehow in between all that we found time to design a simple dress for one of the participants to wear to her daughter's wedding - all she has to do now is dye it. 

I'll write up the instructions in the next post, meanwhile I'm hoping to drift into the arms of Morpheus for a while...if I can stop the churning of thoughts!

sockbundles

tis a fine thing
when the infants take an interest in the construction of things
especially when those things are warm and comfy
and are given to me

my Wild Rose [aka the Eldest of the Three] who has a B.Sc Hons and was recently awarded her wool classer's stencil
is not content with being able to do clever things with statistics and fling fleeces on tables
and [thanks to instruction by great-grandmother] churn out exquisite tatted lace at machine speed
has now turned her hand to knitting
and discovered a passion for socks.
- unlike me she can actually make two objects that are exactly alike.
 
the first pair went to her beloved.
i scored the second lot.

so of course
i bundled them up with some eucalyptus leaves

i love my socks

and was tempted to sling them in here as well

but i was firmly restrained.
they said enough was enough.
sigh.

guess i shall be wearing contrasting socks.

how does your garden grow?

yesterday i drove down to Murray Bridge
to install my pieces for the exhibition

How Does Your Garden Grow?

glimpse of the catalogue

 i was accompanied by my "assistant"
who voraciously consumed quantities of milk while busily charming the socks off the gallery crew

glimpse of the cat

 but fortunately fell asleep long enough for me to paint my poem on the wall
[using an indigo-flavoured milk and lime mix]

nightsongs [text]

nightsongs

 when not otherwise occupied, Yoda practiced yoga

here's what the rest of my work looks like

cloud

each precious drop [detail]

each precious drop [detail]

each precious drop [detail]

each precious drop [detail]

each precious drop [detail]

each precious drop [installation view]

please join us there on Sunday March 30 at 2.30 to see the work of Dana Kinter, Petrus Spronk, Morgan Allender and Matthew Bradley[and mine in reality as opposed to batfone-snaps]

at the end of the day my assistant was exhausted

  

me too.


PS the bones were donated by Ginger, a jersey cow who died from natural causes [i think snakebite counts as natural in Australia] some years ago and who was buried respectfully but whose remains were exposed after a vicious north wind that blew the mound away.

the answer to yesterday's question

where should i have begun?
at the beginning.

last week i flew home, changed my socks, polished my boots, cuddled my cat
patted the dogs, had a quick gin with my family, blew some notes on the tenor sax
and then
flew to Melbourne

to teach the first of what is rapidly becoming a series of second skin classes

Sally Harvey [proprietor of the gorgeous Crockett Cottage] kindly met me at the airport and took me straight to Brunetti's on Lygon Stree for a delicious iced coffee.
it was one of those rare moments when i actually thanked the Dogs Above that i am wheat intolerant otherwise i think i could cheerfully have eaten my way through that establishment.
wall to wall cakes of every description
with a goodly percentage of them loaded with cream and chocolate [two essential daily vitamins so far as i am concerned]

that was a fine beginning.

next morning i tottered across Johnston street and up the back lanes for a bit of a wander
and a quick reconnaissance of the green trash bins outside the flower store Vasette

treasure
and lots of it

i found nerines, tiger lilies [stamens intact, thank you], gardenia, magnolia, oak, three species of eucalyptus [i found even more wandering back down the laneways], lotus, roses, orchids, cotinus and more

in short, i found abundance

which reassured me that the maxim i live by

"everything we need is here"

still works very nicely, thank you.

for this trip i tried to keep my luggage compact, taking the smallest of work kits [spectacles included in photo for scale] although i did rather kick myself for forgetting to pack my singing bowl. unlike Stuart Kestenbaum [Director of Haystack Mountain School of Craft] who commands an expectant hush just by walking to the front of the room

to get attention i have to ring a bell [better still, a bowl] or resort to making a loud "coooooeeeee" noise. so it was the latter [that, or unpack the soprano sax...which might have had the opposite effect and cleared the room]

 i could do this of course [travel lightly, i mean, not clear the room] because i was coming to silkcentral
Beautiful Silks
where we were going to be working with the most luscious of materials

SilkyMerino and #5silkcotton stitching thread

i think this combination is my all time favourite. i'm the original sensitive princess when it comes to cloth against skin.

polyester brings me out in a rash [my son says it is psychosomatic but that is nonsense.]

the itchy wool trousers of my school uniform in the '70s had me in tears [although now i am sure the dyes in that cloth were as much to blame]

but i can even sleep in SilkyMerino [purl side inwards is best of all]

 we began by making a super-simple garment that doubles as a sweet top and as a scarf [even a hoodie if you're clever] so that we could get something into the dyepot and have a present to open next morning

and then we moved on to making one of the most important tools in dressmaking
no, not forging scissors [though that would be exciting]
but making string

and then on day two we started work on our beautiful second skins, exploring almost-no-waste cutting techniques and delighting in the fabulous drape of the cloth as well as the joy of handsewing,
simple running stitch and flat fell seams...strong AND beautiful

but we needed another present to open on day three
so
we took advantage of the sucrose indigo vats that had been brewing happily [nurtured by Naomi] since Aboubakar Fofana's workshop there in November last year [which i sadly missed because i was happily in Portland]

rebundling those simple ecoprinted garments, to add patches of blue...

totally gorgeous.

i had such a splendid time and everyone seemed so happy [and the wait list for Mansfield is bubbling over] that i really think there will have to be more second skin classes.
stay tuned for an announcement later this week...

9

i've always been most fond of the number 9

which is one of the reasons i didn't fly straight home from Arizona

December 9 would have been eaten by the international date line

a shocking waste of a good day

so here i am in San Francisco instead. it's been my favourite city forever

[until New Orleans welcomed me with open arms last month]

now i have two favourite cities

[and a host of favourite wild places]

but i'm straying from the story.

i'm in San Francisco, in the slightly grotty Buena Vista Motor Inn.

the walls and floors vibrate and working girls go up and down the elevator

[and probably on a few other things too]
however

from my position on the sofa in my room

i can just see the red lights on the top of the Golden Gate Bridge

earlier this evening i called past an old friend

a Jasminum polyanthemum that lives near the top of Greenwich Street

whose fragrance both real and remembered has been a delight to me for over thirty years.

my most recent tattoo was [literally] drawn from my memory of this particular plant

some kind person has adorned it with twinkle lights

making the visit especially sweet

sailing on [a] high

self portrait at Big Sur

as a parting gesture

i set two boats afloat at San Gregorio

[a paste-up of which appears below]

oddly

one turned to the right and floated straight out into the Pacific

the other turned left

and literally went upstream

back into America

hmm

and then i drove to the airport

through the redwoods

too big and beautiful to attempt to capture virtually

you will just have to imagine them

and their wonderful fragrance

sadly the connection from SFO to LAX

was over an hour late
but there was a glorious sunset over San Francisco
[though fog obscured my favourite bridge] 

meaning that by the time i scrambled to the Qantas checkin

having covered about 300miles through LAX on foot

getting from one end to the other

there were no window seats left

i'd been hoping to gaze at the Perseids

while floating up on high

[had time permitted, being on the west coast two days later

would have allowed for perfect viewing]

ah well, i'll be looking out for the Draconids in October

they are best viewed from the Northern Hemisphere

and have the advantage of being easy to find

high in the sky as night falls

they aren't usually quite so spectacular as the Perseids

or the Leonids

but have the reputation of being able to put on a surprising display

maybe

this will be my lucky year

[certainly has been generally wonderful so far]

musing on international orange under blue skies

there was a time
when i was small
...blue and orange
were my favourite colours

they still make my heart sing

if your heart needs singing practice
you could try taking it to Melbourne
where it could exult in the Fred Williams retrospective
'infinite horizons'
the paintings are so vibrant
they seem backlit

Debbie Herd writes about her experience here
Fiona Morgan shows more images here
if you can't visit the exhibition in person
consider investing in the catalogue
worth every cent.