journeying

it's nearly 9 years (next March) since Eco Colour (a book i wanted to call 'botanical alchemy' but was told the title wouldn't sell) hit the bookstores. in that time what i initially referred to as 'ecoprint' has spread far and wide. thousands of people are making a living by printing with plants.

hilariously, though i was the first to publish the technique* i usually see myself referred to as an "also ran" in various media. a recent book about natural processes in textile art listed me merely as a "practitioner" of the technique (though instructions for ecoprinting are scattered generously throughout its pages).

i've seen colleagues absorb my work into their teaching practices, and observed "fashion labels" created after people have taken classes....sometimes only a one day class.

and there are so many people out there teaching "ecoprinting" (though much of it is not ecologically sustainable at all, as toxic adjuncts are increasingly employed) that i no longer offer basic "how to" classes. it would be like having to play "twinkle, twinkle, little star" over and over again.

not much fun for me, and ergo less for my students.

which is how 'being (t)here' took root and has grown into a retreat class that embraces being fully present and at the same time exploring the poetics of place.
it gives me such joy to be able to offer something more than just a class about printing with leaves.

for me, 'being (t)here' is a way of experiencing the whirled that helps open the cracks that let the light get in (thank you Leonard, for that phrase) no matter where you are. it offers a pathway to beauty that can be rolled out whether you're in a verdant forest, a shimmering desert, an urban wasteland or your own private paradise.

we observe and see, write and draw, print and dye. we fold paper into books...  the island book fold and its bigger cousin the river book, making a journals from single sheets of paper :: without having to thread a needle.

together we make discoveries, in ourselves AND in the dyepot. the other lovely thing that's been happening is that many of the students keep in touch with each other after the workshops. sometimes they make a facebook group, sometimes a blog. others just wrestle with an email list. but they maintain the connections and forge deep bonds. it's wonderful.

i've been teaching less through institutions (though i remain loyal to a select few), and more in beautiful and sometimes unusual places. the Yellow Ferry is one of these. there is something deeply magical about being on a boat, which is why i will be back there in February 2017.
i've reduced the class numbers and though the feedback from many people is that they consider the fee too high, the investment for the class is actually the same as for the first one, it's just that i have sourced a richer collection of materials for each person to work with, with treasures such as a limited edition silkymerino dress to take home.
 as a business proposition it is laughable because the expenses won't balance against the income...but to me it is absolutely worth it for the experience we will all have.

because it is the journey that matters, in the end.

and i am loving the ride.



*you'll see references to "nature printing" that are earlier, but that is a technique where the plant is dipped in paint or dye and pressed against a substrate of some kind

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

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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.

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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.

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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 bundle book

many of you have written to me and asked if i would consider making a pocket-sized book that simply looked at ecoprint bundling.

you told me that 'Second Skin' was a good read but it didn't fit well into a travel bag.

i'm a girl that can take a hint. especially when it is a good one.

so here it is, folks. the bundle book.

and yes, at long last, it has a section about printing on paper.

i hope you like it.

finding my feet

it has dawned on me that it is the first time since 1985

that i am living in a dwelling on my ownsome

[note ownsome, not lonesome]

the faculty here at the Oregon College of Art and Craft

have been so kind and welcoming that i feel as if i have been here for more than five days

but that's all it is, so far

even so

the studio walls are filling.

i shall have to grow taller

or find a ladder

in order to make the most of the space

i have been wandering and gathering surface textures

as well as a few words

marvelling at the wonder of the leaves

gathering

and then bundling them up

with happy results

and i had a somewhat larger bundle going

a little ambitious for the pot

but a quick flip solved the spatial issue

then

later today

 a kindly former student

took me to the Japanese Garden

afterward

i felt as though someone had taken my soul out

given it a good scrubbing in a hot bath

fed it a lovely warm bowl of chowder

and tucked it in again between freshly pressed sheets

that had been dried in the sun

then read it the most beautiful bedtime story in the whirled

NB the chowder [mentioned above] did not have any koi in it

so now i am back in my wee cottage

reading this splendid book

which i found at Gold Beach

where i called in on my journey because the nice woman at the coffee shop down by the cannery dock makes the best ever double shot moccha frappes, except that it was Sunday and her day off [and who shall blame her, it was a glorious day] and the coffee shop was closed

anyway

on pages 14 + 15 there is good advice

i'm glad i bought it even if i did pay rather more over the counter 

than i would have from the Book Depository

if you live in the North-West Pacific and like food 

it's essential reading

and

the philosophy applies to dye gathering.

except that windfalls don't get much of a mention.

the colours of Eugene

astonishing colour from dahlias

weld, a local weed

oak leaves

Eugene's sweetheart, Izzie

birch magic

woad found in the back yard

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Eugene has been a most interesting experience. there were lots of lovely coloured leaves drifting about

there was a sweet repeat student [who had been at class in Cleveland a year and a day ago]

i had the opportunity to actually meet several kindly folk with whom i had been corresponding but had not yet connected names and faces in the real whirled

and i had some truly delightful students who bravely followed me into metaphorical woods and greeted the bounding sleeve-rabbits with all the right noises. you know who you are and i thank you!

colour literally gathered from the gutters

we haven't had to look far

for beautiful colours here at Maiwa

they are literally drifting to the ground from 

local trees [within 200 yards of the dye studio]

no adjunct mordants are being used

just

leaves and water

paper and cloth

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i am having a splendid time

[i do hope they ask me back]