in place

Last month I quite suddenly found myself sliding down a slippery slope...from a year filled with workshops and exhibitions to... nix.

Thanks to the invisible scourge (our planet doing a bit of housekeeping) I now have a small fortune in flight credits (that I suspect may never be used) and all the time in the whirled to spend with my grand-daughter.

I'm very lucky that my self-isolation takes place on 500 acres ( "don't fence me in" was always my theme song ) and also that I quite like a solitary lifetstyle (I've spent nearly thirty years as a sole parent). I know others are not quite so fortunate, so I created an online gathering I have called "in place", that offers small daily classes, readings and prompts to help people get through the days of isolation.

"in place" began as a 23 day course, but has now been extended for as long as we endure the Great Pause. Together we are sailing our armchairs around the village well.

I've committed to keep posting a little something every day. Participants are stitching on used tea-towels to create work for what was intended as an online exhibition but has also now blossomed into an actual exhibition to be held at Fabrik Arts + Heritage, in the old Onkaparinga Woollen Mill complex at Lobethal in South Australia some time next year.

We have been drawing, stitching, writing.
Presently we are dabbling in a little indigo.
We are also making a small film together (clips are coming in from all over the whirled).

There's still time to join us if you like...the Great Pause doesn't look like finishing any time soon.

For an investment of $353 Australian dollars (or you can choose a 3 to 6 month payment plan) you'll have lifetime access to the course. The Aussie shekel is at an all time low at present (last time I looked it was worth 60 US cents) and so far 24 dailies have been uploaded.

I'll keep going until the Great Pause is over (meaning we can all go dance in the streets again) or the Beast knocks me off my feet. I hope it doesn't...I very much like the idea of continuing to sail my armchair (dog willing and with a fair wind).

Want to know more?  this link will take you there.  

leaf love and a month-long magical mystery tour

Would you like to join me for a workshop?

A long one that lasts a month?

Want to learn different ways of bundling to

let those lovely string marks shine on your work?

Want to know to bring saved dried leaves back to life?

Would you like to ease into a daily morning writing practice,

connect with a whirled-wide community and

dance your way through February?

Why February?

It might be the shortest month but in the North,

though we all know that the earth needs a rest before

the abundance of spring, the long hours of dark together

with driech weather can get to your soul.

And not in a good way.

Here in the South we just feel the roasting

heat of summer will never end.

So once again I have dreamed up an adventure

that can be enjoyed from wherever you are in the whirled.

It begins now, with a wee bit of prep, then goes to sleep

while you deal with whatever

the Festive Season is throwing at you 😉.

Late in January I'll send a wakey-wakey email

to remind you that the fun is about to begin,

and then every day in February

an email will fly in from me, with instructions

for the mystery project that we are making together. 

All I will tell you now is that it is both beautiful and useful,

and that we will be using cloth from your stash

and your ragbag along with whatever threads

you want to stitch with,

and all of the beads and buttons your heart desires.

You'll begin each day with quiet moments of grounding,

light a candle, do a little writing and then work on your project,

step by step until it all comes together

and you take it out into the light of day

at the end of the month.

And did I mention pie?

There will be pie.

Want to know more ?

Please click on the heart below.

a strong contender for new favourite skirt

after my students all packed their bags and headed back into the whirled
I spread out my bits and pieces and began work on a few garments, pieced together
from bits of other garments

this evening I unbundled my new skirt...realising too late that I hadn't made any "pre-dye" pictures.
dang.

the dyestuffs are all locally gathered.
predominantly eucalyptus with a little casuarina and the odd acacia pod tossed in to spice the mix

the skirt is made from two pairs of mens trousers. the labels on both stated they were a silk/wool blend.
the dyepot says otherwise.

still, I'm fond of silver greys and taupes so I'm not losing any sleep over it

the skirt was stitched by hand using merino+silk thread. it's picked up the colour rather nicely

there are eleven pockets on the skirt, so it will be an excellent wandering garment
room for leaves and drawings and poems and a clean hankie or two
along with a small notebook, a pencil and the camera that thinks it is a telephone

the picture above shows the lining. it's a silk+linen mix I had from Beautiful Silks

something in the chemical history of the cleaning of the pants that make up this skirt has pushed the usual red tones of the Eriococcus coccineus infesting the twigs of one of the eucalypts to yellow

two patches of silk stitched on to the skirt show that the fabric of the original trousers was either not what it stated on the label OR had been drycleaned so often that it responded oddly in the dyebath

this bright bit WAS wool. it's part of a jacket I was cutting up, now a nice detail on the hem of the dress

part of the waistband of one of the trousers became pockets

and unfortunately I didn't have a real body to hand so this shot of the skirt on the dummy will have to do for now.
I'm planning to wear it on the New Mexico adventure, just in case it snows. but not with that top (which is really an apron in gestation)

for the record : no plastic or ferrous sulphate used, but there were bits of iron in the dyepot - which is all you need, really.

Je prends un demi,s'il vous plaît

the felt+stone story continues

as any experienced feltmaker will have surmised

felting on stone does not allow for much "shrinkage"

as there is a solid object at the core of operations

and therefore the felt will not have been fulled to completion

i was pondering this notion

and mentally labelled it "semi-felt"

which led to the French "demi-feutre"

[which would more properly be "demi-feutré"]

but then the German possibilities were not so snappy

..."halb-filz" lacks energy
and "halb-gefilzt" sounds positively insulting
[even though German is my first language]

but enough musing. the felted stone shown in the earlier post

which, incidentally

began with scoured, undyed white merino wool

came out of the dyepot richly cocoa-coloured

which is how i wanted it

curiously, the inside layer, close to the stone

was a rich silver grey. a cause de quoi? je ne sais pas.

but i'm thinking about it.

anyway i had a plan for this little sample

having an eye of seeing [small magnifying glass]

that was beginning to become a bit scratched through its residence in an apron pocket

and needing something soft that i could hang around my neck

to keep the glass within reach

+  +  +

demi-felt [a good bit sturdier than pre-felt]  

is delightful to stitch upon.

and stitching is a good means of securing the slightly fuzzy surface

however

in the course of stitching

the object began to resemble [in shape] the purse of a ram lamb

as the stitching had pulled it in somewhat

[in Australia the testicles and scrota of sheep are referred to obliquely as "stones" and "purses". go figure. and then think about what a sporran might originally have been made from]

not attractive

the great thing about felting with wool

is that it is a continuous and ongoing process

[also irreversible despite what people mumble about the use of Fuller's Earth and stretching]

so

i thought i would go back to basic principles and play with the notion of

"shocking" the wool

by dipping it first in very hot and then in very cold, water

which worked a treat 

as well as offering a happy reassurance about the substantivity [i made have just made that word up] of eucalyptus dyes

as you can see, no colour is leaching into that very hot water at all

before i began the re-felting 

i drew around the object on an old envelope

so i would be able to compare shrinkage [or not]

as it turned out, once it had been shocked

and then re-shaped [with the help of another, smaller stone]

it hadn't really lost much volume at all

although the stitching now sits nicely into the surface

rather than looking like the icing on a slightly strange cupcake

the next challenge was to bring the stitching [mostly glaring white, which i had initially thought would be rather nice] closer to the colour of the pouch itself

sometimes things are better when you have to discover them through investigation

rather than being glaringly obvious [both in actuality and as metaphor]

so i pootled down to the creek [sadly dry]

for a bit of windfall gathering

wrapped the pouch around another stone to help it keep its shape

[remember that wool has the memory of an elephant for what happens to it] 

and then nestled my little treasure

into a pot full of [windfall, gathered from a city carpark] citriodora leaves

which were once classified as eucalyptus but have now been renamed corymbia

by the white-coated botany-boffins

 
i poured in the water that had been used for felting

[no soap or wetting agents used, so no dramas]

tossed in the rind of a lemon that was lying on the sink

[extra acidity always makes for better eucalyptus colour - which is why the need for alum as mordant escapes me]

+   +   +

  why am i making small things?

firstly because i need a small pouch for that wee glass

and secondly,

because it's dawned on me that with the rises in airfares

and increase in the cost of accompanying bags

those of us travelling to workshops [whether as student or forest guide] are feeling the pain in our hip pockets

so

i'm playing* with ways of making small things

through which many techniques and tricks can be learned

small things are easier to finish in class

there are less materials to carry [for the student, at least]

and with the application of a little thought

all of the learning can be applied to larger objects in the student's own studio

part 3 of this series follows soon

+   +   +

*  remember the words of George Bernard Shaw...

"we don't cease to play because we grow old, we grow old because we cease to play"

in which Alabama meets the Deep South

after a satisfying morning when i realised i had "gone about as fur as ah could go"

with 'muddy waters' before the big install [which begins tomorrow]

i spent a couple of happy hours putting the flesh on the bones of an exciting new collaboration together with a Very Good Friend [expect to hear all about this in the not too distant future]

 as there hadn't been enough rainfall to even think about softening the earth

[so weeding was OUT]

i thought i would keep the hands from being idle

while the grey matter was charging about wildly upstairs

and continued on with the sample from yesterday

it was fun to play with for a while

[all the colours above are from Eucalyptus cinerea, even the grey]

but now it's back to work

cos

someone is watching me.

it's a wrap, folks.

my four days in Los Angeles have sped by.

Claudia and her family have been so very kind

made me welcome, fed and watered me,

given me a comfy bed

& taken me to gaze at extraordinary flowers in the dark of the night.

today was the last day of our class

there was much last minute bundling

a good deal of stitching

considerable trepidation when faced with cutting

 

and at the very end

the New Orleans tradition of lagniappe 

[something extra]

introduced in San Francisco by Nikki

made its way into our class as well

during our preparation day for the class

Claudia had taken me to Runyon Canyon

to gather windfalls

i happened to notice a large infestation of Dactylopius coccus*

on an Opuntia cactus

we scraped a small amount off with a stick

[about a half teaspoon's worth]

and i put it in my backpack

today it became the last bundle

not a bad wrap at all.

* for those wondering what a Dactylopius is
it's cochineal
meaning the red stuff is beetlejuice. literally.

on the other side

it was a bit hard getting away

Miss Martha was not best pleased

and made no secret of it

cattle class on the plane was even more vile than usual

the tubby gentleman occupying the seat next to me had seven elbows

and an overly liberal attitude to the passing of wind

- thank goodness for the adjustable air thingy

i stitched a lot

to try and get my dress ready for here

not quite Alabama Stitch Style

but i'm thinking it will need those strong surface elements

if it is to carry off a forest floor of leaf prints

 when i finally reached San Francisco

after the obligatory hour-long shuffle through LAX

[not a criticism, i quite understand the need to be cautious about letting gypsies like me cross the borders]

i was delighted to find an exquisite exhibition

at the airport

all about the acoutrements of hand-sewing. 

i decided it was a SIGN.

i headed for the great outdoors

and a glorious day, full of happy bouncing dogs

weather that played peekaboo with the Bridge

between bouts of brilliant sunshine

i wandered a long way

to make up for hours in the sardine can

found a lovely burgundy-leaved form of Agonis flexuosa

which would be a joy in the dyepot

yielding lovely colour as well as a delicious peppermint fragrance

[i think i shall be checking the pavements near here

when i'm ready to dye that frock]

  

found an abundance of rust

 

some lovely stones to stack

and more irresistible images

[using the polaroid filter on the batfone]

words of wisdom from William Blake

and finally

just to make certain that i really was in the right place

i found the 'four winds'

marked on the pavement

near Fort Point