... passage to America

More often than not, I choose to sit in my jeep for the watery commute "to America"

(an expression used by the islanders when we refer to traveling to the mainland).

Some might call me anti-social

and that's ok in my books.

Most folks leave the car decks and head upstairs to the passenger area

to gab, or read ... maybe knit, work on the communal jigsaw puzzles, chug some coffee ...

I'm the weirdo who stays behind making photos on her phone.

I can't help myself.

Perhaps I'm an app-aholic?

good grief.

Where was I going with this post ... oh yes, to America ...

where I spied some scintillating rust at the shipyard

big pieces of steel marking the passage of time.

[ this one is for all my rust-nut friends ... you know who you are ]

We're all marking time ...
it's a big news night here in America.

These periodic supply runs off-island are nothing
if not exhausting, so what could be better fortification

than hot n' spicy organic soup ...

which again, I ate in my jeep ...

surely this comes as no surprise  [ grin ]?

These are only simple things, really ...

in comparison to decisions being made in the States this day, they are fluff.  As I write
it is early evening here on the west coast & we have
hours to go before we know.

I wonder where this country is going next?

At the toll booth the way was clear:  an arrow for  *go* and an X for *stop* ...

if only it were that easy.

See you on the other side, my friends ...
in the meantime, it may be time for another simple thing ~ a stiff brandy.



: : :


All photos were processed with Jazz

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Texture Tuesday ... storm

For those of us who are not there

we watch the news,

we listen.

We try not to worry ... too much.

Many will write about this one in the days to come.

There will be expressions of this event that go far beyond what I am capable of here ...

why, the mere thought of all the animals

and my throat closes.

I have a very hard time thinking about them, their helplessness.

Where will they go ... how will they manage.

Like a gift, 

Maya Stein's poem, her weekly offering for 10-Line Tuesday,  arrived in my mailbox filled with balm.

: : :

the geese in the mudhole

We drove by them yesterday, three hours before the storm made landfall.

They were bobbing in a lopsided circle in the shallow water, like teens

at a square dance waiting for instructions. In the car, sleeping bags, flashlights,

and a mounting urgency to find elusive safety. The trees looked reckless,

power lines dripping and swaying like my uncle's heart rate the week

before he died. Two days ago, I watched a woman feed them from a bag

of ripped-up bread, and thought about the nuisance they were, mucking the park

with their wattle and filth. Now, I envy their animal certainty, this buoyant grace

that shrinks from me each passing hour as I bend a nervous ear to the news,

while they lilt and flutter with each wave, admiring the views.

: : :

Thank you to Kim Klassen for her texture, sonnet magic,

which I applied over an iPhone shot & altered with apps.

To view more images from the group, they're HERE.

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Weaving a tideline

Today I constructed a makeshift loom

done the old way from things at  hand:

a basket ~ just the right size, long and narrow ~ and a warp of leftover jute

from the bean trellis.

I first wrote about this simple style of loom-making back HERE,

with gratitude for learning.

The next ingredient: castoffs from the scrap pile, stuffed in a holdall where every leftover bit 

from every project I've ever sewn resides in one big chaotic jumble.

Seams.  Refuse.  Hemlines.  Offcuts.  Selvage.  Lots and lots of fray.

Flotsam and jetsam of the textile variety.

I need to create a tideline for some completely ordinary stones

that are in the process of becoming

something else entirely.

You see, one thing led to another after my earlier  *choosing of the stones*  with dawg.

Stones came home with us.  They sat on the kitchen counter.  Then they sat on the bed.

And before you ask, no, they did not start to talk to me  ;>]

But something was brewing ...

an idea, another story on cloth,

carried by the weight of stones and the glint of thousands of tiny beads ...

somewhat autobiographical ... the only way I seem to be able to stitch a tale these days.

No matter how sidetracked I become (all the naturally dyed fabric I can't seem to stop churning out ... 

so beautiful in it's own right, but will it sit folded on a shelf for eternity?) I always come back to 

my one main truth ...

whether woven or boro-ed, appliqued, pieced or patched, 

textiles are the landscapes where my beadwork will live.

: : :

I'm inspired today by this video, sent by Barb from our merry band of dyers (thank you!)
It's for all us who haven't been satisfied with our creative work at one time or another ...
or now ...

Ira Glass on Storytelling from David Shiyang Liu on Vimeo.

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Tricolors

Definition of tricolored ...

a.  of a dog: having a coat of black, tan and white.

b.  having, using, or marked with three colors.

First known use:  1795

... seen today by the shore, 2012.

: : :

Playing with the theme, 'from above,' in Beyond Layers,

Thanks to French Kiss for her fabulous textures in the Glorious Grunge Collection ...

and to my dear woofie for her patient paws.

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A few ways to listen ...

observing ...

remembering ...

studying ...

attending ...

Can you hear it?

It's change

and it is afoot ...

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Beaded bezels and oh, so much more!

If you think you might have trouble being taught some beading skills

by a fella ...

or if you have any sort of allergic reaction to  C O L O R 

then do not and I repeat, DO NOT

take a beading workshop with Thom Atkins ...

for a fella he certainly is, and he is most definitely

not afraid of color.

Not one little bit.

Every year the La Conner Quilt & Textile Museum, WA,  holds a fantabulous Quilt Festival,
a week-long event that includes special workshops by visiting textile & embellishment artists.
Thom was part of this year's talented contingent ~
and so was his very talented and beadiful sister, Robin Atkins!
You may like to revisit my January post where I wrote about them during Thom's one-person exhibit,
"Ten Year's of Beaded Quilts" to see more examples of his work.

For our "Beaded Bezels & Borders" workshop we were given
design kits filled with fun fabric by Laurel Burch and multiple baggies
filled with coordinating beads ...
I enjoyed this approach a great deal for it pushes you away from your comfy spot
and tweaks your thinking into a whole new realm.
It's always good to visit new & unexplored places.

Here's a couple examples from my yet-to-be-finished sampler ...

a "fence" with a lacy edge and a

peyote stitched bezel around a flat-backed cabochon.

Here's my shisha mirror *loudmouth* bezel ...
I can see myself there on occasion.

Thom is looking very serious, but in actuality our workshop was filled with loads of laughter.
Here he's clarifying one of his methods,

patiently answering the dozens of questions we fired at him.

The demo table was covered with examples of his own samplers ....
be prepared to swoon.

Shisha mirror cab at the top, flat-backed cab on the bottom.

We learned how to stitch the rope edging as well ...

This detail was from his cat piece ... 

I loved the flouncy effect of all those beads around that cab.

Fearless with color, that's how I'd describe Thom's work.

And this is the sampler that almost disappeared  into the bottom of my bag.

Isn't she a BEAUT?!

If you ever have the opportunity to learn firsthand from Thom,

oh, I do hope you'll take it.

In the meantime, his bountifully beautiful new book has just hit the streets,

"Beading Artistry for Quilts: Basic Stitches & Embellishments Add Texture & Drama."

Check it out.  Many more samples of Thom's work are viewable online.

And then there's this ...

included in his bio, a most interesting excerpt:

"Some 30 years ago, his sister, Robin Atkins, taught him the basics of bead embroidery

on fabrics.  He's been fascinated with beads ever since, but sewing beads onto fabric and

making stained glass didn't produce a decent living.  He was also tired of the fragility of glass,

so he went back to college, where he learned about welding, forging, silversmithing, and

bronze casting.  Bronze casting gave him back the tactile surfaces and the subtleties of

three-dimensional curves and negative space.

A car accident terminated his career in sculpting in bronze.

While recovering from the surgery to repair his wrists and thumbs, 

he thought about sewing beads onto cloth in such a way

that the beads and the fabric both had a say in the design.

He's been working with the delicate balance between beads and fabric in his designs ever since."

Making the most of our human condition.

Isn't that the best of what we can all hope for?

: : :

Thank you for visiting today ... I hope you have enjoyed all the 

C O L O R

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One day

A perfect autumn morn;  still, warm-ish ... seamless

... until the sun appeared with her own side seam

highlighting an oceanographic hemline outside ...

right angle seams inside.

Not particularly seaworthy,

but my very finest emotional thimble.

Destination ...

your drifting days are over.

Smooth sailing over calm seas,

peace at the end.

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Abundance, of sorts...

Our merry band of dyers reconvened, armed with the bounty of the season...

solidago (goldenrod), spent blooms of deep purple hollyhocks,

madrone bark, perennial sunflowers,

the last of the red carrot tops,

and a sumptuous, aromatic pile of wild blackberries.

Cooked to (hopefully) perfection.

Finally, I was able to attain two of my favorite colors on the same cloth...sage green

and purple.

I almost fell into a swoon.

Of particular interest was the mottling effect caused by

the resist marks of the blackberry seeds.

As it happens, I am nearing the end of this very good read...

along with the "heroine" of the story.

Nearing her end, that is.

After finishing Ahab's Wife (also penned by Naslund), I was craving more by this author

and although I have not been quite as captivated throughout this one,

it has been a fascinating walk through the decadence and royal life of 1700's France nonetheless.

I don't know what has happened to me.

I hated Chemistry in school and never before have I been attracted to *historical* books,

even fictional ones.

Now, I seem to be quite obsessed with both.

I found myself pre-mixing a copper mordant 

to see if the carrot top bath would become an enhanced shade of green,

and today I'm contemplating the best method to perform lightfastness strip tests 

on the cloth life of a blackberry!

When I gaze at this portrait of Marie Antoinette, I barely notice its finer attributes

such as the delicately honed lace detail or the luminous quality of the skin.

Instead, when I look at this scrumptious painting

painted by Her Majesty's most beloved court painter , Elizabeth Louise Vigee-Lebrun, 

in 1783,

I wonder about the color source for the blue dye of that silk dress...

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Navigation: bundle #4

Looks like a dirty old rag.

If you walked by it on the street, you wouldn't stop to pick it up...

if you saw it laying on a park bench,

you probably wouldn't want to sit next to it....

even if you knew there were red rose petals stuffed inside

or that it was a delicately edged vintage napkin hiding under all that *grime*.

Strange things can happen during a two-day eucalyptus and iron soak...

Heavy linen seems to love being pre-mordanted with ash water.

Oh, what a learning curve all this trial & error has been....is....

every cloth becomes another building block towards understanding.  There are moments

when it all feels uphill and quite arduous,

and

very labor intensive.

Thank goodness for important reminders.

Just

keep

going.

: : :

'Saint Vitus Cathedral'

by Josef Sudek, 1924-25

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Navigation: bundle #3

After a certain amount of bundling, you start to look for signs...

any kind of indication that something is brewing inside.

That green there in the center?

That's a promise waiting to be exposed.

Silk organza,

a few square chips of copper sheeting, some sprigs of purple Salvia 'Caradonna' 

and a handful of fresh salal leaves (Gaultheria shalon), wrapped around a small can

and simmered in a bath of red-leaved berberis for about an hour,

then left to air dry for - you guessed it - three weeks...

Do you see the imprint of the salal leaf there on the top half, about center?

Not one iota of color to be found!

Now, India says that  everything  gives color, one way or the other,

but so far (and after four tries) salal is my nemesis.

Known for its medicinal qualities, it can be prepared as a tincture or tea

and used as a poultice for insect bites & stings...

but as a dye plant...

meh.

What to try next...

perhaps soaking the leaves in vinegar first?

Sing them a lullaby?  Beg on bended knee?

There might be a wee gift in it for anyone reading who can provide the secret...

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