True Stitches

It's All in the Touch

2012-02-04T12:01:00.001-08:00

I think it's official: I have started to feel old. It's not the achy joints or the memory lapses - those I attribute to my accident a few years back. No, it's the sense that technology has zoomed past me and is not even checking the rear view mirror to see if I'm alright.

I don't think I'm a technophobe - hey, I have a blog! That must put me in the modern spirit of things. Shouldn't it? But I saw a cartoon in the New Yorker recently that depicted a big pie chart categorizing people who blog. There was one-third people who make stuff, one-third people who self-promote, and one-third people who engage in conspiracy theories.

You might share my mystification at why this cartoon is funny. I thought making stuff was a good thing, certainly not on a par with egomania or conspiracy theorist ranting. But I have been vaguely aware that blogging is not cutting edge, and why should it be? I consider it a useful format to record and store pictures of my work and life, and I am delighted that some people find it interesting enough to check in on from time to time. Blogging has brought me friends and opportunities, and expanded my world.

Yet, that's about as far as I go in the realm of technical innovation in communication. I don't have a cell phone, I don't Twitter, I don't have one of those tablet thingies, I don't read e-books. In fact, I am so far behind that I don't even know what I don't have. And don't want. Even if I could afford to update gadgets at the rate the fast lane demands, the whole concept appalls me. (Which shouldn't surprise you, given that I plan to interpret Canada's first natural history document in 17th C. needlework.)

What it ultimately comes down to, for me, is touch. It creeps me out the way people stroke their little electronic devices. It's far too intimate an interface, in my opinion. While that may suggest I have unresolved issues of a personal nature, I prefer to see it as a sign of how important touch is. Our hands are incredibly sensitive and dexterous beyond what any machine can achieve. My work relies on the skill of my fingers. The expressive nuances of texture have meaning for me in the way the slick surface of an ITouch can never match.

I type this blog on an old Dell laptop. I use a mouse, never the touchpad if I can avoid it. I love the slight resistance of the keys as I press them. (I don't long for an old Underwood typewriter, that's too steampunk even for me.)

Maybe it goes back to the days when I first worked as a graphic artist, manually drawing perfect lines with pen and ink, cutting galleys of type and pasting them on boards in preparation for mechanical reproduction. It took meticulous skill and a trained eye, endless patience and a professional touch. I hope these traits have stayed with me years after that particular job description has gone the way of medieval manuscript illumination.

The bygone ways are not all good, of course, as surely as the new ways are not all bad. The main thing is communication. As the old phone company ads used to say, "Reach out and touch someone." I would only add, "And, if you can, knit them a sweater."

Groundhog Day Prognostications, Cats and Knitting

2012-02-02T13:15:00.000-08:00

One of my favourite movies of all time is Groundhog Day, with Bill Murray. I love its story of experience, insight, acceptance and transformation, and see it as an allegory of the psychological healing process. So, in that spirit, and with Sherri Lynn Wood's new quilt-along in mind, I consulted the I Ching as to whether there will be six more weeks of creative winter, or if the new projects of spring are about to begin.

I got a great reading. Apparently now is an auspicious time for me to act with insight and embark on an empathetic voyage. I also will be offered an excellent opportunity for self-improvement, and to act with generousity will bring great rewards. I'll take that as a "Yes", and plan to begin working on the Codex Canadensis on a small scale to start. Thank you, Oracle.

Meanwhile, I have been working on the Hitchhiker scarf that people are making these days. I'm not much of a Ravelry person, so as usual, am way behind the pack. I first saw the scarf on Louisa's blog, and thought it would be the perfect use for that silk and merino I spun up a while back. It's quite fun, although I am now on the second half, which people report is awfully tedious. Angus of course sat on it as I was trying to take a picture - he always brings the proper level of feline priorities to any project.

I added a green bead to each point. I have never used beads in knitting before, and I wish I had used slightly bigger ones here, but they were on hand, and what else is one to do at 9 p.m. at night on a small island?

I also finished spinning the gray fleece, and have begun sampling.

Weaving Hand

2012-01-26T10:08:00.000-08:00

Once a week, Hand/Eye sends four or five articles to my inbox. Always interesting, but one this week really hit the mark for me on all levels. Annie Waterman's article about a Brooklyn weaving studio called Weaving Hand, that brings together community, culture and art therapy. Check out the Weaving Hand blog and website for some amazing images and stories.

What a wonderful logo!

Mid-Winter Colour & Creative Crisis

2012-01-22T14:58:00.000-08:00

What every January in the Pacific Northwest needs: crocuses on the windowsill. A friend gave me the bowl of bulbs in November, I moistened the soil and kept them in a dark place 'til just before Christmas, when they looked like pale fingers pushing through the soil. I thought they were paperwhites, so was surprised and happy to see simple crocuses. And Mani-Neko is happy too, I think.

I have been pondering on a project. Ever since seeing the amazing drawings in the recently published Codex Canadensis, I have been wanting to render the images in thread. One thought led to another, and possibly since I was simultaneously reading Joan Edwards's book on Crewel Embroidery, it seemed perfectly logical to put 17th C. embroidery techniques together with 17th C. drawing, and to create large panels similar to 17th C. bed curtains. Bed curtains of that time were often worked in crewel-stitched tree of life motifs, and the Codex is a collection of the flora, fauna and peoples present in Eastern Canada when the European missionaries arrived, something similar to a tree of life itself.

There's lots more going on conceptually, and I think it could be a fabulously exciting piece, but I have had to get a hold of myself and think about the sheer logistics involved. It would probably take a couple of years to complete, working on it every day. Because of my back and hands, I could probably only work on it about four hours a day total, and it would be the only project going, with any of my other interests falling by the wayside. Could I keep up my interest and energy for that long?

And then there's the whole issue of what I would do with the finished work. I think it's a natural for exhibition in the public gallery realm, but I have been out of the trend-conscious straight art world for such a while now I really can't be sure. I used to get grants and exhibit professionally, but since my accident I thought I had left that world behind. I don't know that it's possible to re-enter that easily - it looks as though I didn't take my career seriously, whereas I think what happened was a shifting of priorities.

In any case, it's not like I have room in my house for a set of 17th C. bed curtains. Most of the art I have produced over the years is either sold, or left behind in the attics and basements of places I have lived. I have even been known to dumpster artwork. (Somehow what I trashed always seemed to be removed before the garbage collectors came. I smile to think there might be people out there who have rescued or re-purposed my work, and may be enjoying it in one way or another to this day.)

But maybe I am just getting ahead of myself. When I create a new piece I usually can "see" it complete in my mind's eye, and most of the process is simply production. I don't usually change a piece much as I go, although I have been trying to loosen up in that regard. Perhaps I should start with a sample to see what happens. How can I resist an image like this one?

Image from Library and Archives Canada. See a virtual exhibition here.

Philadephia Fiber

2012-01-18T13:32:00.000-08:00

I had a nice note the other day from Diane Savona, an artist and curator who is putting together a show called Mending=Art as part of FiberPhiladelphia 2012. Diane was very kindly asking me for permission to include one of my mending posts in material that will accompany the exhibition. I said "yes" right away, and then went exploring the FiberPhiladelphia site.

Wow! I was impressed to see that FiberPhiladelphia is a city wide series of events and exhibitions focusing on the fiber arts. It looks like it will run from now through May, with many different events - check the calendar. And it happens every two years. It strikes me that Philadelphia must be a very enlightened and progressive city to feature the textile arts in such a way.

And Diane's gallery page is wonderful to browse through. Her work uses found textiles and objects to create evocative quilt-like pieces. In one recent work she has incorporated bits of debris from last year's Japanese tsunami in maplike patchwork, and in another series, "Fossil Garments", she layers deconstructed lace garments with embedded sewing tools and notions, viewing clothing as a kind of archeology.

A Gem Indeed

2012-01-18T12:11:00.001-08:00

I have been reading Crewel Embroidery In England for the past few days. I was going to do a review, but Mary Corbet's Needle'n'Thread has a wonderfully illustrated review already done, and I agree with pretty much everything she says, so go read her thoughts first, if you like.

If you are wondering how such a book, printed in 1975 and with many fewer colour illustrations than are customary these days could hold my attention, I have to say the text was downright ROLLICKING! Vivid, opinionated and thoroughly knowledgable, Joan Edwards's words create the liveliest descriptions of embroidery I have ever come across. She lectured and taught embroidery for the Inner London Education Authority and the V&A Museum, and I bet her lessons must have been a treat.

One of the most interesting parts of the book is the timeline at the back, which parallels the history of British monarchs, events, artists and architecture, and embroidery, tapestry and lace. One can clearly see how trends in textile design followed breakthroughs in technology and exploration over the centuries. Edwards also includes a generous bibliography titled "The pleasures of reading about embroidery."

I love the book's epilogue.

"From time to time there comes to every embroiderer moments of the purest possible pleasure. The particular piece of work on which she has been engaged is finished. She removes it from the frame and spreads it out between her hands, examining every detail with minute attention. It is as though she is seeing it for the first time. Out of her own skill, initiative, and invention she has created something that pleases her. Briefly she allows herself to savour her sense of satisfaction and fulfillment.

Maybe, she concedes, it is not of quite such surpassing excellence as she had hoped to acheive when she made the design, chose the threads, and decided exactly where to place the first stitch, but on balance as good as or even a little better than her previous work.

Will anybody else, she wonders, realise how much thought and care has gone into it? Will it by some happy chance be miraculously preserved, forgotten but not destroyed, eventually to become a treasured family heirloom, and even perhaps to find its way into a great museum, where scholars will document it and embroiderers study it as an interesting example of historical needlework? Surely, she reflects, it is not asking very much to be remembered as a woman who was clever with her needle.

Even as she plays fondly with her pipe dreams, she knows in her heart that its chances of survival are minimal; that although it is here today, pretty, fresh, and colourful, by tomorrow it will be faded and grubby, the threads worn and the colours faded; and that because the present sets very little store by its immediate past, the next generation is as likely to destroy as cherish it. Perhaps she will comfort herself with the thought that, like a garden, much of embroidery's charm lies in the fact that it is completely ephemeral.

But to finish one piece of work is only an excuse to begin another, the idea for which she has been turning over in her mind for a long while. She cannot wait to get on with it for she is irresistibly fascinated by the art of working intricate stitches and by the variety of decorative effects she can obtain with them; by watching a design develop along the lines and in the colours she has chosen for it; and by the knotty little problems she is constantly being called upon to resolve.Absorbed in bringing into focus all her technical expertise, taste, and ingenuity, and balancing them on the point of her needle, she has neither regret nor hesitation. The past and the future may take care of themselves. Time becomes meaningless. Only the embroidery she is engaged upon at the present moment is important."

Spinning the Unspinnable

2012-01-08T17:10:00.000-08:00

This is really interesting...
Spinning the unspinnable is an article by nanotechnologists at The University of Texas at Dallas. They have invented a "broadly deployable technology for producing weavable, knittable, sewable, and knottable yarns containing up to 95 weight percent of otherwise unspinnable guest powders and nanofibers. A minute amount of host carbon nanotube web, which can be lighter than air and stronger pound-per-pound than steel, confines guest particulates in the corridors of highly conducting scrolls without interfering with guest functionality for such applications as energy storage, energy conversion, and energy harvesting."

The yarn structure is based on "Archimedean and Fermat spirals and spiral combinations found in nature and revered by diverse cultures for thousands of years." Amazingly, the yarns are thinner than a human hair, and have applications in things like lithium-ion batteries and biofuel cells, as well as clothing that could store or generate energy.

I've always said that spinning infuses yarn with energy, but I had no idea it could go this far.

B&W

2012-01-07T14:49:00.000-08:00

I finally got the beast of a warp onto the loom and am now at the satisfying, soothing stage of weaving it off. I couldn't believe how difficult it was to thread and wind on, but given that it has been 15 years since I was last weaving seriously, and even then I never used such a fine yarn (16/2) and so many ends (614), I guess I should have known. But I probably wouldn't have started it if I HAD known, so I'll just consider it an exercise in patience and give myself a gold star.

It is to be a traditional butcher's apron for my sweetie. He could buy a perfectly serviceable one from a chef's supplier for under $20, but this is a slow cloth for a slow foodie. It has already taken me about 20 hours to wind the warp and dress the loom, and will take about the same length of time to weave off the six yards of cloth. I at least had the presence of mind to wind enough warp for two aprons, thereby getting two for the time of one.

But working with black thread at this dark, gloomy time of year is a real challenge. It's hard to see with the middle-aged eyes. Happily, next month I am signed up for a weaving workshop with Jane Stafford that focuses on colour and design, so I hope to get a good fill of bright colour then.

Meanwhile, the pile of grey yarn is growing. I figure it takes about 2 hours for each skein, from fleece to finished yarn. I have sixteen skeins now, and will probably need another sixteen. Too late, I remembered Stephanie complaining about knitting for a big man in one of her Yarn Harlot postings. Wish that had come to mind before I decided to knit a sweater for the chef! It will probably take over 100 hours of spinning and knitting - good thing that's what I like to do.

And, thinking about the endless hours of repetitive handwork and how soothing and centering it is for me, I realize I would probably be stark raving mad if I didn't have the textile arts in my life. Not only are they therapeutic, I have something to show for it at the end. Positive all round!

Following Feathers

2012-01-02T11:56:00.000-08:00

I just checked out Jude Hill's Magic Feather project slide show. I clicked on it, not knowing what to expect, and discovered that each of the 639 stitched feathers are shown. I wondered if I would see my contribution, and as the amazing variety of feathers wafted by, found myself making comparisons and finding favourites. My little brain also started to wonder how Jude is going to put them together - where to begin? When my eagle feather showed up 2/3 of the way through, I felt a warm glow of participation, of being part of something special.

A truly lovely project. Magic, indeed!

I actually saw the sun rise today - a rare event for me as I am usually quite slothful in the morning.

Happy New Year, Every One!

2011-12-31T10:30:00.001-08:00

I make a habit of cleaning the house on December 31 so that I don't drag my dust from the past year into the new one. In that spirit I offer the following opinion, recognising that while nobody wants to end 2011 on a sour note, it's better than carrying it into shiny, fresh 2012.

I should preface this admittedly cranky review of Hoopla: The Art of Unexpected Embroidery with a couple of comments. First, I paid full cover price for this book, at my wonderful local independent bookstore, Watermark. I am glad I did, since I believe it means a few more dollars stay in my community. Second, I could have been in this book. So could you, if you had seen the posting asking for submissions. I didn't send anything in, because I don't believe self-selected collections of unpaid artists are a valid indicator of what's out there, and I think artists should be paid for their work if we have any hope of being taken seriously, either by ourselves or others.

On the other hand, Hoopla contains the work of several artists who I know and respect. The brilliant Betsy Greer contributed the foreword. Sherri Lynn Wood is featured, as is Jenny Hart. Although I have never met Ray Materson, either in person or on-line, I have been in awe of both his story and his talent for several years. I have great admiration for the work of Penny Nickels and Alexandra Walters. That they are included here gives the book more legitimacy that I think it deserves.

Sad to say, Hoopla falls short for me on several fronts. Maybe author Leanne Prain tried to cover too much, or maybe her publisher didn't give her the editing or design support she needed. My biggest criticism is of the how-to section. God help anyone trying to learn to stitch from these instructions. The diagrams are confusing and in several cases, just plain wrong. ( And I'm not talking about an alternative way of making the stitch, either. Couching, chain stitch and French knots are all screwy here.) There is no excuse for this since so many clear, accurate instructions are available, on line and in print. Prain states more than once that embroidery skills are passed on orally, but her verbal instructions are not any clearer than the diagrams. (I don't know where she got the idea that embroidery is learned through oral tradition, since pretty much everyone I know learned it visually, by being shown.)

The design of the book causes some frustration as well. There are numerous sidebars, some with useful information, some not. For example, there is a sidebar that helpfully lists some possible containers for your embroidery project: an old eyeglass case, a 1950's ceramic planter, a cigar box, a typewriter case, a coffee tin. (Huh? If you can't think of something practical to store your project in, this list is not going to help.) Then, in another sidebar, buried in a list of six other hints, is some of the most valuable information for a new embroiderer: to separate your strands of floss and recombine them in the number desired before threading your needle. I believe this technique is commonly known as stripping the thread, although Prain doesn't use that term here.

A full page is given to a warning not to lick the end of your thread to point it for insertion into the needle's eye, lest the moisture cause your needle to rust. Funny, I lick my thread all the time, and have never had a rusty needle. There is a great deal of mystifying information on transferring patterns to cloth, involving needless steps (ie. "Trim your pattern to 1/4" from the edge so you have something to hold onto." Huh? A quarter of an inch is not much to hold onto, why make it hard for yourself?) There is not a lot of discussion about thread, but vintage thread and floss are suggested without the caveat that cotton becomes brittle and dry over time. Depending on how "vintage" your thread is, you could be facing a lot of grief with breakage and tangling.

Odd bits of instruction abound. Prain advises that stitches be no longer than 1/4" when doing satin stitch, otherwise the shiny, smooth effect will be lost. She says cross stitch is always best worked on Aida cloth. A project of counted cross stitch is called needlepoint. Securing your thread on the back of the work isn't necessary because the stitches will stay in place on their own. (!)

The photographs are of an uneven quality and often more attention seems to have been given to the settings and photo styling than clear details of the stitches. Overall, the look of the book is cute, fun, and (they tell me) hip, so it may be that I am just out of touch. (Which reminds me of a woman my age I saw yesterday with a button that read "I may be too old to understand your music... but that doesn't mean it doesn't suck!" pinned to her very cool, vintage black leather motorcycle jacket. But I digress...)

Although I confess to not reading every word, what I did read revealed many typos and formatting inconsistencies, which are more the publisher's responsibility than the author's. It's frustrating and sad to see contemporary embroidery, a field so close to my heart, not given the care and respect it deserves. Obviously, the intention here was for a popularization of innovative embroidery, and a debunking of the idea that needlework is all quaint hearts and flowers, but, excuse me, The Subversive Stitch came out in 1989, and artists like Hannah Hoch, Sonia Delauney and Sophie Tauber-Arp were making textile art that challenged notions of gender roles back in the early 20th century.

There are quite a few projects featured here, none of which I would ever make. There is no bibliography, although there is one page of nine (count 'em) website listings . For all its claims to inspire innovative stitching, I don't think Hoopla is going to be regarded in years to come as the definitive volume of the current generation of stitching in the same way Therese de Dillmont's Encyclopedia of Needlework or Erica Wilson's Embroidery Book or Mary Thomas's Embroidery Book were for their respective eras. However, many of the artists included are very worthy of attention, and their own words are probably the most inspiring aspect of the whole book.

I recommend checking Hoopla out very carefully before purchasing it - that is, unless you are feeling flush and want to contribute a few dollars to your local economy.

Let's Have an Erica Love Fest!

2011-12-22T20:15:00.000-08:00

I had no idea that Erica Wilson, mother of the 1970's needlework revival, had passed away on December 13th, 2011. Does the CBC (where I seem to get all my information these days) have no sense of priority? What the hell were their journalists doing reporting on Stephen Harper's latest abuse of power? Anna Maria Tremonti totally missed the chance to talk about the millions of people Erica inspired to take up needlework and knitting. Jian Ghomeshi could have actually started a program with one of his pseudo-hipster essays on how crewel embroidery made our cultural landscape richer and more inclusive.

But no. I (and apparently the entire Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) totally missed the news. Several years ago, I wrote a bit about Erica when I made one of her Christmas bird ornament kits. Since then, I have scooped up her books whenever I come across them at the thrift store. We have much to thank her for: clear instruction, vivid, innovative design, and a wide ranging enthusiasm for the textile arts. Her classic, lady-like style might even be somewhat responsible for the backlash trend of "Not Your Mother's Embroidery"-type work we see today.

I have never seen her TV show, but I love the NY Times comparison of her to Julia Child. I imagine this tall, blonde woman with a Scottish accent, enthusiastic plying her needle and thread, miraculously pulling finished work from the hoop just minutes after beginning a piece. She made it seem effortless, and, like Julia, changed the domestic aspirations of a generation of women (and a few men.)

Do you have memories of Erica Wilson? Did you ever make one of her kits or learn from one of her books? Please share your stories.

Buche de Noel

2011-12-14T12:46:00.000-08:00

Whether it is known as a Yule Log, Buche de Noel or Ceppo di Natale, this glorious dessert is classic holiday fare. I made my first one the other day - although extremely time-consuming, it was definitely worth it as the centrepiece of the neighbourhood Christmas party. Here's the recipe: (And bear in mind this might take 2 or 3 days, so plan ahead.)

Step One: Make a simple sponge sheet cake:
1 cup cake flour, sifted
1/4 tsp baking powder
Pinch salt
4 egg yolks
1 cup sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
4 egg whites
1 Tbsp sugar

Icing sugar

Sift flour with baking powder and salt. Beat egg yolks with 1 cup sugar and vanilla until very thick and pale yellow. In another bowl, beat egg whites until thick and add 1 Tbsp sugar, continuing to beat until stiff. Sift flour mixture into yolk mixture a little at a time and fold in between additions. Gently fold in egg whites using a rubber spatula.

Pour into a 10x15" jellyroll pan that is lined with buttered parchment paper. Spread evenly and bake in a preheated 400 F. oven for 12 to 15 minutes, watching carefully. Cake is done when it is a light golden brown. Take another sheet of parchment paper and sprinle with powdered icing sugar. Invert cake onto sheet and peel off buttered parchment. Gently roll the cake jelly roll style with the sugared paper, and let cool for 20 minutes.

Step 2: Make a Mocha Butter Cream:
1/2 cup water
1 1/4 cups sugar
5 egg yolks
1 1/2 cups unsalted butter, softened but not oily or melted
2 ounces unsweetened chocolate, melted and cooled
2 tsps. instant coffee powder, dissolved in a little water, or brandy

Combine water and sugar and boil until the soft ball stage or 238 F. on a candy thermometer. Beat egg yolks until thick and yellow and slowly pour in hot syrup, beating constantly. (It's good to do this with an electric mixer unless you have a very strong arm.) Continue beating til mixture is cool. Beat in butter a little at a time, then add chocolate and coffee. You want it to be thick enough to spread, so if it is too soft, put in fridge until of spreading consistency.

Step 3: I also made a chestnut cream, which was kind of insane, but gave a beautiful rich, earthy flavour.

1 pound chestnuts, boiled shelled and skinned
1 1/2 cup powdered sugar
1/4 cup rum or brandy
1/2 cup butter
Mocha cream

Puree the chestnuts in a food processor. Add the sugar, booze and butter and process until smooth. Taste, and if you like, 1/2 to 1 cup of the mocha cream can be added for optimum spreadability.

Step 4: The cake is gently unrolled, and spread with the chestnut filling first, then the mocha filling.

Re-roll the cake as gently and firmly as you can. The filling may squish out the ends a bit, which offers an ideal tasting opportunity. Wrap with the sugared parchment.

Step 5: Wrap cake roll in plastic wrap very firmly, like a sausage. Chill overnight. (Oops, you did plan ahead, right?)

Step 6: Once the cake is in the fridge, or even a couple of days before, make meringue mushrooms.

I foolishly made an Italian meringue recipe, which entailed cooking the meringue over a very low flame. I did it on my woodstove, which just resulted in me getting cooked before the egg whites. Plain old French meringue will do just fine.

4 egg whites
pinch of salt
1 cup sugar

Beat egg whites with salt until they begin to hold soft peaks. Gradually add sugar while continuing to beat until white are very stiff. Transfer to a pastry bag with a 1/2' round tip, or put in a plastic bag with one corner cut off - (I used the makeshift plastic bag method, which made kind of funky looking mushrooms, but perhaps more natural looking.) Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper and onto it pipe half the meringue into 1" diameter round buttons (for the tops), and the other half into 1 - 1 1/2" high cones (for the stems). Bake in a pre-heated 150 F. oven for 1 - 2 hours, until meringue is dry but still perfectly white.

When cool, assemble by carving a small divot in the bottom of a cap, and inserting the pointy cone stem. you may use a little left over butter cream or royal icing for "glue". Store mushrooms in an airtight container until you are ready to assemble the log.

Step 7: Next, make a simple chocolate ganache.

1 kilo good chocolate ( I used Lindt dark chocolate wafers)
1 litre whipping cream
(I know, I just went metric on you, but 2 pounds and 4 cups will come close so don't fret)

Melt the chocolate over a low flame. Remove from stove and immediately begin whisking in cream. Pour cream in a gradual stream until it is all incorporated and ganache is thick and glossy. It will be quite liquid but will continue to thicken as it cools.

Okay!!! Now put it all together.

Step 8: Remove wrap from the cake and cut one end off at an angle. This chunk can be artfully arranged either on top or jutting out from the side of the log. Use a bit of leftover butter cream to attach. See pictures. Place cake on a wire rack, with a cookie sheet underneath to catch drips. Carefully pour ganache over the cake. Sometimes the ends are left un-iced so you can see the spiral of the roll, but I was too messy and had to cover the whole log. I did two thin coats, easier to control than one thick coat.

With the help of another set of hands and a couple of egg flippers or spatulas, carefully lift the log and transfer to a serving platter. Touch up any smears in the ganache, and then create bark like texture with either a palette knife (as I did in the top photo), or a fork (as Tala did below.)

Dust a bit of cocoa powder on your meringue mushrooms for a natural effect, then place them around the log in a forest-y manner. From here on in you can get very creative - try googling images of "buche de noel" for some very galoptious examples. I preferred to keep it simple with a few sprigs of holly and daphne. I forgot to lightly sift a bit of icing sugar over the top to simulate snow, but I don't think anyone noticed.

A cake will serve 12-15 people, who will be utterly amazed and delighted with your baking artistry!

* I should mention that you do not, I repeat, DO NOT, make your ganache ahead of time and then put it in the fridge. The change of temperature will turn it to fudge, and it will be grainy and impossible to pour. Leftover ganache can, however, be refrigerated, perhaps poured into a pan and later cut into squares and rolled in good powdered cocoa for truffles!!

Her Creativity Knows No Bounds

2011-12-09T08:46:00.000-08:00

(Photo by Benny Paulino, www.paulinophotography.com)

My friend Gretchen Elsner has done it again. I have written about her incredibly inventive re-working of old cloth before, but her latest collection is astonishing.

Much of the fabric she has used came from vintage wool kimonos that were sent to me by my friend Jean-Pierre in Japan, and that I forwarded to Gretchen in Athens, Georgia. A lot of mailing around but finally these fabrics are singing.

Gretchen has also been busy building her own home on wheels: a custom travel trailer, as well as actively participating in democracy via social and environmental justice movements. She's a dynamo!

Burgoyne Bay Walk

2011-11-28T13:22:00.001-08:00

Even on a grey, cloudy day, a walk around Burgoyne Bay Provincial Park is always beautiful. Today, the soft light made the old farm buildings moody and mysterious.

Apparently the buildings are to be restored someday. I quite like them as they are.

The bay itself is home to a number of people who live on their boats or floathouses.

There is even a "float trailer"!

The rosehips and chokecherries are bright against the lichens.

Leaves of the Garry Oak, a gnarly, moss covered tree native to a tiny area of southern vancouver Island, and apparently, Salt Spring.

It's a fertile place. This abundant tangle of blackberry, dewberry, moss and fern is growing on a massive granite boulder. Ten years ago, the Burgoyne Bay area was about to be logged and developed, and it took a sustained fight from islanders to have it protected and turned into a park. We are so fortunate that they won their battle!

Shades of Grey

2011-11-28T12:45:00.001-08:00

Back in September, I bought three freshly-shorn dark grey fleeces from Ruckle Farm, down on the south end of the island. They were stored in a sack in one of my closets, and soon became a favourite napping spot for Angus the cat. I always knew when he had been in there, 'cause he smelled like a little sheep. I also knew if I left them for too long, they would become just another layer in the archeological dig that is my stash, so I needed to at least wash them.

Not the most compelling subject matter, I have to admit. And there are mountains of the stuff! Every surface in the house will soon be covered with grey fluff.

I spun a sample skein of yarn: bulky, textured, pretty. There will be a mountain of that, too. Not the best colour to work with during the winter - I will have to spike it now and then with something bright.

Textiles: The Whole Story

2011-11-26T08:08:00.000-08:00

Now, THIS is a book! Author Beverly Gordon takes a holistic approach to the story of cloth that delves deep into the spiritual, social and cultural meaning and significance of textiles. She has a PhD in textile history, and is on faculty at University of Wisconsin/Madison, but her intellectual rigour is matched by her lifelong passion for cloth, gained through hands on experience.

She credits Elizabeth Barbour's Women's Work: The First 10,000 Years and Annette Weiener and Jane Schneider's Cloth and Human Experience as laying the ground work for her own book. I often refer to those earlier volumes, and I expect the Textiles: The Whole Story will soon gain the same well-thumbed status.

Chapter titles are evocative: "The Very Fabric of Existence: Textiles in human consciousness"; "Living on the Earth: Textiles and human survival"; "Textiles and the Spirit: The sacred, spiritual and healing significance of cloth." Gordon's writing is juicy and rich - not painfully academic. I imagine she is a wonderful teacher. How many would compare Maslow's hierarchy of needs to the system of chakras, in terms of fabric, and have it make sense?

Like all Thames and Hudson books, this one is beautifully designed and printed, with a wealth of colour photographs. Examples are run the gamut from very early historial pieces to contemporary works, and most are new to me - (much as I appreciate the Pasryk carpet or the Bayeaux Tapestry, I don't really need to see another picture of them.) There are copious notes, and a huge bibliography, which are like catnip to my research nerd self.

I just received Textiles:The Whole Story as an early Christmas present, and I look forward to spending this rainy weekend snuggled in bed with it and a cup of tea. Heaven!

It's expensive ($69 Canadian) but so, so worth it.

Bad Blogger

2011-11-25T14:49:00.000-08:00

That's me. I've been gone for so long I'm even beginning to question whether or not I have anything further to say. But, in lieu any new work of my own - all I've been doing is carding mountains of local fleece - I thought I might offer a book review.

Push Stitchery is a new offering from Lark, "curated" by Jamie Chalmers of Mr. X Stitch fame. It is beautifully printed and bound, and features 30 artists who "explore the boundaries of stitched art." I was familiar with many of the artists already, but put down cash for the book because of the few from outside of the USA and UK who were new to me.

I settled down for a nice couple of hours in front of the woodstove, leafing through the pages. It's totally my kind of thing, but I must confess to some disappointment. First of all, I found the range of work quite uneven, with some artists displaying great technical mastery and conceptual innovation, while others appeared to lack professional polish. Chalmers doesn't discuss his "curatorial" concept, other than mentioning the pushing of boundaries. The artists give their own blurbs, apparently in answer to a few stock questions. I would have much preferred a cogent discussion of why the artists were chosen, and in depth comment on some of the trends that are evident (the number of photographers and printmakers that add stitch to their images, the overuse of shocking images to transgress the cliche of female domesticity.)

I was very pleased to be introduced to the work of Lithuanian artist Severija Inciruskate-Kriauneviciene, who cross stitches on drilled metal buckets, shovels and car doors. As well, the rich, earthy and monumental work of Britain's Clyde Olliver, who combines stitch and slate, was an exciting discovery for me. Canada's Anna Torma and The Netherlands' Tilleke Schwartz are favourites of mine, and it was great to see new works of theirs included. The meticulous and refined graphic works of Peter Crawley of the UK, stitching on paper, were a standout for me too.

Although all of the artists included here can be found online, I like books. I can see taking Push Stitchery down from the shelf now and then for inspiration, and it's nice to have examples to show people who aren't familiar with current trends in embroidery and quilting. But I would recommend getting your library to order it and have a look before investing your own money in it.

Something Amazing: Updated

2011-11-16T08:54:00.000-08:00

I'm totally thrown off my blogging game by the move, recent gall bladder surgery, etc,etc. I even have a couple of posts in the can that I haven't published yet, 'cause I haven't got them right. But I just saw this amazing video that I must share with you. It totally blows my paltry excuses for not accomplishing what I would like to. It just went up on Youtube - the filmmakers will be remaining anonymous until the end of the week, when everyone will know about it, but here's a sneak preview. Here's the link:
Renaissance Man
It doesn't feature any textiles, but has everything to do with intention and possibility.

* Here's the update! The filmmaker, Kai Nagata, has now gone public with the film. Check it out here: Kai's blog. YOu might remember Kai from this past summer, when he made a splash quitting his high profile news reporter job. He's just 24 years old, and I think he made the right move.

Mystery Monday

2011-10-31T15:08:00.000-07:00

I picked up this largish cloth at the thrift store. It measure about 20" wide by 80" long, and appears to be a loom controlled inlay pattern. What is interesting about it is that while the pattern repeats, the colours don't.

The silk inlay (discontinous supplementary weft)threads are primarily white, but also include a dark blue, light blue and light brown. The red background appears to be fine handwoven cotton. When I first saw it I thought it might be Greek, but after looking through all my books on middle Eastern textiles I am more confused than ever. I can see similarities to Kazak, Caucasus and even Moroccan textiles. But I could be completely out in left field, and the piece might be from Scandinavia.

Might any of my learned readers be able to identity the origin of this mysterious cloth?

Beauty in Frugality

2011-10-29T13:57:00.001-07:00

I've just spent the last couple of hours immersed in a glossy high-end magazine from Japan: Kateigaho International Edition. In refreshing contrast to the glossy high-end brochure I had trouble with in the last post, this issue of KIE delves deeply into the aesthetic of frugality and speaks eloquently about the beauty of reuse and repair and how connected these concepts are to Japanese culture. No fashionable flash in the pan, the Japanese appreciation of wabi sabi, mingei (folk art) and mottainai (respect for all things, using them so nothing is lost or wasted in the course of an object's existence) flows from spiritual belief imbued in daily life.

There is a great array of articles on sakiori, the art of weaving with rags; hishizashi, a form of counted thread embroidery; boro cloth; patchwork; and wood, paper and ceramic crafts.

Shimatsu, a Kyoto dialect word for frugality, is written with the characters for "beginning" and "end", indicating an attitude of careful consideration from start to finish.

This handbag is made from the persimmon cured cloth used to strain the lees in sake-making. The fabric becomes like leather over its years of use.

Worn out socks and t-shirts are stitched with sashiko and used as dustrags. Think of how the relationship with an object you are dusting would change if the chore was carried out with a hand stitched cloth. It might transform from drudgery into an act of devotion.

Kintsugi is the art of repairing broken ceramics with lacquer and gold dust. The text includes a quote from gallery owner Kazuya Kuroda:

One suspects that this mending of broken vessels, then using and loving them, speaks to a certain sense of beauty that is peculiar to Japan.

None of this comes cheap, of course. People at the lower end of the income scale, ironically, can't afford rag rugs and mended pottery. But somehow, appreciation of the aesthetic of frugality seems authentic to Japanese culture whereas it seems a world away from the faux pauvre Eurostyle of Roche-Bobois.

KIE is often available at news stands and magazine shops that carry international publications. If you can find a copy of this edition (#28), it is well worth the investment. Also featured are articles on Jeffrey Montgomery's incredible (and well-used) collection of mingei, organic farming in Japan, and some yummy recipes.
(Thanks to my dear friend Jean-Pierre for sending me my copy.)

I'm Just Looking, Thanks...

2011-10-23T12:12:00.000-07:00

You know yarn bombing is really dead when it shows up as background decor in a glossy ad campaign by luxe furniture dealer Roche-Bobois. A better version of this image (and others) can be seen here. Thanks to my weekend paper for including the slick 16-page insert for Roche-Bobois's "Exceptional, once-a-year sale."

I do love the handwoven looking carpets strewn about the showroom. I tried to find out where they came from but had no luck. Whilst Googling the various names credited on the back of the brochure, I did come across a couple of interesting artists/designers. Aurelie Mathigot works in crochet, creating whimsical sculptural forms that relate to the natural world. (I suspect the Roche-Bobois "yarn bombings" are hers.) Wool and the Gang provided the oversized yarn balls that function as sculptural objects in the layout. And Piet Hein Eek's cabinet blows me away. Those handwoven rugs would go perfectly with his scrap wood wallpaper.

When you're selling furniture that retails for thousands of dollars, it is awfully disingenuous to show it off in a nouveau scruffy, DIY-esque setting. But then the furniture is all sleek modernism. I guess co-opting the handmade aesthetic to give the cool modular couches some warm fuzzy vibes is hardly a leap. Maybe the handmade decor is intended to make the furniture look more affordable. Who knows what goes on in the minds of art directors?

But it does make me wonder when we'll be seeing handknit lampshades made by children in third world sweatshops showing up at box stores like Bed, Bath and Beyond. Is there anything that's not grist for the mill of consumption?

Enchanted Apples

2011-10-20T13:10:00.000-07:00

I had been trying to gather up my energy to face sorting through all my pictures of the last month, and turn them into a coherent blog posting. To my amazement, sometime in the last few weeks - I can't even remember doing this - I had dumped a bunch of pictures from the apple festival into a posting form, and there they were sitting patiently, waiting for me to add a few words. My mood lifted, no longer quite so weighed down by the task of blogging in the midst of unpacked boxes and untidy gardens.

Above, an apple from Harry Burton's orchard, visited during the Salt Spring Apple Festival a few weeks ago. Harry is quite apple-obsessed, growing over two hundred varieties of crisp, juicy fruit on his land. Do visit his website for oodles of fascinating information.

Harry takes organic growing methods one step further with a approach of benevolent neglect. Above is one of the tools he uses to simply push the weeds over when they threaten to smother the trees. (Harry's description of "the Pusher" is interesting reading.) Harry believes that blackberry brambles, the bane of most Pacific Northwest gardeners, actually enrich the soil and provide a living mulch, shading the ground and gathering moisture. While he certainly seems successful in this method, the orchard is definitely not of the pruned, orderly variety.

Everything on the property seems to have an educational sign.

The tree nursery is fenced and gated.

There was little in the way of fancy irrigation systems. Instead, Harry collects rainwater in food grade barrels, and simply hand waters the trees using buckets.

Mason bees are among the pollinators Harry encourages to make their home in the orchard.
Wasps were everywhere, feasting on overripe and damaged fruit.

The chickens normally can roam freely, but were penned in for the day because of the crowds of people (roaming freely!)

The apple tasting tables were a popular feature. Every variety had an in-depth description to go with it. I learned that my favourites were mainly of the Orange Pippin family, although Gravensteins are a close second.

View From the Deck

2011-10-13T15:50:00.000-07:00

Don't let the recent lack of postings lead you to think I have dropped off the planet. The move has been completed with no major incidents, and although my sewing room looks a lot more like a storage room, I am getting unpacked and settled. Yesterday there was a lot of rain, then the sun came out briefly and shone on the farm below.

Yeah, I know -- I can't complain!

Autumn Bouquet

2011-10-04T09:45:00.000-07:00

The Salt Spring Apple Festival was this past weekend. I have oodles of photos for the next post, but it wasn't just apples that enchanted me at Harry Burton's apple orchard. Harry also grows some seductively fragrant and beautiful flowers.

Enjoy, my patient readers. I'll be back with more as soon as I finish moving house.

You Can Never Have Too Much Knitting for Good

2011-09-20T10:59:00.000-07:00

The other knitting group I am involved with also knits for charity, as well as for fun. They are affiliated with a Dorcas group that knits hats, scarves, sweaters and other warm things for low income people in the Diocese of Caledonia in Northern British Columbia. One nice aspect of the group is that it doesn't feel arouse feelings of fibre lust or pattern envy. When knitting for others, with yarn that has been donated, personal style and expression is mostly taken out of the equation. There is instead an atmosphere of sharing and generousity.

I find it interesting, although hardly surprising, that both knitting groups are made up of middle-aged and older women. They say they like to keep their hands busy while watching TV or waiting in the doctor's office. This is one of the reasons I have for knitting too, and I see it as a practise that is more process than product oriented. While I welcome the abundance of beautiful yarns and exciting patterns available these days, I am also glad to see that there is still lots of knitting going on that may not be glamorous or cutting edge, but simply comes from the heart.

Our next group project is the classic Elizabeth Zimmerman's Baby Surprise Jacket. Above image is from the Schoolhouse Press site.

A couple of great books about charitable knitting are Betsy Greer's Knitting for Good and Betty Christiansen's Knitting for Peace. Both books have patterns and stories to inspire you.

For more on knitting groups, here is Sherri Lynn Wood's lovely post about the group in her neighbourhood.

Wet

2011-09-20T10:53:00.001-07:00

It rained yesterday, for the first time in over a month.

Knitting for Good

2011-09-20T10:30:00.000-07:00

One of the knitting groups I have joined knits bandages. You read that right - bandages. I thought hand knitted bandages went out with World War II, but apparently there still exists a need.

Our groups knits for the D.O.V.E. Fund Bandages Brigade, a charitable organization that helps people with leprosy in Vietnam. And again, you read that right. Leprosy. I thought the disease had been eradicated, but no - although it is now treatable, it is still rampant in third world countries.

The bandages are 3 to 4 inches wide and 48 inches long, and preferably knit from #10 crochet cotton. Yes, that's a lot of very unexciting garter stitch. Because they can be sterilized for reuse, and breathe better, they are preferable to gauze commercial bandages. And since lepers wear these bandages on their stumps as well as on sores, the bandages act like shoes as they move about on their stumps. Gauze would wear out too fast.

It certainly puts things into perspective. Last night, I effortlessly knit about 18 inches while watching the very funny movie "The Trip", in the comfortable luxury of my home. I think that cute sweater from the latest Knitty can wait.

In Which Rocks Speak and Frogs Glisten

2011-09-05T16:31:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking. For those of you who have been visiting here for a while, you know now is the time to roll your eyes and fetch a cup of tea (or possibly something stronger) to fortify yourself for where the randomness of my alleged thoughts might take us.

About three years ago I posted about a comma shaped rock I found on the road. I took it to be a sign from the universe that it was time for a pause, to take a breath. And I very much needed to do that. I don't know if I really feel it's time to get moving again, but yesterday I found another rock, a perfect egg shape. It says to me, "Everything is contained within." And, although I do recognise that tuning into the whispers of rocks might seem a little strange, I'm listening.

And, as it happens, I am moving, from this small wild island to another, bigger and less wild. In spite of having moved at least 40 times since I was a teenager, this particular move feels very hard to make. There is a community here that I really love, where I feel I have a place. It's not easy living here, remote, off-grid, sparsely populated. The shared experience, the pride of being able to get through a dark winter, of surviving a ferry ride in gale conditions, of generating your own power, of eating, dancing and making music together - has created a very special community. My friend Sophia says it's the best place to have a happy second childhood that she can think of. And she's right.

In a way, moving here was like taking a vow of poverty. I live on a very small income. But since there are no stores (except the Free Store), no fashion scene, and perhaps most importantly, no place to dump stuff when you don't want it anymore (except the Free Store), the cycle of consumerism is possible to step away from. I feel like I have had a very rich, full life here - I have shared spectacular pot luck dinners, made dear friends, and walked daily on some of the world's most glorious shorelines.

There have been so many awe-some moments - just the other day I was picking apples, and as I pulled one perfect red fruit from the tree I saw there was a tiny green tree frog perched on it. I held the apple close to a leaf so the little fellow could hop back to safety, and as he reached his tiny hand up, it was illuminated against the sun shining through the branches, and I felt so at peace and in love with the world.

Okay, maybe it is time to get back into the "real" world, and see if I can sustain some of what I have learned here. I'm going to help the chef write a cookbook, and almost without lifting a finger I have become involved in two knitting groups on Salt Spring - both of which knit for admirable charitable causes. I'm planning to join the Spinners and Weavers Guild and learn more about farming and who knows what else. I think that what is contained within is about to burst forth.

As always, it should be interesting.

Figgy Goodness

2011-09-01T15:52:00.001-07:00

I returned home to find the figs had ripened in all their sweet, luscious, exotic splendour. I picked six dozen and made jam. Now I can hardly wait for winter breakfasts. Mmmnnnn, rich summery figginess on warm buttered toast, mmmnnnnnnn.

Zodiac Garland - Bigger and Brighter!

2011-09-01T15:42:00.000-07:00

Thank you Drucilla for asking me to repost the zodiac garland as individual images. Much better now.

Salt Spring Seeds Garden Tour

2011-09-01T14:07:00.000-07:00

I recently had the pleasure of visiting Dan Jason, seed saving hero and proprietor of Salt Spring Seeds on Salt Spring Island. His farm, a seed sanctuary dedicated to preserving the diversity of our heritage seed resources, looks out over an open valley.

I started off bedazzled by the plump cabbages, but quickly realized that this garden was all about the seeds. Most gardeners harvest before their produce reaches this stage and never get to witness the miraculous process of growth through the whole cycle.

I had no idea that chickpea plants look like this. Their dainty pods yield only one or two peas - next time I blithely measure out a cup of dried chickpeas I will be able to picture how long a row of plants was required for my meal.

Each row is marked with a handwritten sign. Have you ever heard of this type of marigold?

The farm is deceptively small - Dan does have a few other people growing for him but when I consider the rich diversity of plant genetics this land supports my perspective changes from "It's smaller than I thought it would be." to "Wow, it's massive."

Dan graciously provides chairs for us to contemplate the expansive world a single seed can contain.

I think this is barley. (Ooops, correction, it's oats!) Dan has demonstrated that many varieties of grains can be successfully grown in the Pacific Northwest.

Quinoa, in particular, would make a spectacular addition to the home garden. The colours are gorgeous, and the seeds are abundant.

Of course, you won't have seed without pollinators. Honeybees work a leek blossom...

... and a bumblebee is busy on an echinacea flowwer.

Dan grows dahlias as cut flowers for his table, but the veggies, heavily mulched with straw, are never far away.

The meditation bench is perched on the slope, looking out to the valley. Dan told me that a Tibetan rinpoche who recently visited sat on the bench and blessed the garden.

It is indeed a place that resonates with peace, beauty and grace.

Zodiac Garland

2011-08-26T13:31:00.000-07:00

Here's my latest little project. It was quick and fun - great for the last few days of summer.

I found a set of 12 squares of cloth at the thrift store, beautifully hand embroidered with a delightful series of astrological signs. They probably date from the 1970's, and needed a bit of cleaning to remove some rust stains.

I thought of piecing them into a quilt or wall hanging, but I couldn't arrange them so that the background colours were to my liking. So I went off on a completely different tangent, and added piping and backing to each one, then stuffed them to create 12 little pillows (about 7"x9").

I then sewed snap fasteners to the upper corners of each pillow, and the mate to each fastener on a length of tea-dyed twill tape. Snap them on and voila!

Summer Patchwork

2011-08-26T12:55:00.000-07:00

I find myself with time on my hands but without most of my sewing tools, particularly my rotary cutter and mat. But I still want to work on a linen quilt top (cloth gleaned from thrift store shirts.) So I have taken a cue from Sherry Lynn Wood at Daintytime, and am working spontaneously, intuitively and without a straight edge!

I don't even have a steam iron with me, so I have just been dampening the finished squares and hanging them on the line. Seems to work.

Wish You Were Here

2011-08-17T16:01:00.000-07:00

Yikes! I haven't done a posting for quite a while. I could offer all the usual excuses of summer, but there was a special event on top of everything else. It was a gala dinner to raise funds to build a community health centre. It took place in the Teapot House (check out the chimney), a landmark heritage building that is rarely used.

Chef Bruce Wood donated his time and talent to create a sumptuous six-course meal prepared with island raised ingredients.

The tables were set beautifully. Janine brought in linens, candlesticks, artwork and mirrors from her own home to create an elegant atmosphere.

Considering we are an isolated, rural island I think we rose to the occasion brilliantly.

Volunteer staff helped the chef create beautiful plates. Here is the seafood appetizer, with smoked honey mussels, cured salmon, marinated tuna, crab meat, and prawns spilling out of an oyster shell.

Salads of fresh greens and blossoms.

Oops, we're moving so fast things are getting blurry! Here's the roast lamb on a bed of oven roasted veggies and baby potatoes, dressed with tzatsiki and a red huckleberry relish.

Desserts from our talented island bakers.

The cheese plates that rounded out the evening.

After the dinner an auction was held that raised over $15,000. Incredible!

Abundance

2011-08-01T20:11:00.000-07:00

I returned to my garden after a week away and was very happy to find my greenhouse full of ripening vegetables. Above are two Japanese peppers.

This was my first big harvest of the season. I have been picking cherry tomatoes since July 8th - the earliest I have ever had.

I made a sauce using a giant zucchini I found lurking under a leaf.

I went out after dinner and for dessert, stuffed my cheeks with the last of the black currants and the first of the blackberries. Bliss.

The Faint Praise Department

2011-07-29T14:40:00.000-07:00

We've all experienced it. The uncomfortable smiles, the "Umm, interesting"s, the "Wow, that must have taken a lot of work"s. I tend to give the hapless would-be critic a generous leeway, knowing that most people don't have the vocabulary to respond to a piece of art, and are all too aware of their inadequacy. They mean well, and that's enough.

I have had a few notable backhanded compliments in my, ahem, career. One of my favourites came when the mother of a young intern said to me, after inspecting the premises of the newspaper office where we worked, "You know, you put out a pretty good little paper. It's almost professional." I choked on my coffee - after eight years in the field, at much more prestigious publications, I'd better damn well be professional. I still say, when I know I've done something really well, "It's almost professional."

I once had an artist friend who thought he had it figured out. His standard, one word fits all, response to art he didn't like was "Congratulations." Sincere enough to convey respect that the person he was addressing had managed to get a show, mealy-mouthed enough to convey no opinion. A neat dodge.

Yesterday I received a new contender in the faint praise department. A man whose father is a nationally recognised poet, step-mother a novelist, and a creative professional himself (so he should have known better) said, upon seeing the hippy-dippy quilt: "Wow, that would look great in my kid's room." Unable to control himself, he followed that zinger up with: "You should sell those."

Urghhh. I don't expect expert critical analysis, I don't require unconditional praise, I don't even really need to know if you like it or not. Positive comments are lovely when they come, but the most precious of all are the comments that reflect a moment of attention, maybe even a moment of connection or communication. To be understood is the most meaningful gift an artist can be given.

What about you? I would love to hear your favourite responses to your art. What words have brought tears to your eyes (of laughter, amazement, frustration or pride)? Does it matter to you what people say?

They Don't Call It "La La Land" For Nothing

2011-07-23T11:59:00.000-07:00

The tragedy in Norway has prompted the usual calls for increased security and vigilance. Worldround, we have all dealt with how that (dubiously justified) paranoia has impacted on our personal lives and privacy.

I suggest a different approach. Instead of suspicion, how about kindness? Get to know your neighbours. Build community, not walls. Greet the stranger at the door with a plate, not a gun.

I know, it sounds airy-fairy. But I have had the benefit of living in such a world for the last three years. My community is small, so we all know each other. If someone needs help, it's there. In the rare occasion where there has been a transgression against person or property, the person responsible is told to leave and not come back. We have no police here, and no apparent need for them either.

Yes, I know that it's much harder to do these things in a city. But even the biggest city is just a collection of smaller communities.

I do believe there is evil in the world. Bad things do happen. But most people are essentially good, regardless of their race, culture or political persuasion. I would love to hear our media and leaders calling for open hearts and helping hands, rather than locked doors and security cameras. Put money into community services and health care instead of weapons...

You might think I'm being naive, but believe me, I started out as one of the most cynical, defensive people you could meet. I have not led a sheltered life, although I do recognize how lucky I was to be born in a peaceful, prosperous country. Living here, on the fringes of the world, amongst some of the best (and quirkiest) people I have known, is a culmination of a long journey of patience and acceptance from all sides.

Shifu or Not Shifu?

2011-07-19T11:34:00.000-07:00

As promised, pictures of a vintage obi woven with what I was told was shifu. But a closer examination of the tails on the edge tells a somewhat different story. It is paper but hardly twisted. What is really interesting is how it is plied with silk, both a rich orange colour, and a light cream. The silk sits almost at a 90 degree angle to the paper, which results in a subtle but intriguing effect when woven.

This had me confused initially. The cross-wise coloured ply on the weft makes it look like part of the warp at first glance. But if the coloured thread was the warp, how could the solid stripes be solid?

Indeed, the warp is the same light cream as the light weft. And the orange stripes aren't really solid, but tweedy.

Very clever. What I first took as simply a piece of rough weaving is much more sophisticated than I thought. And until I had spun shifu myself, I probably would never have caught on. There's the value of hands on experience in a nutshell.

I also had a closer look at a couple of skeins of yarn that my friend Jean-Pierre sent me from Japan. They have the dry crunchiness of paper, but J.-P. tells me that they are silk.

A burn test confirmed the fibre as silk. Looking more closely at the structure of the yarn, though, showed no individual filaments of fibre. Instead, it seemed to be mushed together like felt. Perhaps it was made from silk paper?

I'll have to get out my magnifying glass and look for more clues. I love a textile mystery!

Shifu! Shifu! Shifu!

2011-07-18T15:13:00.000-07:00

I have long been intrigued by shifu, the Japanese paper thread. It seems to be all the rage right now - for a look at what's possible see Heather Sauer's experiments (including a miniature knitted lace dress) and Lizz Aston's incredibly smooth, fine yarns. Velma Bolyard has posted about an awesome looking class on shifu she taught last month. There was an article in the Spring 2011 Spin Off about spinning pattern tissue paper that made it seem quite possible. But it was the weaving of Jean Betts that finally pushed me over the edge into the realm of "must try".

So, having (typically) misplaced the Spin Off article, I barged ahead, working with my vague recollections. I tried cutting strips from the folded pattern tissue of a free store find - first with an X-Acto and ruler (PITA) and then with a rotary cutter (much better).

I didn't dampen them, as the current humidity is so high that moss could grow indoors. Spinning was surprisingly pleasant and easy - I used my lowest ratio whorl, treadled slowly, and used a wee bit of spit for joins. My strips were quite coarse - about 1/4" - but not bad for my first attempt.

I have an obi woven with shifu weft that I will dig up to show you next post.

Cat's Cradle

2011-07-17T10:57:00.000-07:00

I set up my old knitting machine, which of course Angus immediately had to check out.

I quickly remembered why cats and knitting machines do not go together.

"Back to the Garden" is Done

2011-07-15T14:37:00.000-07:00

From this...

...to this.

What began as a quick sketch several years ago generated an idea for a quilt last fall, changed as it grew, and is finally complete.

The four winds blow...

...the sun shines through the clouds...

...and the waves sparkle.

I put the geographical co-ordinates of the island in the space after the Alden Nowlan quotation. The quote starts in the lower left: "For those who belong nowhere," and continues across the top "and for those who belong", down the right side "to one place too much to belong", finishing upside down "anywhere else." I know it's a bit of a puzzle to figure it out, but I think words in a piece can be so dominant that I am always trying to soften or blur them.

I am happy with the way the multi-coloured thread of the blanket stitch blends and integrates the cloth letters.

I added the second part of the Joni Mitchell verse to the ground beneath the rainbow. I was actually thinking of her voice singing. "We are stardust, we are golden" is all light and sparkly, while "and we've got to get ourselves back to the garden" is more earthy and deep. The threads I chose echo that contrast.

Those of you who are regulars will be familiar with the stages that this quilt took. If you are new here, the previous posts are under the quilting tag.

This quilts incorporates a few firsts for me:
1. First completely hand-stitched quilt.
2. First time painting with dyes.
3. First time using metallic thread and beads (conservatively, yes, but they are there.
4. First time using stumpwork techniques (on the sheep.)

My New Hero

2011-07-13T08:46:00.000-07:00

Kai Nagata has nothing to do with textiles. But he has everything to do with integrity, vision, and action. I encourage you to take the time (allow a good hour) to read both postings on his blog Freedom 24, and to delve as well into the comments.

Kai, a 24-year-old journalist who just quit his plum job in Canadian media, has sparked a remarkable discussion that resonates far beyond his own personal circumstances. The response he has received goes far beyond side-taking, no matter how much the trolls are trying to make it about politics. The really inspiring effect of his posting is how his his words and actions have helped so many people re-discover hope within themselves - and from the overall content of the comments, his message has sparked the hearts of thousands of intelligent, caring people who want to see change happen.

How that change might happen is up in the air. But I think I can truly say that I have not encountered such a passionate, optimistic outpouring of voices since, well, maybe ever. That it happened on a lazy summer weekend, completely via the Internet and alternative media is astonishing. It heartens me to hear so many young people who are articulate and committed to making the world a better place. It is, after all, this bleeding piece of earth that they will have to contend with once we're done.

"We'll Be Open at Eleven"

2011-07-12T20:04:00.000-07:00

I had a request to make a doorway curtain for a restaurant. It has an open kitchen, so in the summer the staff opens the front door early just to keep the place from getting too hot while they are baking and prepping for the day. But they are getting tired of people ignoring the "Closed" sign and walking in, asking to be served.

Rather than getting nasty, sometimes all that is needed is a gentle physical or visual barrier to make people think twice. I hope this curtain will serve the purpose. Based on something I saw in Marie Claire Idees several years ago, this noren-style curtain is pieced together from cheery tea towels and a vintage embroidered tablecloth. The restaurant's logo appliqued to a doily finishes off the custom look.

(Hope to have a better picture in situ soon.)

Men and More of Their Pants

2011-07-08T08:05:00.001-07:00

Last year, I made what, surprisingly, became one of my most popular blog postings of all time. Maybe it was the provocative title, Men and Their Pants that led hapless Google searchers to me.

John, the owner of the much mended pair featured in that posting, recently brought another pair to be mended. These ones have got to be the grand champion of mended pants. They weight almost as much as three new pairs, so many patches and stitching have gone into them over the years.

Perhaps Calvin Klein would like to purchase them for his museum?

Sorry, Cal, John says he wants to be buried in these pants.

Afloat

2011-07-08T07:41:00.001-07:00

I've been crossing the water a lot these days.

On board the Bowen Queen, traversing Active Pass between Tsawwassen and Long Harbour, Salt Spring Island.

She's a bit of a shabby vessel.

I was glad that we didn't need to use the escape hatch.

The next day I crossed from French Creek to False Bay with Carson, on his fossil-fuel-free sail transportation service, Sailing the Salish Sea. What a lovely, if leisurely, way to travel.

Carson is my favourite surrogate nephew, and a mighty fine sailor.

Our destination off in the distance.

Gracie loved the ride.

Well, I guess sailing does have quite a connection with textiles, for those of you who are getting frustrated with my inability to stay on the alleged topic of this blog.

And how many ferry services offer the delightful feature of a naked captain and first mate? Granted, I haven't come across too many ferry workers that I would want to see naked, but then federal regulations probably prohibit them from stripping down and jumping in for a swim enroute anyway.

Back to the Fibreshed

2011-07-06T10:08:00.000-07:00

There is a lovely article by Rebecca Burgess over at Fibershed. Beautiful pictures and the story of the alpacas of Renaissance Ridge in Northern California.

It reminded me of a book that I finally bought: Working with Wool by Sylvia Olsen. Subtitled "A Coast Salish Legacy and the Cowichan Sweater", it genuinely breaks some new ground in the documentation of the most distinctive garment from my own region. I had hesitated when it first came out, as I already own the books by Priscilla Gibson-Roberts and Marg Meikle, thinking "Who needs another book, however interesting and well-intentioned, by a person from outside that culture?" Olsen, however, married into the Coast Salish nation at nineteen, and lived and worked with the knitters of Cowichan sweaters for thirty years. She avoids most of the romanticizing that Europeans often bring to the subject, and allows the voices of the Coast Salish knitters to tell their own stories.

There are no patterns here, which pleases me. I know I'm being knee-jerk politically correct here, but really, if it's not knit by a Coast Salish person, then it's not a real Cowichan sweater. After many years of fighting the marketers of inferior knock-offs, the Coast Salish have won the legal right to the exclusive use of the label "Cowichan". How sensitive they are to this issue arose a couple of years ago in connection to the sweaters marketed by the organizers of the 2010 Winter Olympics. If you want to make your own version, the Gibson-Roberts book gives all the details, but why not just save up and support the knitters by buying an authentic one? But maybe I am just being pedantic.

Olsen recently won the Lieutenant-Governor’s Medal for Historical Writing. The media release says:

Blending her own experiences working with knitters and sweaters from the late ‘70s to the early ‘90s, her desire to learn as much as possible about how government and business intersected with knitters and purchasers, the stories of the knitters themselves, and more than a hundred archival photographs, Olsen has woven a fascinating narrative, a cross cultural story that involves all British Columbians, First Nations, settlers, governments, and churches. “We have all been touched by, or involved with the sweaters in one way or another,” she says.

Jean at One Small Stitch has an interesting post on Peruvian mummy dolls, which is very relevant to this discussion. Sometimes it does take a caring, educated person from another culture to ensure that traditional ethnic techniques are preserved.

Canada Day on the Rocks

2011-07-01T13:25:00.000-07:00

Today is Canada's birthday. In spite of our prime minister's jingoistic attempts at rousing national ardour, most Canadians prefer to take it easy and spend time relaxing outdoors. The royal visit has added a bit of glamour to the day for those back east, but here on the west coast it's just another day on the beach.

This beach is on top of a midden over 1200 years old. (In comparison, Canada is just 144.) The shells, mostly clam, scallop, and mussel, have been crushed by the waves into a fine sand.

The rocky shoreline of this particular beach shows how dramatically the earth heaved in the island's creation. Apparently the rock dates from the Cretaceous period of about 3 million years ago.

Barnacles covered the rocks - most were what I take to be a normal size, about 5 to 10 millimetres across, but these ones were huge.

These are a more usual size. I like the lacy clusters they form on shells.

A heron fishing at low tide caught Gracie's attention.

Ah well, she wouldn't be a dog if she didn't try.

A Different Path

2011-06-29T11:42:00.000-07:00

Beach walks may still be my favourite, but the other day Gracie and I went for a walk around Redwing Farm, on Salt Spring Island. The gentle rolling contours of the land were a delight to my eye.

Gracie found racing through the daisies rather delightful herself.

Next to fences, gates are a most important feature of the farm landscape...

...although frustrating for small doggies who just want to be on the other side.

The path leads down to a lake.

The cool, gray day meant no swimmers or lounging on the dock.

The waterlilies were beautiful though.

On the way back up the hill we spied an old house through the overgrown vines.

Back to the field with the daisies.

And the wild gives way to the cultivated, and we're almost back home.

Take off our boots...

...hang up our hat...

...and yes, life is good.

P.S. I just found out that the neighbouring farm has Angora goats! See some gorgeous photos at Bullock Lake Farm

Midsummer Night's Dinner

2011-06-27T09:00:00.000-07:00

Please, join me for dinner. There's room for another plate!

An incredible meal will be served in the spectacular setting of a Salt Spring island heritage farm. An outdoor wood-burning oven has just been built, and Chef Bruce, of Bruce's Kitchen, and his staff are on hand to inaugurate it.

Kyle sets the table.

Marinated olives, hummous, and pickled peppers grace the table.

The oven is lit.

The test pizza is done.

Chef Bruce in his element!

Food heaven is becoming manifest.

A perfect pizza, with spice roasted potatoes, Hertel bacon, Moonstruck Baby Bleu cheese, caramalized onions and pesto.

On to the main course: Molly serves Zack a choice of salads to accompany a roast leg of porchetta style pork. The piggie was raised on whey from an organic dairy, and the meat rubbed with fresh herbs before being rolled and tied by Bruce earlier in the day.

More wine, anyone? All the wines served are from excellent BC vineyards.

A happy, convivial table.

Dessert pizza with Salt Spring chevre chantilly, Frangelico macerated strawberries, and rose petals.

The love and attention that went into this meal can't be shown in pictures. It was a team effort, of local farmers, charming hosts, caring, talented staff, good company, and a brilliant chef.

I was the lucky solo beneficiary of breakfast in bed earlier that day. To find out more, see Bruce's Pantry. I am clearing my inbox in readiness for the deluge of envious comments!

Tripping the Light Domestic

2011-06-20T08:04:00.000-07:00

Look at what Miss Ivy Lou Runnings made for herself! I have been helping her learn to sew, and she chose this fabulous ball gown for her first project. The bodice is an old Anna Sui Vogue pattern, and the skirt is simply gathered into a waistband and made fancy with random "poufs".

The outfit was for a fancy dress ball, that followed a performance by our local dance school. Miss Ivy was featured in four numbers, including a sensational Bollywood-style show stopper.

It was such a pleasure working with this lovely, bright, talented young woman. She has inherited a sewing machine from her grandmother, and I hope she will find time to keep sewing in her busy life.

The only dancing I did was around the garden and kitchen, as I harvested a huge bagful of garlic scapes and then pickled them. The curly stems fit beautifully into the pint jars - showstoppers in their own way.

Rules Rules Rules

2011-06-17T21:51:00.001-07:00

Sherri Lynn Wood, over at Daintytime, has a very interesting series going on Mondays exploring improv quilting. In her latest, she talked about rules and breaking rules and asked us to post our "rule memoirs". Here I go:
1. Work with what you've got.
This simple rule, posed to me by Fred Granzow, my high school art teacher, has become my mantra. It is incredibly valuable in all aspects of life, not just quilting.
2. Everything must line up perfectly.
This is one to break.
The quilters of Gee's Bend changed my life forever. Hallelujah!

Ummm, I think that's it.

Picking Up the Needle Again

2011-06-14T14:03:00.000-07:00

Remember the fabulous hippy-dippy quilt I was working on a few months back? The reason you never saw any pictures of the completed work was that it took a conceptual U-turn when my friendship with the intended recipient ended quite abruptly.

I was faced with what I saw as an ethical dilemma. I had basically finished the centre panel of the quilt, and intended to border it with blocks depicting scenes from the life of the person it was for. Even though I had put a great deal of effort and planning into the images, and I was encouraged by some friends to go ahead and finish it anyway, it didn't seem right to do such personal work when my heart was in a completely different place.

So I scrapped the story images, but kept the corner pieces depicting the directional winds. The quilt now seemed more about place rather than a person. I was reminded of a favourite quote from Canadian poet Alden Nowlan by Bascom Hogue's blog. "For those who belong nowhere, and for those who belong to one place too much to belong anywhere else." I have always felt that these words applied perfectly to the little island where I live.

So, typically, I have made things exponentially more time-consuming for myself. After laying out the text in a single line that will travel up the left side, across the top, down the right side, and across the bottom, I considered some form of applique. I decided I wanted to bring more colour to the green border, and to echo the rainbow in the centre, so I bought a pack of rainbow coloured batik cottons. I then set about drawing out the letters, tracing them in reverse on Steam-A-Seam Lite fusible web, applying each letter in sequence on a different colour, cutting the letters, arranging them and fusing them in place.

But I have little faith in the longevity of fusible web, so have now begun working a little blanket stitch around each one inch wide letter. Yeah. I hope to be finished by June 30. Uh huh.

I just know it will be incredible when it's done. In oh so many ways.

Another Day, Another Beach

2011-06-07T19:02:00.000-07:00

We were enticed down to the shore by this groovy old fishing boat.

Gracie was happy to stretch her legs.

We spotted a number of bald eagles fishing in the ebbing tide. Here are three scouting out the prospects - the brown mottled one is a juvenile.

We were told that they were feeding on midshipmen, a small bullhead-like fish. It was amazing to see them dive and scoop their dinner out of the water, although this guy preferred to just reach in and grab.

Gracie met a playmate and they chased each other back and forth.

It wouldn't be a beach walk with Heather if I didn't include a shot of rock formations. The fractured black shale shore is so different from the smooth sandstone of home.

On the way back Gracie had a drink from a shady forest pool.

And then conked out on our host's couch. She seems right at home!

I did get some stitching done on this trip, and will have photos soon.

Gracie and the Cows

2011-05-31T13:41:00.000-07:00

We've been visiting Moonstruck Farm, home to a herd of gorgeous Jersey cows. Gracie finds them quite fascinating. They seem interested in her too.

These girls came a little closer to check out the furry newcomer.

"I don't know, Buttercup. What do you think?"

Eventually the whole gang showed up. Gracie was calm and curious, although I'm sure if she was on the other side of the fence she couldn't resist rounding them up.

Such beauties. Not possessing the daintiest of table manners though - I was surprised at how loudly they munched the grass.

I want to show these pictures to my doctor. He was trying to convince me that taking Premarin, derived from pregnant horses tied in their stalls and hooked up to tubes to extract their estrogen-rich urine was no different than drinking milk from cows, kept pregnant and in concrete barns all day. I had ethical issues with the Premarin, and told him the milk I drank came from cows who grazed in pastures. He scoffed, and said nobody does that anymore. "See, doc, happy cows!"

Tulips

2011-05-18T10:49:00.000-07:00

Small Pieces

2011-05-17T09:08:00.000-07:00

The She Project came to our little island once again this year. Participants are sent a line of text beginning with the word "she", and requested to respond to the line in two hours, using any medium.

My line was "She cut the ties, and headed out to sea." Given that the spectre of moving is currently looming large for me, this seemed uncannily appropriate. My piece, above, is still unfinished, as I want to mount it inside a larger embroidery hoop, tethered like a drumskin within a circle.

I used an image of a coracle, the round, woven boat of the British Isles, and printed it onto an inkjet transfer. Then I simply embroidered the text in a shade of French blue that my eyes just can't get enough of.

I also made a little pouch from the bit of Saori weaving I did last week at Terri's Salt Spring weaving studio. I liked how different the two sides are. I lined it with a scrap of Japanese silk, and will probably attach a braided strap. My camera fits perfectly within.

Summer Garden Yarn

2011-05-10T11:36:00.000-07:00

I just wound off the skein of the merino and seacell blend that I posted about awhile back. It's not even dry yet, but I had to share a picture with you.

I probably should have plied it a little more firmly, but I love the interactions of the colours.

Second Date: Dinner

2011-05-09T20:07:00.000-07:00

Words fail me. I'll let the menu speak for itself:

Local foraged & cultivated lettuces & herbs
with shaved Salt Spring Montana cheese, house cured pancetta,
croutons & a chopped duck egg, green garlic & anchovy vinaigrette

Brioche & herb crusted wild halibut cheeks with housemade tartar sauce
Risotto of spot prawns, Pastorale braising greens, preserved lemon & fennel

Individual rhubarb pies with cinnamon ice cream & Saanich hazelnut caramel

Each Friday, eighteen very lucky people join the chef at the communal table in his restaurant. Last week, I was one of them. Normally, sharing your date with seventeen other people wouldn't be the best way to get to know a person. But not only did I get to see him in action in the kitchen, but I could witness his modesty, charm and graciousness with both his staff and his guests. And experience pure seduction on a plate.

I was resolute to savour the dinner through the senses, not a camera. But I broke down at the sheer beauty of the dessert.

This particular dinner was in honour of the birthday of the original foodie, James Beard:

"There is absolutely no substitute for the best. Good food cannot be made of inferior ingredients masked with high flavour. It is true thrift to use the best ingredients available and to waste nothing” ~ James Beard

I even made a dress for the occasion.

The night before he cooked for us at home. Here's the fresh mussels hitting the pan.

And done. Mussels with roasted tomatoes, apple, spring onions and fresh basil. Spectacular.

Salt Spring Saori

2011-05-09T19:32:00.000-07:00

This was my first visit to Salt Spring, an island known for its fabulous textile artists. I was very fortunate to visit Terri Bibby's studio. Terri weaves in the Japanese Saori style, and is a distributor for the beautifully simple Saori looms.

Unlike conventional weaving, which is quite technical and involves much planning, measuring and counting, Saori is intuitive, meditative and spontaneous.

I found the height of the loom easy on the back, and treadling felt natural and gentle.

The clever design of the loom allows such neat things as travelling groups of warp threads and switching warps mid-project.

Terri keeps a rainbow of yarn on hand.

Just outside the studio door, these figures reflect the calmness of the space inside.

I first came across Terri's work when I discovered the Earth loom on her blog, Weaving a Life. Terri has also started Fibreshed, a potentially amazing resource linking fibre producers, mills, spinners, weavers, dyers, felters, seamstresses and designers in the Pacific Northwest.

Salt Spring Farmer's Market

2011-05-09T18:30:00.000-07:00

I visited Salt Spring Island this past weekend. Gracie and I got to stay at house overlooking the bucolic Moonstruck Farm. The happy cows give the milk that goes into Moonstruck's beautiful artisan cheeses.

The Farmer's Market in Ganges, the island's town centre, is justifiably famous. Here is a glimpse of some of the locally made goodies available.

This young lad brought his 2-month-old Arucauna chick to hang out for the day.

A beautiful lunch was had at Bruce's Kitchen, right next to the market. The special, which changes daily according to the local produce available and the chef's genius imagination, was poached salmon on a bed of wheatberry salad, baby greens and housemade tartar sauce with fresh herbs. My camera does not do the artistry of this plate justice. And it tasted sublime.

Magnolia

2011-05-09T17:20:00.000-07:00

Cherry Blossoms in the Rain

2011-05-03T06:26:00.000-07:00

Believe it or not, the above photo was taken in the midst of a sunny rain shower yesterday afternoon. Given the results of our Canadian election, I'll have to take it as a symbol of hope that there are some things Stephen Harper won't ruin.

And, as some of you have expressed curiosity as to what's happening on the dating front, I'm heading down to Salt Spring for a weekend with the chef. I'll keep you posted!

Tons of mundane sewing happening, nothing particularly picture worthy.

Except perhaps a mend on my favourite shoes. Gracie chewed the strap of one last fall, and I couldn't bear to look at them, but yesterday I got them out and was able to replace the destroyed strap with a piece of red leather, stitching and some Tacky Glue. I matched the pale pink stitching perfectly, but the thread turned dark when I polished them. Oh well, lots of dancing left in them still!

Verdant

2011-04-25T20:02:00.000-07:00

First date. He made a picnic lunch and brought it in this beautiful basket.

To say the food was sensational doesn't begin to do it justice. I was reduced to wriggling in my seat and making helpless yummy sounds. Herb stuffed roasted chicken, local artisan cheeses.

Salad with roasted corn and little white beans and baby kale. Marinated olives. Medjool dates. The most beautifully delicate smoked trout and succulent prawns that completely transcend description.

There was bubbly, and chocolate, and a little rhubarb goat cheese tart. I think this could quite possibly be the most romantic meal I have ever eaten.

After the picnic we walked along an easy trail to see the falls. So green, so lush,absolutely primordial. Little Qualicum Falls Provincial Park, if you are in the neighbourhood.

Okay, Drucilla would like more details. I did ask if he minded me taking pictures of the food, and he was okay with it. He is a professional chef, and was (successfully) trying to wow me. And I think there will probably be a second date!

Rock Me Baby

2011-04-24T12:28:00.000-07:00

I hugged a rock today,
Seeking to know stoicism and permanence.
Then my dog licked my face,
And as I burst into laughter,
I knew humans aren't meant to be like stone.

I wrote these lines a couple of months ago, after it seemed that I had developed somewhat of a relationship with a certain large rock that I passed on my walk every day. I know that seems pretty darn weird and quite possibly clinically significant. So I didn't share my geological yearnings with you.

But just the other day I was reading David Brazier's Zen Therapy, and came across these words:

Pick up a stone. Turn it over in your hand. Become familiar with it. Notice its colour, its contours, its crevices. As you do the stone becomes real for you. It becomes something. Continue to explore the stone. Feel its weight in your hand. Feel its temperature and texture. The stone is beginning to become a friend.

You may notice other mental factors coming into play: possessiveness, memories, gentle or aggressive feelings, aesthetic judgements pass through one's mind. Try to keep your attention here with this stone. It is possible for your imagination to come into play. The stone fleetingly becomes an implement or something decorative. The surface of the stone becomes a landscape, a miniature world. To the innocent mind, the stone may be anything at all.

And yet, not quite anything, since it does have particular qualities which present themselves and make a real impression upon us. The stone is always other, wonderful and mysterious. As such it can be a friend and not simply an extension of ourselves.

Thus, tenderness grows. We start to care about the stone. Just like a child, we invest caring in the object. From a materialistic viewpoint this is absurd. The rock has no monetary value and minimal utility But is this not precisely the nature of caring? We do not care in order to get something back. We do not have tender feelings for something in order to be able to sell or use it. We simply appreciate the thing itself.

Maybe I'm not so nutty after all!

The Way of Tea

2011-04-21T10:07:00.000-07:00

Thank you, Gwen, for reminding me of the green of macha. For some years now, my dream has been to build a tea house. A proper Japanese tea house, a space both physical and metaphorical, that exists outside of the time and space of this bustling world.

I have collected a few utensils, but so far the tea house only exists in my mind.

The calligraphy on the little painting translates "To deal with each person I meet as if it were an unique occasion." That, I believe, is the heart of the tea ceremony, in both its theory and practise.

It can take a lifetime to master the art of serving a cup of tea.

In The Book of Tea, Kakuso Okakura says the tea ceremony is:

...a cult founded on the adoration of the beautiful among the sordid facts of everyday existence. It inculcates purity and harmony, the mystery of mutual charity, the romanticism of the social order. It is essentially a worship of the Imperfect, as it is a tender attempt to accomplish something possible in this impossible thing we know as life.

Green

2011-04-20T22:38:00.000-07:00

Elvis brought a couple of his ladies over from the orchard to visit the main house. I love his swagger. Just like his namesake, this guy knows how to take care of business.

This week the grass has shot up. Yesterday we mowed for the first time this spring - it smelled so wonderful.

I scored this kettle from the Free Store on my way home from yoga today. It is in almost perfect shape, is made in Canada and still whistles. What more could a girl ask for?

It's Not About Me

2011-04-18T09:00:00.000-07:00

What do they say? "Pride goeth before a fall"? My recent self-congratulatory postings cannot be taken seriously. I just checked my all-time stats, and my five most popular posts, the ones with far and away the most page-views, have nothing at all to do with me or stitching:
1. Wendell Castle's 10 Adopted Rules of Thumb is a list of the late furniture maker's tongue-in-cheek (but nevertheless, true) guidelines for art and life.
2. The Most Beautiful Bathrooms in the World describes my visit to the John Michael Kohler Art Centre's gorgeous, artist created bathrooms.
3. Seven More Sleeps 'Til Buy Nothing Day is a discussion of how to get along with less, with several shining examples of people who do just that.
4. Men and Their Pants comes the closest to actually describing anything stitching related. But I think it's the provocative nature of the title that gets the hits. I tried Googling the title and my link came up on the third screen. Oddly enough, there were quite a few pages about men who PEE their pants that were much more popular than mine.
5. Book Review/Rave: Madeleine Vionnet features my excited gushing about a truly beautiful book.

I don't blog just to get hits, of course. I love the little textile-nerd world that you and I have created, dear readers, and a comments from you means far more to me than 10,000 hits from anonymous cyberspace.

One interesting thing is that 10% of my all-time hits occurred in the last month. I have no idea why that would be so.

Happy Monday, all.

Oh No! Not Another Beach Walk!?!

2011-04-16T22:15:00.000-07:00

Yes, my friends, the beach is constantly changing. I see new things every time. Please come with me, I'll show you.

The tide is ebbing, revealing the oyster bed that lies between Maple Point and Marine Island. Sure, we can gather some and have them for dinner.

See how hard the sun is trying to break through the clouds.

This heron is often here, sitting on a deadhead. Why he opens his wings like that, I don't know - maybe for balance?

What an amazing rock. (Okay, I'll admit it. I have a thing for rocks.)

In summertime, I sometimes eat the bladderwrack after it has dried in the sun. (It's sort of like popcorn.) But this year they are telling us on the West Coast not to eat seaweed because of the nuclear disaster in Japan contaminating our waters.

Looking out across the Sabine Channel, we see a tug pulling a huge container ship, loaded with cheap consumer goods from China. (I assume.) The tiny black specks in the water are the heads of a group of about a dozen seals. They are curious, and will keep an eye on us as we walk around the point.

Here's a closer look at one of the little guys.

The rocks on this side of the island are covered in bright green algae at this time of year.

The sandstone is carved out by the action of waves. Today it is calm, but we wouldn't want to be standing here when it is windy.

Even Gracie seems impressed.

See the hole in the upper layer of rock?

Little patches of sod have managed to build up, allowing other green things to take root.

Gracie rousted an otter! Too bad I was too slow with the camera.

The moon is full tonight. That's why the tides were so low on our walk. It was pretty cool, wasn't it? Glad you came along.

Daffy Dilly

2011-04-16T21:53:00.000-07:00

I have about 26 different varieties of daffodils and narcissus in my yard. They were planted by the previous owner, a fellow of Dutch heritage. There are some real stunners, like the frilly, peachy one above.

There's only one of this variety, and it had fallen over, so please excuse my pink hand.

And this one is my favourite, I think. It's just positioned so sweetly, right next to the pond.

Be Still My Beating Heart

2011-04-13T10:29:00.000-07:00

The Maiwa Symposium list is out!! There is no describing how excited this makes me. I have been fortunate to attend quite a few of the workshops and lectures, and, truly, every one has been nirvana for a fiber-slut like me.

I have posted before on the Ralli Embellishment with Patricia Stoddard, and the Expressive Stitch with Dorothy Caldwell. (Images from Day 2 and Day 3.)

Other memorable workshops have been African Mudprinting, Katazome, and Shibori. One of the things I really appreciate are the other participants. In most situations I am the one who is the most knowledgeable (or crazy-obsessive, depending on your interest in fibre), but at the Symposium MANY people know as much or more than me. There is as much opportunity to learn from your peers as the instructor. Bliss.

As happens every year, I want to take every workshop. Sadly, finances and time mean I have to choose just one, or maybe if I am very fortunate, two. Rughooking and Katazome with Natural Dyes are looking very tempting right now, but oh, dyeing with Michel Garcia or quilting with the artists from Gee's Bend!!! Can't wait 'til registration day.

Mellow Yellow

2011-04-08T11:20:00.000-07:00

I've returned to the wheel after several months away. Just my habitual thread - I will either do a two ply for weaving or maybe Navajo ply it for knitting. No project in mind, just peaceful, easy spinning.

The fibre is a 70% merino and 30% seacell superwash, that I dyed very haphazardly with acid dyes. I wanted quite a bit of yellow in it - seems to be the time of year when my eyes crave yellow. This one tends towards the ochre/peach side of things, once it's spun up, which suits me just fine.

Fresh!

2011-04-08T10:38:00.000-07:00

Here's a bouquet (and some tomato seedlings) on the occasion of my 400th blog posting. Who would have guessed that I could keep writing for so long? I really have to credit my dear readers, because without the feedback and support I would probably have shut up long ago! Thanks for still dropping by, even when I have nothing much to say.

The daffodils are blooming their bright hearts out and I can't keep up with all the eggs the chicken are laying. I am beginning to see over the top of the huge pile of mending that has been brought to me over the winter. It appears to be spring!

Share in making this fantastically delicious and nourishing Spring Tonic soup. An island favourite, it is made with stinging nettle tops. Gather nettles from a spot away from the road, take just the top 6 inches or so, and WEAR GLOVES! As soon as the green are cooked they will no longer sting, and they taste quite like spinach or chard.

3 T. butter or oil
1 large onion, diced
2 c. packed young stinging nettle tops
2 large potatoes, scrubbed and chopped
1 carrot, peeled and chopped
1 t. sea salt
1/2 tsp freshly ground pepper
1 garlic clove, minced
4 c. milk, stock or a combination (Soup will be a bright green with just stock, more pastel with milk)

Saute onion and garlic in oil in a large pot. Add nettles, potatoes, carrot, salt and pepper. Add 2 c. liquid and simmer 'til veggies are soft. Pour into a blender and blend 'til smooth. Return to pot, add remaining liquid and reheat. Serve in bowl with a bit of heavy cream drizzled decoratively if you want to be fancy.

The Elusive Perfect Sweater

2011-04-06T08:03:00.000-07:00

Well, the new Knitty is up, and once again, there's nothing for me to wear! At least, that's my initial reaction, although I did linger over the Daedelus wrap. Of course there are socks there, but they are too fussy for me, and although shawls are beautiful, have you ever seen anyone actually wearing one?

You'd think, with the tremendous interest in knitting these days, and the awesome skill level that's out there, that there would be attractive, flattering patterns that might actually be wearable (for me) on a day to day basis. Maybe it's my peculiar need for a sweater that can go from feeding the chickens to a meeting at the arts centre without looking too scruffy. Or maybe it's my complete lack of fashion sense.

My body type does present a bit of a challenge - big boobs and sloping shoulders mean that anything loose fitting makes me look like a bag lady with ten layers of clothing on. On the other hand, anything too fitted makes me self-conscious.

Maybe I'm not the only one. Granted, I live on an island of just 350 people, but I do get into a city every now and then, and I rarely see anyone wearing a hand knit garment. I know that scads of people are knitting, and the yarn companies keep coming up with more and more gorgeous yarns, but where are the sweaters?

I have in mind my dream sweater, based on the one worn by the little girl Fiona in The Secret of Roan Inish. It is a yellow Fair Isle cardigan, a bit on the smallish side, with a v-neck and set in sleeves. But can I find a pattern for something like that? Ravelry has let me down, so has Knitty, as has the Vancouver Island Public Library.

Still, Fiona's sweater calls to me - its close but modest fit, its subtle colouring, its vintage style. There's nothing to do but design one for myself. I'm not a flat-chested little girl, but as long as I don't put the Fair Isle patterning in the wrong place, I think it could be lovely.

Oddly enough, as I searched for an image of the cardigan I came up with Hollywood Fashion Vault, where a wardrobe has been put together based on Fiona's outfits in Roan Inish. Maybe my dream sweater isn't so far out there after all.

Either that, or what suited living on a small, misty island in a northern latitude in the 1950's is still suitable today.

To Blog, or Not to Blog...

2011-04-03T09:16:00.000-07:00

The lovely and gracious Blandina of La Griccia has bestowed on me an award. I get to display my badge of honour and nominate five others.

I'm supposed to answer five questions about my blogging career, such as it is. Here goes...

- When did you start your blog?
On May 17, 2006, according to my archive. Seems like ten lifetimes ago!

- What do you write about?
It started off with the intent to write about stitching and textiles (to make, to mend, to decorate). But those topics lend themselves to metaphors that can be stretched to cover just about anything.

- What makes this special?
I have no idea how my blog might stand out from the crowd (and I don't expect that it does.) But I try to write about things with a sense of humour and/or intelligence. As my blog does also function as a diary of sorts, I try to be honest, which sometimes leads to me spouting off about my personal life or opinions that readers might find boring or irrelevant. But then, that's the beauty of the blogosphere, one click and you're somewhere else!

- What made you start writing?
I had an art exhibit that I needed to write an artist statement for, and a co-worker had a blog about something dull like politics, but it seemed to be a good outlet for his thoughts. My first post was the artist statement. Since I have worked much of my life in fields like advertising and publishing, and I like to put words and images together, creating a blog seemed like a format that would suit me. And it does, I guess!

- What would you change in your blog?
I would like to add a gallery of images and a bio so that the blog can function a bit more like a website portfolio. And certainly I would like to be more consistent in the quality of the content, but then it's me, and I'm pretty variable, so I guess the blog is just a reflection of my life.

One thing I would add is that I just spent a bit of time looking through past posts. My earlier ones were (I say modestly) really well written, compared to more recent ones. I must be getting blase about the process, or maybe just feel more comfortable not being polished and perfect. But I would like to sharpen up a bit - quality, not quantity.

Now, Deepa, Paddy's Daughter, Drucilla Pettibone, Bicycle Buddha and Lis, you're it! Anyone else who wants to play, jump in.

BTW, the picture at the top is of the Mirabella plum tree in my yard. I wish I could post the lovely sweet scent as well.

Sewing Machine Dreams

2011-04-02T09:21:00.000-07:00

I have been reading Ruth Brandon's A Capitalist Romance, about Isaac Singer and the sewing machine. Who knew that there was such a fascinating story behind the man who created the modern sewing machine? I didn't!

But wait, you say, didn't Elias Howe invent the sewing machine? Yes, he did, and so did a few other people. Howe remains the sole creator of the needle with a tip at the point, a crucial and indisputably unique feature of the modern machine. But Isaac Singer was the bombastic and charismatic figure who truly popularized the sewing machine.

Brandon's book ends with the wonderful, apocryphal story of the machine's invention told by dancer Isadora Duncan (who was involved with Paris Singer, Isaac's son):

The old man had a dream in which a rider on a horse was rushing at him with a spear in his hand. The spear had a hole at its point, threaded with a yellow ribbon, which waved in the wind. The problem was solved: the hole for the thread had to be changed to the point-end of the needle.

Seems that Isadora had got it wrong, albeit with her characteristic flair for the dramatic. Elias Howe is credited with a similar dream:

Where Red Indians were firing arrows through cloth wigwams snagging threads with the tips of the arrows. Elias woke in the middle of the dream, rushed to his workshop and put his dream into practise.

From Alex Askaroff's biography of Howe.

Who knows? Maybe Howe really did have such a (culturally questionable) dream. Both Singer and Howe sought to free the legions of hand sewers and tailors from oppressively long hours of labour and often terrible working conditions. Both would have wholeheartedly endorsed capitalism as the means to making the world a better place. (Which is a whole other debate that I will sidestep here.) I wonder what they would think of the third world sweatshops which exist today as the end result of their invention and ideology?

Maybe that is a simple-minded question on my part, but I can't help but think that great, inventive minds are needed to address not only the technology of a machine, but the social, cultural and ethical implications that come with each new device. This is a vast topic that my wee blog can't hope to explore fully - good grief, I'm still in the 19th century with sewing machines. Don't let me near an Itouch.

Embroidery and Illustration Meet

2011-04-01T16:58:00.000-07:00

And in complete contrast to the previous post, here's Jillian Tamaki's embroidered illustration. She was commissioned to create new book covers for Penguin Classics. Visit her website for Monster Quilt and Penguin Threads. (Above photo belongs to Jillian Tamaki.)

This World Never Fails to Amaze

2011-04-01T08:50:00.000-07:00

Still swamped, but came across this fantastic guy who makes quilts from women's panties.

Thanks to Betsy of Craftivism for bringing "Shovelhead" to my attention.

Louis “Shovelhead” Garrett rents out the basement of his mother’s house in Louisiana, Mo. That’s where he crafts his one-of-a-kind quilts. He’s kind of picky with his panties. He’ll accept silk, acetate, nylon, even rayon. But polyester panties need not apply.

“I don’t want them cheap, dollar store, not-sexy-farm-girl panties. I want classy.”

And no granny-panties. Quilting may sound like a grandma kind of hobby, but Shovelhead’s standards require a more Victoria’s Secret appeal.

So where do 58 pair of classy panties converted into a quilt come from? Mostly from the women in Shovelhead’s life. He does landscaping and odd jobs around town, and asks his clients if they’d like to contribute undergarments to the cause.

“Most all of them donated. There was a few of them that raised their eyebrows and said, ‘You ain’t getting’ my panties,’” he laughs.

Untangling

2011-03-28T16:37:00.000-07:00

I have been absent for a while, I know, but the days are just zipping by and my energy seems low. Happens every year - I think this is what spring fever really is.

Most people would find my current project extremely tedious - I am using it as an opportunity to practise patience and mindfulness. I have been replacing 216 roman blind rings for a neighbour - with the blinds in situ. I'm averaging about five minutes per ring, and am just over halfway done. Yup.

But I did learn something really useful recently, which I want to share with the yarn-y folks amongst you. I dyed over two miles of fine cotton yarn yesterday, and even though I put on lots of ties, it still got impossibly tangled. But I was able to de-snarl it all pretty quickly, simply by grabbing one end of the skein and THWACKing it smartly against a hard surface. Flip it around and THWACK the other end - amazing. Thwack it a couple more times and the skein will be smooth and snarl-free.
(I'm thinking this might just work when the yarn is still damp. More experimentation may be needed.)

Sun and Stars

2011-03-17T16:37:00.000-07:00

I've been embroidering by day, taking advantage of the good light, then quilting at night. You can see how the 'Back to the Garden" quilt is coming along.

I'm going to apply opalescent beads on the crests of the waves.

This is the companion piece to Emma Goldman's handkerchief. The quote belongs to Delores Ibarruri, ardent communist and one of the leaders of the Spanish Civil War. She was an eloquent speaker, known as "La Pasionaria" (passion flower) in her Spanish homeland. She often quoted Zapata's famous line: "I would rather die on my feet than live on my knees." The words attributed to her in this embroidery refer to that statement.

Evelyn Roth and Textile Art in the 1970's

2011-03-16T09:51:00.000-07:00

Here's a blast from the past! In my weird, arty teen years in the remote outpost of Vancouver, British Columbia there was an artist, Evelyn Roth, who did wild and crazy work with used videotape, dance and performance. Her work really captured the zeitgeist of that era, and was a source of encouragement and inspiration for me. She now lives in Australia and, in her own 70's, still makes art.

Check out this video as she talks about working with crocheted videotape. Or this one where she discusses the early years of wearable art.

And, like the loops of crochet, life can circle back on itself in surprising ways. Yesterday, my friend Sam was looking at one of my weaving books and marveling at the mysterious language and technical intricacy involved in weaving. He mentioned attending an exhibit at the Vancouver Art Gallery back in the early '70's that featured fibre art, and said it really opened his eyes about what could be made with textiles. That tweaked a memory in me, as I had visited what was probably the same exhibit as a young teenager. I asked him if he remembered anything in particular from the show, and all he could say was, "It was fuzzy." (So much for the indelible impression it made, but then again he is more interested in guitars and car engines than cloth.)

But when I found the above picture, and showed it to him, he said, "Yes, I remember being amazed at how many miles of videotape it must have taken her to make that." It might be just a coincidence, but who knows how seeing that exhibit may have shaped his thinking and attitude and ended up with him sitting in my living room reading a book on weaving forty years later. So thanks, Evelyn, for your work and how the threads and connections you have made extend through time and continue to be relevant today.

Emma Goldman's Handkerchief

2011-03-14T13:54:00.000-07:00

I've finished one of the more difficult sewing projects of my life. Embroidering on handkerchief linen was a challenge. Microscopic, widely spaced threads combined with 50-year-old eyeballs meant I was stitching by feel more than vision. Still, I'm happy with the results.

The linen being almost transparent didn't help either. It worked best if I sat by the window, with a white backgound so I could see my penciled lines.

I had considered dyeing the cloth black and working black-on-black, thinking of the cloth as an anarchist flag, but that would have been truly insane.

The quote belongs to Emma Goldman, the charismatic and brilliant anarchist leader. She was also a seamstress, supporting herself at various times through her sewing. In her autobiography, she describes arriving in New York City with her sewing machine in one hand, and five dollars in the other.

This piece is part of an ongoing series of embroidered quotes from women, famous and not. I think of them as samplers, occupying a space between function and concept.

Prayers

2011-03-11T09:58:00.000-08:00

News this morning of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. Amongst all the grief and misery in the world, one disaster shouldn't stand out above others, but I loved Japan so much on my visit three years ago, and my heart goes out to the people of that beautiful country.

Swamped

2011-03-09T11:33:00.000-08:00

The incredibly well-made, huge loom arrived on the weekend. It is the size of a Volkswagon. And apparently quite versatile, at least it has already proved useful as a clothes drying rack, coat rack, and pet gymnasium. Just wait til I get a warp on! My first project is to weave four 26" x 60" rag rugs for Flora, who gave me the loom. She also gave me six boxes of fabric that she has collected over the years to cut up and use as weft for those rugs. My hope of reducing clutter through weaving was ridiculously short-lived.

When I'm not tripping over the loom, I am also embroidering furiously to meet a deadline. Also being distracted by the oh-so-fun Sam and Skye quilt, and trying to keep up with all the mending and alterations that are brought my way. Somehow I still manage to find time to walk with Gracie on the beach (my meditation/exercise/restoration time), make wine from last fall's kiwis, and start seeds for the garden. Lounging around practising the accordion and doing blog postings seems to have fallen by the wayside.

Luckily my friend Jennifer Brant has posted an interview with me over at Cosa Verde, which will hopefully fill the gap until I can get back to regular posting.

Thrilled

2011-03-02T09:36:00.000-08:00

That's what I am. The lovely, the talented, the brilliant Drucilla Pettibone has conceived a group show Gay for Eagles, of new work that explores issues of war and peace, gender and sexuality. And some of my work will be included. Check out that lineup - I am humbled to be in a group that includes so many people that I admire. (The image above is of Alexandra J. Walter's piece that inspired the show.)

This will be the first time I have exhibited (off island) since 2008, when I was in a group show at the Kohler Arts Centre in Sheboygan, WI. My life took a significant shift away from career after that, but I continue to create, so it is indeed a good kick in the pants to have an exhibit to work towards.

And speaking of kicks, Drucilla is funding the show through Kickstarter, a very interesting way to raise money. Unfortunately I can't contribute from Canada, but if any of my American friends would like to help out, there are rewards to be had, beyond the good karma. Check it out.

The show will open April 15, 2011 at the Hotel Hadley studios in Siler City, NC.

Hotel Hadley Studios is an artists' collective, gallery and studios housed in a Victorian hotel and located in the historic town of Siler City. North Carolina has a rich history of fiber art, and Siler City is a former mill town, and yet very little contemporary stitching has been exhibited in this area.

A Good Time Was Had By All

2011-02-28T17:39:00.000-08:00

We might not have paved roads or an electrical grid, but we sure do have spirit! (Hmmn, maybe there's a correlation.) This past Saturday saw a great community celebration on our little island, and the unusually winter-y weather just made us more appreciative of all the good things we do have here. Above, baton twirlers practice for the parade.

Our community arts group was fortunate to receive a grant to create a number of murals. They were painted collaboratively over the past two months. The unveiling was combined with a parade, dubbed the Gumboot Stomp. Handpainted gumboots were the order of the day.

More practise seemed to be needed. It's hard to twirl in mittens!

The Bolting Brassicas, our local marching band, led the way.

Oooh, I wouldn't want to be a brass player in this weather!

And, drum roll please, the murals! First, a mosaic for the Arts Centre.

The Farmer's Market will have this for a backdrop next summer.

This mural will be sited in the trees so that it is glimpsed from the road.

Homesteading is the theme of this mural, which will hang on the fence in front of the cemetery.

And the mythical Lasquetia will grace our Community Hall.

More music, a bonfire, a wonderful supper of soup and homemade bread, and storytelling rounded out the evening.

Hippy Dippy

2011-02-28T17:29:00.000-08:00

I'm getting caught up in the vibe of peace, love and understanding.

Sam came to Canada in early 1970, right after Woodstock. I couldn't resist including a line or two of the song.

Which leads to the working title of the quilt: Back to the Garden. Corny, I know, but true. (I used a rainbow metallic machine embroidery thread, and sewed a tiny chainstitch. It wanted to kink like crazy, making the process v-e-r-y s-l-o-w.)

The sheep are groovin' right along with me.

Enso

2011-02-26T09:41:00.000-08:00

These beautiful windows are from More Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan, a gorgeous blog from Ojisanjake, a very interesting fellow. I like to browse his site when I am in need of a bit of peace and quiet.

Better...

2011-02-24T16:24:00.000-08:00

My second attempt at painting with Procion dyes worked much better. I think I was able to control the dyes more successfully and the cloud is less of a disaster. I know the bright colours are not so popular these days, but I think they work for the "storybook" quality of the planned quilt. BTW, I used "Good Glue", a vegetable starch based archival glue for the resist. It worked quite well as you can see, as long as it had time to dry. I squeezed it directly from the bottle, which led to some serious carpal tunnel pain the next day.

I am doing some embroidery before quilting over the white lines of the drawing. (The machine stitching you see is basting, don't worry, it will be removed.) The little sheep are in bullion stitch - which I only yesterday realized I was doing incorrectly, but it works anyway - and I did the ears in raised buttonhole stitch. My first attempt at stumpwork techniques!

I finished the other wind directions a while ago, but am just posting now, so you know I haven't been sitting on my hands.

And I would love to see this exhibition of recycled textiles at the Textile Museum. The quilt from Uzbekistan just makes my heart go pitter pat.

Where 20th Century Art Began

2011-02-20T14:30:00.000-08:00

This quilt that Sonia Delaunay made for her baby son in 1911 is thought to have been the inspiration of cubist painting. Sonia was an very versatile artist and designer, but it was her husband Robert that got most of the credit. More of the story here. And here's her Wikipededia article.
I have always wanted to make a replica of the Delaunay quilt.

Stone Circles

2011-02-20T12:08:00.000-08:00

I have been noticing a number of unusually perfect circles in the sandstone I pass on my beach walks. I assume they are formed by the action of the tides, but who knows? Maybe they are some kind of alien communication.

This one is about four feet across!

Hmmn, almost flying saucer-like.

The rock forms are endlessly fascinating. Maybe I missed my true calling as a geologist.

One lone huge boulder stands sentinal.

Ranting and Rolling

2011-02-18T12:49:00.000-08:00

I could be setting myself up for a lot of comments about how shallow my thinking is and how I completely misunderstand elementary philosophy, but here goes...

A comment from Drucilla Pettibone on my enthusiasm over Betsy Greer's ideas a few posts back really got me thinking. We had been talking about the "baggage" art carries and Drucilla wondered what sort of baggage might be laden upon the shoulders of craft. Of course, any creative endeavour has all kinds of historical, cultural, ideological and philosophical weight attached, so I set the back burner of my brain cooking on this topic and here is what I have arrived at.

Endless amounts of discussion have arisen during the last half century or more on the division between art and craft, with craft often being considered the poor cousin of art. Various theories have been offered as to why this might be, with gender politics being the leading culprit, at least when I was in art school back in the 80's. Rozsika Parker's The Subversive Stitch was our text. The general opinion seemed to be that as women were devalued, so was their creative work, which primarily fell into the region of craft. A significant artwork examining why craft was marginalized, along with the women who made craft, was Judy Chicago's The Dinner Party.

The Dinner Party happened to be in Toronto in 1980, at the same time I lived there, but I never went to see it, even though I had a friend who worked at the AGO and who could get me in for free. I was put off by the hoopla surrounding the installation, and the "artstar" behaviour that my friend said that Chicago had exhibited towards the gallery's staff. And I, being young and not well attuned to feminist thought, felt that the images I saw of the work, particularly the plates were a little, well, unsubtle. So I missed my chance.

But last year I picked up a copy of Embroidering our Heritage: The Dinner Party Needlework at the local Free Store. I figured I owed it to my own work to at least be familiar with such an iconic piece of art, which The Dinner Party has come to be. But I still didn't read it until just recently. I was amazed at the whole project and particularly impressed with the quality of the needlework (39 embroidered runners and three altar cloths) that were created by unpaid volunteers, often art students who were unskilled in embroidery to start with. (Much controversy was created by Chicago's supposed treatment of her workers, who were mainly uncredited. Perhaps this book is an attempt to correct that, but I still came away with the idea that Chicago had a pretty overwhelming ego. The workers are listed in a small chapter at the back.)

My point, which I do have somewhere, began to formulate after reading the part of the process where the workers, after spending hundreds of hours of volunteer time creating really magnificent embroidery, had to cut HOLES in the runners to accommodate the bolts that would securely attach the plates to the tables. (Theft and security issues take priority over the integrity of the object.) Apparently this was quite traumatizing to the workers, but Chicago says that "in typical Dinner Party fashion, everyone became involved to make the slits as attractive as possible, even though they knew that they'd never be seen."

What I see here is the subordination of craft to the greater glory of art. And hence the voluminous baggage. Chicago knew early enough on that the plates would need to be secured, and could have designed the runners so that the holes were included. The workers saw cutting into their embroidered cloth as a violation - and I see it not just as invalidating their time and skill and ruining the integrity of the cloth, but as fundamentally shifting the role of the cloth from a functional, stand-alone object to becoming a representation of itself to serve a larger purpose.

And here I defer to Philosophy 101, and Plato's Cave. Plato describes a group of people who have lived chained to the wall of a cave all of their lives, facing a blank wall. The people watch shadows projected on the wall by things passing in front of a fire behind them, and begin to ascribe forms to these shadows. According to Socrates, the shadows are as close as the prisoners get to viewing reality. He then explains how the philosopher is like a prisoner who is freed from the cave and comes to understand that the shadows on the wall are not constitutive of reality at all, as he can perceive the true form of reality rather than the mere shadows seen by the prisoners.

In the Dinner Party, I suggest that the embroidered runners held their true form until the moment a hole was cut in them, and they then became a representation, a shadow. Of course this is part of the baggage art has been struggling with since Plato's time, of how to be "real."

Craft, I believe, is inherently real. It is made with our hands, and has purpose in our lives, as of course does art. But craft begins and ends as itself, whereas art functions in a more ephemeral way. This is not to say that craft cannot transcend boundaries, because of course it can. But it doesn't have to.

Wall of Shame

2011-02-15T08:50:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I did everything you're not supposed to do. I didn't follow instructions, I kept on going in spite of all signs telling me to stop and think, and even when I found myself in a place I didn't much care for, I told myself everything was fine. And I ate too much chocolate...

Actually, I probably didn't eat enough chocolate. But the other stuff is sadly true.

This is what I did:

Blechh.
What was intended to be the centre panel for the quilt started off well. I reworked Skye's drawing a bit, then scaled it up to 24" by 32" using the ancient hand drawn grid method. I initally thought I might applique the panel, then had the brilliant (ahem) thought that I could paint all the colours with fabric dye, and embellish as needed with embroidery.

I pre-soaked my cotton fabric with soda ash, let it dry, and transferred the design with dressmaker's carbon paper. All good. I mixed my dyes and added sodium alginate to thicken them in preparation for painting.

Oh. Did I mention that, whilst I did a fair amount of playing with acrylics and brushes at art school, I have never painted with fabric dyes before? Well, how much different can it be, I thought, and barged on ahead.

Sample?? Hah, my arrogance had no patience for such minutia. My brush was already in the colour - it seemed a little dark, but then it always dries lighter.

Oops! It seems to be bleeding. Well, the book suggests using a resist - white glue will do. Hmmn, it seems to be taking a while to dry, I'll just work on a different section.

Damn!! I put the wrong colour in that part. Oh well, I'll cover it up with a piece of cloth later.

And so it went, for at least six hours. I wrapped it in plastic, to let it batch (fix) for 24 hours, as the book said.

I had some leftover quinoa and lettuce for supper. That's not a dish. It was quinoa out of the pot and a chunk of lettuce in the hand, not even with any dressing. As I chewed I eyed the plastic-wrapped bundle.

You know it, I couldn't wait. Rinsed it out and surveyed the results.

I was so caught up in the excitement of creation that the obvious flaws were piffle to my eye. It would just take a little stitch here, a patch of fabric there - I would make it work!

Maybe it was the day's poor nutrition, but I actually auditioned several different cloud fabrics, chose one, and spent the next hour stitching it into position. (With crap Chinese embroidery floss, which shows you how far gone I was.) 10:30 p.m., and I had less than half the cloud done. I held it up to look at it, and the blessed angels stepped in.

"Heather," they said. "It will take much more time to fix this than to just do another one. Consider today practise."

And in my only wise move of the day, I listened. Soaked another piece of fabric in soda ash solution, and hung it up to dry overnight.

Rainy Day Beach Walk

2011-02-12T20:07:00.000-08:00

There was a heavy downpour today, followed by a qualicum (westerly wind) that blew the clouds away and let the late afternoon sun bathe the beach in iridescent light.

The driftwood, rocks and seaweed were clearly delineated and seemed to glow from within.

I got a bit carried away.

Blowing From the Southeast Today

2011-02-10T08:11:00.000-08:00

I wasn't up so late last night, but I did finish another square.

This post from Betsy Greer at Craftivism really got me thinking. What she says about her experience of being taught that one had to suffer to make art, and finding out that craft has no such baggage, resonates with me. I went through the whole art school thing, and although we had a Marxist slant and identified as “cultural workers”, not tortured artists, there was still often that lack of authenticity that Betsy mentions.

I was more successful in the career sense than many of my classmates (had shows, got grants, made sales) but, in retrospect, I hated it. I have sewn since I was a kid, knitted since my early 20’s, and that is what has persisted, has always been there. I still work with craft in an art context (or maybe I should say I work with art in a craft context.) I don’t know where the dividing line is.

But if I wasn’t a knitter or quilter, I would probably be like Agnes Martin, painting orderly line after line. The repetitive, soothing action of making stitches helps me feel whole. It is real, concrete, tangible evidence of my being here in the world. And at the same time, ephemeral.

Just like life.

And for something really amazing, check out this article on healing with cloth.

Four Strong Winds

2011-02-09T09:14:00.000-08:00

Have you ever been so excited about beginning a project that you stay up way past your bedtime, sewing into the wee hours? That happened to me last night - I so much wanted to see my first block finished.

This quilt is in honour of a very special father and daughter, Sam and Skye, and in celebration of Sam's fortieth year in Canada. He was a single parent, and raised an intelligent, beautiful and capable girl, all on a remote little island. Her drawing (done as a teenager) was the actual starting point for the quilt, and will be the centre portion.

I am planning on using a combination of applique and embroidery for this panel - part of why I asked the question a few posts back about the mystery applique technique.

The outer portion of the quilt will be Sam's story, which is almost an archetype of the time and place in which he lived - coming to Canada from the U.S. in 1970, living off the land, experiencing adventure, adversity and love. The first block is one of four - representing the heavenly winds of cosmic power and vital spirit. Each block is a little different, and will be placed on the four corners of the quilt. They are guardians and guides. The first one, pictured above, is Southwest.

The faces are based on a very old map of the world, that personified the various winds as well as unknown territory. When one begins a journey, it is helpful to have a map!

I began stitching with split stitch and four strands of DMC floss, and hated the way it looked. It was slow going too, as the thread obscured the line I was trying to follow. I switched to stem stitch with three strands, and liked that better, although getting a smooth line on inside curves still eludes me. I sense there is a sweet spot between stitch length and angle of curve - one day I'll find it. Running stitch is a no-brainer for the breath of wind.

One last observation from my stitching marathon - I usually strip the thread, which is separating all six strands in a length of floss and then combining them in the number desired, using the fingers to smooth and release tension from the thread. (Nataline Chanin calls this "loving the thread.") A couple of times I lazily just used three strands in a bunch straight from the skein, and I could feel the difference as the thread moved through the cloth. It felt a little rougher, and the individual strands didn't lie as smoothly on the surface of the fabric. Small point, to be sure, but revealing as to the sensitivity of touch and the way thread reflects light.

I can't wait to begin the next square. It will be a long process, as I plan twenty border squares, plus the large centre panel. My goal is to be done in time for Artsfest on Canada Day weekend (that's July 1, 2011).

Another Day, Another Quilt

2011-02-03T19:01:00.000-08:00

I finished the quilt I was making for a community fundraiser. I'm quite happy with it, even if it is a little too dainty for my taste. The scalloped border took a good seven hours of work! Fiddly, but worth it, I think.

The embroidered linen squares were made at least thirty years ago by a friend of Sue's grandmother. She was glad to donate them so they would no longer be lurking accusingly in her workbasket. The squares were pre-stamped with the patterns, and quite nicely embroidered.

The border is of linen from a beautiful but stained sheet. It feels so lovely and smooth. The sashing came from Charlotte's stash, and contains a percentage of polyester, as I ruefully discovered a bit too late. It had an annoying tendency to slither around the table as I was piecing the top. The backing was a thrift store sheet that I had bought to use on my bed as I liked the colour. But I found the very high thread count made it too soft and clingy, so quilt backing it is!

Of course Angus had to get in on the action. He provided a useful weight to keep the fabric from slipping to the floor as I drew the scallops on the border. If you would like to know the fine details of scallop making, I found Linda Franz's tutorial a great help.

More Maiwa in Bengal

2011-02-03T09:07:00.000-08:00

I hope the dyers amongst you are following the Masterclass in Bengal posts on Maiwa's blog. So fascinating.
The photos and following quote are from today's post.

Today is mordant day. For those who are new to natural dyes, know this: dyes require that fibres be treated with a mordant if the dye is to live a long and joyous life on the cloth or yarn. Exceptions are substantive dyes (like walnut and tannins) that can bind directly unders some conditions. The plot thickens when we understand that for cotton the mordant will not stay with the fibre unless it is first treated with a tannin. Michel encourages us to think of this more complicated relationship in terms of friendship: the friend of my friend is also my friend. Cotton is friends with tannin, tannin is friends with the mordant, and the mordant is friends with the dye.

Wow

2011-01-31T08:30:00.000-08:00

Oh, to be a frog on the wall at Maiwa's Master Class in Bengal.
Photo is from the article.

Identify the Technique

2011-01-30T12:33:00.000-08:00

Please, somebody help me. What is this applique/embroidery technique called?

It seems to have been a popular form in the mid-20th century. I have a number of vintage tray cloths and teatowels with similar floral motifs.

I can't find it in any of my books or online, although that's probably because it's hard to search for something for which you don't have a name. The fabrics seem to have shading pre-printed, and applique shapes are stitched down with a tiny blanket stitch. Thanks for any clues my dear readers may be able to give.

My current quilt project is pictured above. Definitely not my usual style - I was given a number of vintage hand embroidered linen squares and have put them into a quilt for a community fundraiser. I tried to cut the sweetness with the dusty green edging. It will have a scalloped linen border - something I haven't done before so it will be fun to take on a challenge.

Universe Unfolding As It Should

2011-01-27T17:11:00.000-08:00

There has been an unseen framework behind my recent posts. Odd as it may seem, too much fabric, a visit to a fellow weaver and lace collector, natural dyeing and possibly even accordion playing are linked together in this great Web. The common factor is the wonderful news that I am being gifted a 60" Glimakra loom!

I sold my 36" Leclerc a few years ago and have regretted it ever since. Flora, one of the senior ladies of the island, and a fine spinner and all round textile enthusiast, decided her loom should be used rather than packed away - so she has given it to me. A few small strings are attached, the most important one being that the first items off the loom shall be rugs for Flora's house. She has asked Marie-Ange and I to collaborate on this project. I'm really looking forward to working with Marie-Ange and I think we're both hoping to learn from each other.

I am also thrilled because I will be able to transform some of the fabric spilling out of the cupboards and closets into some beautiful and practical rag rugs. I hope to begin a study of saki-ori (Japanese weaving with rags) as well.

My large collection of plant dyed yarns will become blankets - one of my favourite ways to use odd lots of yarn is to doubleweave plaid mixed warp blankets. Yeah! More cupboards emptied out. I love how weaving quickly uses up LOTS of yarn.

And to celebrate stash-busting, warmth, comfort, and friendship, I just might play the accordion.