color rescue

I thought about it some overnight and remembered how much I liked the  results from using various dry agents to carry and distribute raw dye powder.
(see Sugar Dyeing for a full explanation and some rules) .

Today it was a half pound of quinoa that I bought last year with the intention of cooking it up to see if I like it.  I wasn't in the mood for cooking or eating any weird or good for me so it's languished in the pantry since last summer.

 Since then there's been some controversy about how the booming demand from other places for quinoa has driven up the price devastated  the local culture and economies where it was a staple crop. More about that here and here.
So I went ahead and put my half pound to work in the service of my art.

These are outside in the garbage bag incubator baking in the sun. I'm wondering if the dry grains will swell with the heat and water and make patterns on the cloth.  If there's time I'll hatch them out before work today. Below is the first tablemopper of the season - always full of promise.

color fatigue?

As nice as it was outside today, I had to mix the dyestock in the kitchen - it was too breezy out for safe handling of fresh dye powder. Running water was nice too, instead of dipping and rinsing tools and containers in a big tub on the deck.

So I took my time and got the basic colors mixed but I ran out of gas and

and squeeze bottles for the variant colors. I had a few pieces of cloth ready for wiping up but did a few quick and dirty baggies instead.

The violence of everything seems shocking to me. I think my brain has been regrooved in recent months. I put the dyes in the refrigerator and will think about what comes next.

sunday early

In preparation for mixing the first new batch of dyestock for this season I spent some time inventing some new color names...the colors themselves won't come until I get to the worktable later today...among the contenders: Octaria, Spar, Beaucoup, Slurry, Plush and Sunday Sauce. There will be my standards: Monkey Blood, Steel and Blue Lightning! New names help me think about regular colors in a new way when I am building a palette from red/yellow/blue.

Meanwhile I spent the morning visiting with Jake who stopped by to render the verdict on Colin's car (well worth salvaging to our collective relief)  and packing up a box of Art to go off to market.  I was a bit distracted and forgot to put the duck pillow in the box. Next trip.

And that's not a breast on the box - it's a piece of a page from an old calendar with paintings by Georgia O'Keefe - a painting of a shell rather injudiciously snipped by yrs trly trying to make a pretty label. I'll make a pasty before I subject the inmates at the PO to anything that could possibly be interpreted as racy. The blue marker didn't take over  the tape.

freed

Here they all are freed from that fusty pink background. I'm not even going to address "now what?' for a while.

They have the feel of patches to be sewn on something  wearable.

But I'm going to set them aside for now because this weekend, the sun is supposed to be out and the temps in the 70's.

It's been so long....

moo

It's been that kind of a day - rainy and cold, only fit for curling up in the stitching chair.

But first thing this morning I got bogged down ordering postcards from MOO.  25% off is hard to resist when you chance upon something you actually need.

What I should have done was select images before hand and checked that each one was adequate to the print process, but I worked "on the fly" as their web process encourages. It's a lot like what happens at a buffet...so many tasties out there that you put one tiny dab of 20 things on the plate. Too much to eat but not enough to satisfy. I was upset to find that many of my images were not large enough.  This is my first MOO experience...I'll let you know how things pan out.

some redecorating

As much as I loved the old header, it's time for some shaking up. In anticipation of the new dye season, the image behind the title above is a damask table napkin that I got "hands on" with last season. Errand number one today is a stop at the pool supply place for a tub of soda ash.

I've also tried to improve readability, enlarging the fonts that matter...let me know if I've made a difference. So much depends on each users viewing settings.

fiber surgery

Nope, not a background....

Freeing the elements from that sad background is underway. One done and my right hand is shot even though I've put my Dad's wire cutting shears to work.

I'm thinking an exacto knife might make things a little easier.

You can see the thickness and density of the cotton batting. This was actually a sheet of printers felt that I scored a long time ago. It was not a good choice for the purpose. Now I'm paying.

a short digression

I finally got all those wormy, deeply carved machine stitches picked and washed out of this piece .

Its' been blocked on the design wall because the thick cotton felt batting that I used has felted and allowed the base cloth, a very old piece of damask, to pucker and wander in places.

I'm still at a loss over its lack of sense. It looks like a chunk of 1920s wallpaper.

Thanks to the magic of digital manipulation, I'm sorely tempted to take the big knife to it and get several small things that work all on their own, like this:

taking steps

After all the festivities and hostess-ing I'm also proud that I made a deadline!

"Material Witness" being held by the WCAGA right here in Georgia.

Time to get some of these creatures out into the public eye. I'd cross my fingers but I have work to do.

all manner of celebrations

It's been an interesting weekend.  Discussions with a young and successful commercial artist (the great Bamboota!) has led me to new paths of thought regarding specialization and niche marketing. This article about the death of art galleries and the games played out there was a brain expander as well.

detail from current wip

Throw in an orgy of unaccustomed physical activity (that pot garden) and few thousand alien calories and I feel like the day after certain illicit activities back in the late sixties with some new grooves in my brain and some old ones paved over.

As an unaffiliated and unshriven heathen I'm always interested in the religious and secular festivities of other groups. Neighbors up the street have roasted something large on a spit and are now soccering loudly. Folks were rioting for chocolate bunnies in the stores around noon today and a local hardware store was giving away bunches of nearly dead flowers. I took some of course.

So I left TB with my holiday lunch (chalupas and lime spritzer) and crossed the street to a decommissioned church and sat in the car listening to jazz and waiting out the sudden downpour. When the rain stopped I could see that I had backed my car right up to the edge of the abandoned cemetery and so, left my raggedy but hopeful and highly redolent purple hyacinths planted over Mrs. L. E. Paris, dead of the grippe in 1888. Once home, I sat through most of my favorite vaguely religious cartoon - "the Prince of Egypt" . Happy Easter y'all.

 Now it's time to settle in for a nice stitch fit.  I dreamed my way through several approaches and have decided that I'm going to spend a good long time embroidering this one.

You can see why the look of this animation appeals to my magpie brain.

Now it's Spring..

I used chunks of broken cast iron and some good sized pebbles to keep the drainage clear and built a base of bricks to get pot up off the ground. This tub is nearly three feet across and tall, a real beast.

Bless Colin for all the heavy lifting and shoveling. I got the fun part, setting the plants and watering.

Our first garden visitor of the season looks like royalty.

I really like this....

Happy Friday everybody!

There is nothing like having company to shake up a lax household. Since my Goodman has gone on the road for his job this place has become rather like Animal House without the liquor and the orgies...just the Sloth, thank you.

But because one of Colin's friends is here for a short visit I was out the door at 8 to get the makings for breakfast and a spaghetti dinner. Bathrooms were sanitized, and the whole place generally deloused before the arrival. I may take up offering the living room couch once a month on AirBnB just for the incentive.

I don't think I've cooked a decent meal since Jim was last home and that didn't turn out all that great. The other night I even let Colin talk me into having TB for dinner. I do not want to know what is in a Baja Chalupa or the Apple Carmel Empanada, I just know they were delicious.  If left to my own devices I would be eating bread, butter and sugar sandwiches, turkey pot pies and Nestles Quik stirred into water and the occasional roll of raw cookie dough . Yes, that bad.

While I was out shopping I was waylaid by the displays of annuals banked up in front of every place with a cash register and did my bit to support the economy of Plant City, FL.

I started pulling the old dead stuff out of the giant planter by the front walk only to find that just under the surface  the pot was filled with water. I was able to get it turned on its side to drain but the whole gardening thing will be on hold until I can  clean it out and start from scratch.

Can it be? Actual fun in the studio? Had myself a good start on my own kind of  Holi day  most of yesterday and before noon today..I don't know what's being celebrated but I'm having a good time.







I know design rules are being violated up, down and sideways but at this stage of  why be a spoiler?  It's early and wiser eyes will settle in along the way.

the little things

While I was shooting something else, I rediscovered this tiny detail sewn into one of the corners of the backside of "Spooky Stories".

I remember carrying this tiny shred of damask around in a shirt pocket for the longest time. It got washed inside there several times.

Just two inches on the long side, I just didn't want to see it dissolve into nothingness.

sunny day color play

Just having a little quick and dirty color  play in celebration of  a sunny day over fifty degrees, the full moon and a day off from the whine mine.

Time for a little basting before he comes back for round two.

auditioning and wraps-ups

I started the morning with all good intentions - the only way to a fresh start is with fresh materials - so I pulled a couple of the "mine" bins from the shelf and began eyeballing things. Too many things, as it turned out.

Unfortunately, I also came across FOUR nearly finished small things and my Yankee frugality kicked in and derailed my boho-creative side for practical matters at hand. Git 'er done.

story telling and true truths

What to do on a rainy Sunday afternoon when the muse is awol but to surrender to our resident film critic and watch a film he's been insisting I would enjoy. He was right.

Cloud Atlas was visually compelling, revelatory and inspiring. You have to wonder about why certain films don't make it out to a wider audience. It's nice to know that  True truths have a way of getting out there.

whitework

While artists all over the world are exploring "white" with Jude, I unearthed this little 12" square that I did some time ago. I do recall being mostly unsatisfied with it because nothing I could do compared with the beautiful scrap of Mountmellick embroidery (that very white, deeply embroidered flower) that I had the nerve to incorporate and stitch all helter-skelter around.  

Somehow that doesn't bother me much anymore and I have an idea of how I want to finish it.

voodoo in repose

Voodoo making the best of a damp, chilly Friday afternoon.  

Pops "Spooky Stories" has become the favorite cuddle in the studio.

Basta!

Enough! I've turned the room upside down and can't find them. I need a chirper for my cutlery. Must speak to M about that.

I've convinced myself they were getting dull and had been disappointing me. As soon as I buy a new pair (yay 50% off coupons!) they will turn up and I will grovel, apologize and love them.

Nothing wrong with two or three or four good scissors..

churning, hunting

Aimless rooting around in the studio still looking for my black scissors. Once I find them (and I will) I will probably not recall why. In the meantime,  I've unearthed a few small things that will I'll put into the store for a short while before I ship them  off to NY.

Carousel

Come on Spring.

But Brrrr...it's still too chilly and damp out for dyeing. Those blacks were more than forgettable, btw, but the cloth is sturdy  despite its age and will hold up to discharge and over dyeing.

My spring banner keeps growing (that grid paper has one inch squares) but it's very unstable comprised mostly of vintage linen and damask pieces joined edge to edge.

Mission accomplished...added a few elements, layered it over a strong but lightweight base - formerly a kitchen curtain, I left the trim peeking out of the bottom. Nothing left but to set a good sleeve and send it off. But wait...what about some beads and buttons....

banner and new blacks

My spring flag has grown into a banner as I cast about for a starting place on the Next Big Thing..

As warm and beautiful as it was yesterday, the weather has turned raw and damp here with violent thunderstorms coming this afternoon.

Flying in the face of this nasty business, I ripped into that Persian cotton and have two pieces steeping with the new Procion blacks, 628 & 629, just sprinkled on straight from the packets they sent me. I'll leave them overnight because I have to work tonight. Updates and pictures in the morning.....

pillaging the westside

 Booty is the only way to describe it!  JR and I braved the drunken hordes and hit the road yesterday and found three (or was it four?) new reuse/recycle locations in the Marietta/Buckhead neighborhoods of Atlanta.

All I can say is blessings on the  people who buy stuff, never use it and then give it away. And bless too,  the reformed hoarders who finally break down and give up the stuff they've been sitting on for forty or fifty years.

For a song and a smile I got yards of heavy, cream colored cotton sheeting loomed in "Persia" which dates this cloth from sometime before 1935. It came out of the washer and dryer soft and fresh and ready for the dye. There was a square yard of vintage, fine woven flour sacking, and this hooked rug pattern printed on burlap.

I've written to the company to see if they can date it for me and perhaps give some guidance about what materials and colors to use, should I decide to commit which I doubt I will..burlap really puts me off. For a dollar I couldn't leave it behind.

We couldn't help but cackle gleefully as we roamed the aisles. And bless JR who kept me from buying a pair of used men's golden Nike Hi-tops.

spring flag

Just a little flag for Spring.

I find myself thinking about other things entirely while I stitch on this one. Gardens, beaches, warmth, sunshine, sleep, peace ..so I don't know what will become of it. For now just some warm-up pitching.


(and yet I took hours to decide where that "eye" should go)





I used my Goodman's new little Coolpix in a reckless point and shoot mode for this picture and I am seriously covetous! Click in for some wicked detail...

very happy friday

Two pieces of cloth uncovered in the churn. The top one I'm working out how to incorporate into a larger whole. I may have to dye some cloth to do it.

The one below, I just can see ever cutting it apart so I'm just going to hang it up and be entertained.

We have a house guest and I am so happy.

cold sun, fresh starts

 I spent some time yesterday churning the scraps looking for some inspiration.

While I was in NY I cut the tip of my index finger (cardboard is worse than paper!) and this morning was the first time I could do any stitching without pain but more importantly, without getting blood on things. My fingerprint is permanently altered.

It's nice to find my way back to color after all that black and white. The first dye fest of the season will be on me before I know.


This mostly finished piece turned up in the churn. I think it's ready to finish and let  fly.

back in service

I brought Spooky Stories back home with me from NY.



I wanted  Dad to use it but made the mistake of telling him that it had been on display at a museum briefly. After that, it stayed folded and draped over the back of the chair by his bed.

It's one of my favorite "crossover" pieces. Fully utilitarian, (I even used  Silamide thread for the beading) I built it to be used, dirtied, then machine washed and dried.

I remember that it was fun to make, each foot square block composed independently. I do recall selecting all the fabrics and sequestering them in a project basket..my feeble attempt at limiting my palette.

Once the top was complete, it was layered over W&N cotton and backed with two beautiful Timeless Treasures  prints and then hand quilted with doubled 12wt. Sulky cotton.

home

my Goodman, '76?

I got home from NY late last night and was received by the grateful hairy horde. My son appears to have been dating Martha Stewart in my absence because  windows were washed, the microwave scrubbed and carpets vacuumed.  I'll just be thankful and not wait for the other shoe to drop.

Some dear old friends who came to the viewing brought some photos that I had never seen and, earlier,  I was tasked with going through my family's heaps, boxed and books of photos to make two collage boards for my Dad's wake.

moi in mouton

My sister Kitty looks exactly like my Mom. 

This poor photo had mold and blue crayon marks ..my photoshop skills are basic but I think I'll have a print made of this one.

Spring Snow

The TV says this area (Goldens Bridge, NY)  will have a foot of snow before it stops.

All the preparations for company are done. It remains to be seen how many will  be able to get here for Dad's wake today but then again, this is the northeast and more people are accustomed to and equipped for driving in this kind of weather. Back in Georgia this would be Armageddon.

Now there time for some quite stitching.

caesura

A very large box of the most exquisite treasures has arrived from New York.

Here is a heavy cotton damask tablecloth that I could probably cover my car with, four or five yards of the blackest fine, wool gabardine and three vintage woven towels. There is also an expanse of cream colored raw silk and at least a dozen other assorted damask tablecloths, all from the 20's or 30's, like my pop who was born in '26 or '24 depending on who you talk to.

It also occurred to me that I packed this box myself back in January on my last trip home when Dad and I had good, meaningful conversations and said our goodbyes.  I'll be taking a hiatus from this space for the duration of the memorials and celebrations and take inspiration from all these glorious pieces of pure potential. He's like that.