I got mine!

You know how I am...

the rest I've divvied up and are for sale.








I kept this little weirdo too.

the dryer buzzes!

the damasks.

Now I can see which colors need tinkering with. The black is better than it looked wet.

Grace, this is the rest of that hard linen I sent you.

It loves the dye, as I predicted.

and most happily, my fish. ready to fry.

session 1, wrap-up

Who else gets up to rinse cloth before the coffee is ready?

Superstitions, I rinse out the color 'kin" together. Learned that from accidental fuschia poisoning.

The fish came out exactly as I hoped. Looking forward to putting them on..everything.

Now, you know about getting too excited over wet cloth. But I suspect the center will hold.

Everything has been through the Zombie washing machine, gently, and is now tumbling because I don't want to wait for the sun.

I can tell from here that the black is going to need tempering away from warm. I'll divide the remaining stock in two and mess with them. Have to think about how.

Opening Day!

Not baseball. That's next Monday. It's the first dye fest at the Lawrenceville Frankenstein Dyeworx, indoor division, kitchen table league. (It's still a bit brisk outside today and I just couldn't wait.)

Once the colors have been cooked, things move pretty fast. I knew what I wanted - pure color -  and the session was over and done in an hour and half. Well, part one anyway.

Remember the fish batik that I cut into pieces? The plan was to overdye each one with a different color and then applique them back onto, I don't know what yet. Maybe stinky little pine pillows.

That pile of victims up above was the remains of a very tough linen tablecloth and a very tired cotton damask one. I think both will take up the color like camels at the oasis.

I'm not religious about batching like some. I've been known to give things a hot hour in the sauce and then hit the rinse. I'll leave these bits bagged up until tomorrow. I have other things to attend to.

My personal schedule has been tilted thanks to the day job. My new weekend is Thursday & Friday and my new start times the rest of the week is 4:15pm. Everything else will have to flux around that crap. At least I will get to go to some Friday night baseball games this season - the last at Turner field.  The fireworks should be outstanding.

Here is the first tablemopper of the season. I didn't preset it with soda ash this time but did drop it in a baggie with a half cup when cleanup was done. Somehow these derelicts become the star of my scrap basket every year and used to find their way into my more interesting pieces. Time will tell.

(notice the eyelet flannel sheet under everything, picking up drips and stains)

close call

On my 27-minute dinner break from the paying job, this came into my line of sight and I came very close to folding it in half and stitching it into a pillow so I could stuff it with five pounds of balsam fir needles that have been reeking around the studio for a few days. The only thing that saved it (?) was that the Janome was not rigged up with white thread. I'll finish this as Art over the weekend and we'll have an auction!! I'll make stinky pillows from something else.

Colors of the days

I'll lead with the pretty pictures and I can see now that a few of these need tinkering, but I'll stay my hand because these are the concentrates that I will work with, so a little bit goes a long way - even with my predilection for waste. I need to find a good sized disposable syringe, the turkey baster is too big.

While waiting for these to come up to room temp, I replaced the agitator dogs in the washing machine- the final phase of restoring it to useful life before having to knuckle under and buy a replacement. No washer = no dye season. Never mind clean clothes. I work from home. Clothes?

I followed this funny video and found it to be much like playing with Lego. Years ago I tore down and rebuilt the carburetor in our lawn mower and MANY years ago, swapped out the engine and tranny in my '63 Ford Fairlane. Most satisfying endeavors. The washing machine thing was not nearly as hard on the fingernails, but Kids, it's Nasty in there!  Building computers from scratch is a joke by comparison. Hands-on feels good. What's next?  And where the hell did I put last years seeds????

I missed Ostara...

...so I'm celebrating today while everyone else is Eastering.

I should have taken this outside for better exposure, buts it's drizzling and I've lost the tent cover over the dye deck to rot and old age.

The fun part was trying to read the labels on the powdered dyes. 90% have faded away which doesn't speak well to the way I stored them.

Only time will tell if this batch of dye stock will be valid.

I stuck to the twelve. I'm particularly happy with what looks to be a very neutral black. No more cheesy plastic squeeze bottles. I invested in a dozen 16oz. mason jars which rack up nicely on the bottom shelf of the fridge.

No more fooling with this stuff today, although I'm tempted. I have a writing project with a deadline. These will keep until we get some sunshine. And I'm happy with this salvage job:

the provenance of twine

One of the prototype cusspots.

This one was made from 12 strand cotton string that came from the first post office that my mother worked at in Goldens Bridge. They used to tie bundles of mail and magazines with this stuff. In a pinch, they could have used in a hanging. When the old PO was closed, they were going to throw four giant cones of this in the trash. I was twelve and I knew it was wrong. This was the very last of it.

This is about the size of a baseball and was covered car grime. A soak in laundry detergent, no bleach and it looks like the day I made it and will go back to catching coins in the console of his car.

All this whiteness has me itching to stoke up the dye deck this weekend. I feel the need for color.

sweetness

There's nothing sweeter than unexpected company on a Sunday morning.

(My camera needs its eyes checked)

the Sordid Tale continues...

"The Error of Her Ways"  (cont.)

Picking everything out wasn't as bad as I anticipated.  Music helped. The base cloth is a sturdy, service weight damask, not too vintage, so it can take a little punishment without falling apart.

But..web research is telling me I am well and truly screwed for using an indelible (hello!) metallic gold ballpoint ink to so arrogantly lay out the lettering. Such chutzpah!

The solution I'm too familiar with is laying in a needle-turned patch of the same base material with the tiniest, most invisible, made by blind Bavarian nuns, stitching and then, getting the damn words right, bless you Beatles.

Relax baby, it's gonna be OK.

ugh and shit

That little badge I've been working on? It took me a week of mulling to decide on the text. Another few days of drawing the letters with my finger before I committed to the gold metallic pen. I was pretty smug about how nicely I fit the words around the perimeter of the design. That should have been a warning.

And in the end, the love you make is equal to the love 

you take.

Did you see the error? Neither did I until I was finished stitching. Sigh.