Making

My sometimes annoying process of iteration. Some call it sampling.

My sometimes annoying process of iteration. Some call it sampling.

I worked on several different making projects this week. I was struck by how much I approached two completely different sorts of projects in the same way. The first was the dye project I talked about last week. The red-orange yarn turned out quite well. I did 22 samples over four days of a color that I had dyed before. In the end, the dye formula I used was the first one—my old tried and true with only two dyes and a toner.*

The final answer was NOT one of those last skeins as I’d hoped in last week’s post, but it was a simple matter of changing the depth of shade slightly before I had it. Matching a color in yarn, including the feeling and depth of that color, isn’t a one-shot deal. Maybe if this had been the yarn I usually dye it could have been, but it was not my yarn. I started by dyeing 8 colors in jars from several different formulas. Some were sort of close, some were not remotely close. In one I inverted the proportion of colors when writing out the formula and ended up with hot pink.

Twelve years. Blog-o-versary

Twelve years. Blog-o-versary

Twelve.

That is the number of years I’ve been writing this blog. I have enjoyed being here every week. I am a natural journaler and to some extent, the blog is an extension of that. I have used it to talk about whatever fiber-related thing was going on in my world—and maybe a few more chickens than you all might have liked. It has also been a place to give you information about tapestry techniques I am asked lots of questions about, and perhaps this is one of its most useful functions. I’ve written posts about looms and sett and yarn and that helps me too because when I get an email asking about one of those things, I can just send you to the blog.*

A tapestry January in photos

A tapestry January in photos

January has come and gone. It was a busy month for me. Here is a tour in photos.

January 1: New Year’s Day. #weaveeveryday

I have no illusions that I as a business-owning, traveling teacher, tapestry weaver will be able to weave every single day of this year. But my intention is to weave as often as I can because even a few minutes of weaving means that my hands and eyes return to the process and little by little, progress is made.

Habits not resolutions: Weave every day.

Habits not resolutions: Weave every day.

Historically speaking, I think we can safely say that I’m rubbish at New Year’s Day resolutions.

I remember a New Year’s Day when I was a pre-teen deciding that I was going to write a letter to someone every single day of the year. This was in the 80s before the internet though I probably had learned to type on my electric typewriter by then. But my resolution was to put pen to paper and hand-write someone a letter. Every. Single. Day.

I made it to January 8th.

As humans we certainly love to make grand promises to ourselves of how we’re going to change our lives starting with this one day which marks a new calendar year. But it is just another day and we are still the same people we were on December 31st (though hopefully a little more sober).

Returning to beginners status

Returning to beginners status

I have some dear friends who made the monumental decision to have a baby. There were medical complications but eventually, the little tyke was conceived and he arrived in the world a month and a half ago now. I love to make things for babies. Cute, soft things that I usually knit. I know that they’re mostly impractical and I assume, though I’m not a mom myself, that frazzled parents really like stuff they can throw in the washing machine.

I was going to knit a beautiful blanket for this kid. I could imagine myself choosing the yarn, casting on, working away. And then I looked at my fall schedule and thought about how I was going to disappoint myself because there was no way I was going to finish the blanket I had in my head before the kid was born.

Then it occurred to me. “I’m a weaver! I could absolutely weave a blanket. I’m sure it would go faster and it would be more baby-friendly.”

I’m not sure why it took me so long to think of that. And in a moment of serendipity, my friends at GIST Yarn happened to send an email about a kit for a baby blanket that same day saving me the trouble of researching yarns and patterns. Bingo, it was ordered in a heartbeat. It arrived a few days later and my head was filled with visions of what a gorgeous blanket I was going to turn out. Because, after all, I’m a weaver and how hard could a plain weave blanket be?. (It is the Echo baby blanket kit and the yarn is lovely.)

Because of Memory

Because of Memory

You may have seen Tommye Scanlin’s tapestry titled “Because of Memory” or heard her talk about the Lillian E. Smith Center in Clayton, GA. It is because of Tommye that I did a two-week residency there a few weeks ago. It is ultimately because of Lillian Smith herself that I could enjoy this time in an artist residency away from the push of running a business at home.

Lillian E. Smith was a formidable woman from what I can tell. She is the author of the novel, Strange Fruit, which was banned for it’s statement about segregation and civil rights of people of color in the US. It was first published in 1944.

I had two weeks in the north Georgia woods at my artist residency. Lillian E. Smith Center is now owned by Piedmont College. But it used to be owned by the Smith family.