Unravelling

Tick. Tick.

2012-02-16T16:25:00.001+13:00

It's always nice to cross things off my To Weave list, but two in one day was great, since it's been a long time since I last crossed anything off that list. I'm talking about Tim's and Mom's cashmere scarves.

Tim's.

Mom's.

Bad:
1) This was the first time I put on cashmere on the big loom. Because the yarn is spongy, it was harder to get a consistent tension; weave more and learn.
2) There is so much loom waste on the big loom, and I wonder if I can be more innovative at the warp beam end to reduce this.
3) Wonky arms, 15 minute increments, no rhythm, makes for even more inconsistent beating, and some dubious selvedges. Let us pray.
4) I remembered I have never learned how to hem ends properly, but learned by looking at other weavers' works and unpicking a couple of them. I must get someone to show me so I can improve; Tim's piece's hemming is something shocking.

Good:
1) Wefts in singles and doubles both work well in different ways. Singles have room to breath and fulls nicely; the resultant scarf is airy and light. Doubled, the scarf has meaty and hangs nicely, like grownup cloth. Interestingly, they both feel as if they weight about the same.
2) The silk in Mom's have a lovely understated shine, but the values of the gray and the burgundy are so close the piece shimmers.

Tag, label, deliver/post. Go watch someone hem and figure out what I'm doing wrong.

Boy, it's good to get pieces finished, though. Both around 8 inches wide; Tim's is around 210cm long, Mom's 180.

Right or Left?

2012-02-15T12:38:00.000+13:00

So, the results.

As you know I didn't learn weaving from a live human being per se; I taught myself from books, and a few then-Majordomo list members helped me. No YouTube back then. I just did what came natural to me; I'm right handed, so I start from the right. But I found this an interesting question to ask, as we never seem to talk about it; do we all assume others do the same as us, or because it doesn't matter one way or another? Any thoughts?

Thank you for participating in the survey!

Waiting for a Sign?

2012-02-14T19:18:00.001+13:00

I vacuumed the basement almost like there is no tomorrow, (first time this year), and cleaned, (first time in about six months,) and waxed, (first time in two years? I heard creaky noises from an unfamiliar direction,) the big loom, while trying to feel, rather than think or plan, the next one. Two sets of yarns have been at the forefront of my thinking: the sewing silks and rayon and nylon sewing machine embroidery threads, OR a set of six reds in cotton, mill ends Mom sent me a few years ago.

I've never woven with either. I can't see what kind of pieces I want to weave.

Meanwhile, Connie Rose sent me a little bit more than a yard! Thank you, Connie. I've already cut off one meter to put into the project; the rest into another piece.

A Gift from the Loom

2012-02-14T12:05:00.002+13:00

I forgot I was confined to weave in 15-minute increments, so I went all guns blazing yesterday, but admit, I haven't had so much fun on the loom in a heck of a long time! And I think I'm not hurting anywhere today.

I'll copy what I wrote on Flicker this morning:

"I love weaving warp ends; they allow me to get a little adventurous because it doesn't matter if they don't work exactly to plan. I see warp end pieces as gifts from the loom to me, almost as if I have nothing to do with them.

"Yesterday I got about 60cm-long by 15cm-wide piece at the end of a series of three cashmere scarves. I thought I could get enough for a collar or two cuffs, and to make it soft yet meaty, I doubled up my weft - outrageous extravagance considering the cost of these yarns, but, boy, oh, boy, it was so worth it. The swatch feels wonderful and since I never weave anything for myself except warp ends, I think I can live with this. Now I want a gray fleece vest so I can put this collar on!

"Today I was going to post a picture of a scarf with heart motifs I wove for my mother on this warp, but I haven't had this much fun on the loom in a while so I decided to go with my ... swatch instead."

First of all, the draft took about 15 minutes to make, not 15 hours.

As with many things I weave, I end up liking the B-side better than A, though with this swatch, I'll take either side quite happily.

Because I liked the heft in Mom's scarf, I doubled the warp also to get the fabric-y feel, but this weft is the same size as the warp and slightly thicker than Mom's, so the swatch really feels like... fabric.

I was so pleased with myself and in a rush to wash this I forgot to mend; as it was the end of the warp there were problems with the shed and I found a few mistakes while I washed. But it's OK, I can live with it; while I sear this swatch in the collar, I won't be able to see the skips!

The Morning After..

2012-02-12T09:13:00.000+13:00

The excitement was too much, all I could do after the last post yesterday was to vegetate on the couch gazing at the TV where there was absolutely nothing. I've too much to do before I go, I kept telling myself, but my body wouldn't move.

And while visualizing me having a great time in Brisbane, (which I know I will,) I couldn't stop the voices saying, "I shouldn't have been so rash!", "The following week would have been better!", "I don’t need 3.5 days in Brisbane!", and "What if it floods there again!"

At least how I'm going to pay for the trip was not at the forefront.

The thing that makes me more nervous is this: we all know I have very few commitments and my calendar most weeks have very little other than the Friday morning drawing class. Well, that week, I have a non-weaving commitment I enjoy every Thursday afternoon; then a cheese-making class Thursday night, (Ben and I do these community education classes perhaps twice a decade.) On Friday I need to be at the airport 25 minutes after the class finishes. I get back Tuesday night, and I'm invited to a farewell morning coffee Wednesday morning, and I was hoping to see a mash up opera on film after that. Then the same commitment Thursday afternoon and drawing Friday morning.

I know some people thrive on being busy; I am so not one of them, and I feel tired already.

One of the biggest issues now should be, my airfare allows me to take one 7kg carry-on bag only, so I'm now going to weigh the extra battery and cards for my camera, sketchbook and one or two pencils, wallet, travel documents, the bag, and the unmentionables!

Oh, Ronette gifted me this link this very morning.

Insane Saturday

2012-02-11T15:46:00.003+13:00

I'd been in a fairly good place these last couple of days, finding quotes and artworks which enrich my life, feeling appreciative and receptive of/to friends, texts and visuals. And even though Ronette made us copy and draw schematic drawing of only eyes for the entire class time, (while I continued to roll my eyes until I was beyond dizzy and thought of 40-odd years ago when we fidgeted and waited for the bell to ring,) I wasn't unhappy. Yip. Even if I were to admit I wove too much on Thursday and for the first hour of class my arms wouldn't stop shaking.

I finished my mom's scarf on Thursday, (doubling the weft makes quick work, I knew it in my head but hadn't realized how quick,) and still have about 120cm of warp left, so I could possibly get 90cm of woven cloth to be used on such areas as collars and cuffs later on. Or a really short thing around the neck, so I'll weave that, and be done with this warp this weekend.

Friday morning when I got up, I thought the idea of continuing to work on "Father, Professor, Patient" (the colorful warp is made,) but in grays was a good idea, but not for the National Exhibition; such a piece wouldn't have the kind of visual impact I had in mind, for the occasion, and in the lovely Millennium Gallery.

I know their ceiling is reasonably high, and the maximum height of artwork they can hang is only 20cm or so shorter than the distance from the bottom of the rafter to the floor at the Refinery. So I had hoped to weave something as long as for the Refinery.

As I brushed my teeth, I started to see the fab sewing silks from Japan, and they wouldn't go away, so I'm now wondering if it means I will work in miniature and forget the high ceiling.

* * * * *

I went to see "Buck" Friday afternoon; he is a real horse whisperer; his quiet, understated, matter-of-fact directness was fresh and rare, and as "Bob" Redford said, he's so polite. I'll hire the DVD so Ben can watch it, too. Perhaps we need to discuss becoming yarn whisperers?

I also received my first meter of yarn from Kaz. Thank you, Kaz - it is the most cheerful, sunny hand-painted warp end I've ever seen, and suddenly this yet-unknown project popped out of my head and started being in this world. Boy, if you've ever given birth, and looked at your child for the first time, it must have been not just thrilling, but also somewhat bewildering?

* * * * *

Ceramic artist (or potter?) Richard Parker's touring exhibition ended at the Suter, but I got the catalog and I was going to have a jolly good read last night. But before that, I wanted to read the bits and pieces of paper and articles I had saved, among them was The NZ Listener article on Matisse's drawing exhibition in Brisbane, Australia, closing on March 4. And it sounded like a "big deal" exhibition.

This morning the first thing I did was to look up the exhibition catalog, and wondered what I could give up to buy it. I sold one small scarf last month, and I'm told a big piece is about to be sold, and I've been feeling rather well-off, you see. (I sold all of three pieces in April 2010-March 2011.) I don't know what came over me, but suddenly I found myself looking up airfares and signing up for an electronic visitor visa into Australia. Long story short, I'm going to the exhibition, in Brisbane, Australia; the cost of the trip so far turned out to be about 150% more than I calculated, (so many, many more scarves to weave and sell,) but considering I've liked Matisse (and especially his rendition of textiles and his family history) for a long time; considering I'm starting to have an understanding of why and what I like to draw; and considering it is cheaper than to go to Europe, the US, or even Japan, somehow I've justified it, and booked and paid with credit card.

Although I'm not going for two more weeks, this is the most spontaneous thing I have ever done that I remember, and I felt dizzy, shaky, a little sick, and irresponsible, but I know I'll enjoy it. It also means I'm cutting five days out of the time I could be working on my National Exhibition piece, but I'll manage. I hope I can manage.

I need to slow down now. I've fond a lot of things I need to reflect on and contemplate these few days. I don't want to miss anything.

"Time/Arc" Brooches

2012-02-10T19:39:00.002+13:00

Sometimes I encounter quiet wisdom of other makers and discover even I can fall silent in contemplation. I had such a moment today, so I'll let you soak it in, too.

Gavin Hitchings is the Artist in Focus at the Suter this month.

Keeping Company With...

2012-02-08T17:20:00.000+13:00

A whole bunch of voices, downloaded, intended to listen to later and gathering like fluff on my hard-drive floor, among them, an Audible interview with Lemony Snicket, all the while trying to quieten what seemed like mounting anxiety.

Working on the loom in the basement helps, even if much too long for the wonky arm. It's almost impossible to control the beating with a wonky arm so these two cashmeres are going to be wonkily beaten.

I finished Tim's scarf yesterday and have been weaving Mom's. Many of the "weaver" comportments had to be taken out, but I have retained the shuttles, the plain weave cloths, and the requested hearts.

Here's what the draft looks like, though this could have many iterations and utilized for towel swap and such occasions.

And the cloth on the loom, which is much darker and bluer, but you get the gist.

This turned out to be another "live" experiment: I didn't want the hearts to be flattened, but instead of elongating the hears in the draft, I wound a skinner weft in doubles; not plied but two strands together. It lifts the design and gives a hefty thickness moving away from scarf and towards cloth, and since I haven't sampled, I don't know what the warp is going to be like when fulled. But Mama is always complaining of the cold, so it should be alright, even if it won't be as soft as what we've come to expect from our cashmeres.

I shall weave a long one, and then have less than one scarf left on the loom, so I'll cut the warp and move on to the National Exhibition piece, whatever that may be.

And as regards anxiety, I can't not have it, I can't control it that well, but I've learned to not act on them immediately as most seem to be just my perception.

Had You Noticed?

2012-02-06T23:53:00.000+13:00

Depending on where your IP address is registered, blogger redirects you to MegWeaves.blogspot.com, MegWeaves.blogspot.co.nz or MegWeaves.blogspot.com.au that I've discovered so far. Editing my own blog, also, I've not got that tiny pencil at the bottom of my post for quick editing. A bit strange; Ben says he noticed it last week.

End of Monday

2012-02-06T18:34:00.001+13:00

The good news is, I have 20cm to go on Tim's scarf, so if I'm hasty I could finish it tomorrow. The bad news is, at this point it looks as if there is more than one scarf left on the warp, so even if I make Mama's Weaver's Scarf a bit long, there might even be one more scarf!! Crikey!

Group R met again today, and we had a focused discussion on the format and size of our one joint piece. We had a format in mind, but I kind of lead the discussion to explore many formats before we went back to the original idea, and I don't know about the others but I enjoyed the discussion and the immediate, rather than the considered, reaction of the others. I'll tell you more about it when I start working on my part of it.

I reported to the group where I was with the "Professor, Father, Patient" piece. This is not for our Beginnings exhibition but rather for submission for Changing Threads, (photo due Feb 17; work due March 14,) or the National Exhibition in Blenheim, (paperwork due March 1; work due March 12). And we sort of settled on Option C (the green fade-out option) for the left side of the weft, to show off the weave structure. But the problem is, I need to submit this to Changing Threads, because it's not the sort of work one submits to the National Exhibition of the the NZ Guild. I mean, I'm going to include deliberate threading and weaving mistakes, I might pull out warps and wefts after I weave, and who knows what else I'll think of doing. If my best foot forward with a tight weave a few years ago was rejected for "too many technical mistakes", even though the selectors will be different for the Blenheim exhibition, I can imagine a few ladies from the Blenheim having bad palpitations if I send them something that should be in Changing Threads! So now the plan is for me to keep calm and weave the cashmere scarves on the big loom, and come, say, middle of next week, I think I'm going to have to officially give up on Changing Threads this year and concentrate on the National Exhibition. (Goodness, that was a long paragraph but can you tell I'm thinking as I type? So if you've never met me in person you can at least imagine how I talk sometimes when I get excited about a project can't you?)

I wanted to submit something to Changing Threads this year, if nothing else, as a hats-off to Ronnie Martin who gives me a lot of advice and who's idea CT was in the first place, but the more I think, the saner it is for me to give it up now and concentrate on weaving something lovely for the National Exhibition. Especially since I am more used to that kind of work. I'll be (and, well, Ronnie,) the only one not having had work in Changing Threads, but that's OK; I"m not worried about that.

But, the funny thing is, the colorful warp has grown on me, so I still might go downstairs and make the left side of the warp tonight. Just bringing it up to where I can start thinking about that project, whether I actually do it or not. And it might be something that might go into Beginnings.

Oh, and we didn't do the personal color thing. The topic came up, but either someone read my blog, or others weren't that interested, or something else. To tell the truth, if push came to shove, I was going to do it; our group does have that kind of a dynamic, but I'm still relieved we didn't go that way. We did a bit of non-dominant-hand drawing, blind contours, and some emotions drawing.

Goodness me, does this mean I'm really not going to submit anything to Changing Threads??? I do feel a little sad now.

Real Albeit Tiny Progress

2012-02-04T21:32:00.000+13:00

"Professor, Father, Patient" continues to morph in my head, but I'm glad part of it is finally out of my head and in the real world.

I knew what I didn't want, and that I still wanted to use weave structures as my main means of expression. I also decided to use what remains of a warp I made for an exhibition in October 2007 called "Culturally Routed". (Some pictures here, here, here, and here. I had to take it off after weaving as much as I could for submission, then put on another for a commission, from memory. I decided against good judgment I'm not rereading post related to the Giant Ribbon as I find that act more embarrassing than listening to my own voice on tapes. Irresponsible, I know, but I'm running with it - or away from them.)

Suffice it to say, it's a shiny, coarse, relatively fine wool that is visible from reasonably afar, remains relatively stiff, and relatively fussy structures can be made, and I have a few colors of it left.

But I wanted to widen it, and at first I thought to add browns on the right, with a few ends of aqua and purple, and yellows on the left with a few in-your-face peach-pink ends.

When I went downstairs on Wednesday, I made the yellow side first, which went well. I didn't count, I didn't plan, I just spread the original and additional warps once in a while to see if it looked... nice. Then I worked on the right side, and I felt there was not enough strength to counter balance the saturated yellow on the right, and created a pretty wide aqua area, and then kind of fizzled out with the browns. The photo below was taken Thursday morning, and I can tell you in the afternoon, the most saturated part of yellow is more brilliant than seen here. Anyway, A is what I had at the end of Wednesday, and I didn't like it.

Came Thursday morning, and I felt I had three choices; I could keep the aqua and add more of the middle, gold-brown, (kind of visible if you enlarge the photo,) and some of the two on the sides; I could take out the aqua and add browns or not, B, pretty much the original plan; or I could take out the lot and make the warp more symmetrical and fade out, using greens, C.

The problem is, (or is it?) I have very little of the darkest green left, so I can't make it more similar to the yellow side; I feel most comfortable with C, and that whatever irregularities I create in the weave structure can be seen more easily with C or B. I also am reminded that this no-planning is really hit or miss, and when it misses, a complete do-over becomes necessary.

I don't know yet what kind of threading or lifting I'm pretty sure I'm going to include deliberate threading and weaving mistakes, and the weave structure will morph from simple to more complicated in perhaps three to five steps, returning to the initial simple step almost abruptly at the bottom. Or should I see his birth at the bottom and now at the top? And then I started to think weaving this in fine achromatic, dull gray would also be very interesting.

Unless I can empty the big loom of the current warp, I'm not getting anywhere , though, and to date, to the hour, I've got 135cm of Tim's scarf woven.

Who AM I Kidding?

2012-02-04T14:11:00.002+13:00

I got so frustrated after two bits of 15+ minutes of weaving, I went ahead and finished the repeat and then did one whole repeat totaling in 40 minutes Thursday night, and boy, I knew I done myself wrong! Then Ronette's drawing resumed yesterday, (she's looking great after the big surgery three months ago,) and I really wanted to draw the 10-minute sitting with my left hand to make abrupt, unintended lines.

Let's just say, to make the most my foreigner's English, "pins and needles in the coffin". But it's fantabugroovilicious to be back in her class, and I had noticed that three years on, certain types of drawing have finally become easy and emotionally everyday for me.

* * * * *

I have been noticing I've been putting on even more weight since I've come back, and I'm seriously afraid of getting on the scale. I never developed a waist, so my equatorial region remained pretty much the same between Age 0.5 to mid/late 40's, with the gradual addition of a couple of bumps above. Gradually all three have succumbed to gravity, and I have become a member of a particular shape.

That my parents have told me, in unison, when I was nine or ten, I would never be conventionally pretty, but I could work towards looking intelligent, that my dad cannot stop talking about my weight, that my mother has been dismayed at the way I don't try to dress nicely has no doubt contributed to my wanting to be a virtual person sans casing. In my defense, gym staff, doctors and nutritionists have not been able to figure out why my intake/output/remaining mass is so badly balanced; I'm so green and energy efficient the only consolation is, if there is a famine, I'll be one of the last to go.

Here's a scene that crops up in my mind from time to time; the thing is, I used to see it as the origin of my not being hostage to brands, labels and fashions of many kinds, (brands in Japan have always baffled me,) but with my mother's insistence that I'm simply lazy about looking nice has changed my view.

In the fifth year of school, when one is between 10 and 11, my convent school had the tradition of hosting the first overnight trip. (There may have been one a year until we graduated at 17 or 18.) It took part in early summer for five or six nights, staying somewhere cool in the mountains, hiking, visiting historical sites, cooking outside, and the favorite, the last night's big camp fire. From what I understand of American kids' summer camps, it's close but a bit upmarket, no craft, more being bussed around for educational purposes.

The school being a strict convent school, we had strict lists of what we could and very specifically could not bring, and strict criteria on how "fashionable" or "common" our belongings could be, i.e. no Snoopy, Disney, or Miffy, and I don't think Hello Kitty existed. Mama and I blindly followed the rules, Mama having gone to a sister school and understanding the aesthetics and values the nuns expected. So the night before the trip, she worked into the wee hours sewing me JPs. I don't remember if I was involved in the selection, but it was blue-gray cotton with tiny white stars in the conventional shirt top unisex style, perfect for a rugged week in the cool mountains.

Unbeknownst to us, friends and their mothers had different ideas and it was in the PJs they invested their identities; most were store-bought, but there were lots of frills, ribbons and laces, in pinks, reds and whites. One girl in particular, (not an academically successful student but great on the piano, a quality given equal kudos in my school,) was the talk of the camp with her frilly, three-quarter length set with lady bugs (crawling) all over. It was also my first brush with a mass prepubescent hysteria. To make matters worse, I was one of the first to start menstruating in my year, three months before the camp.

Rules dictated we were not allowed to brush our teeth or wash our faces before 6 or 6.30AM, but long before that we congregated around the loo waiting for our turns; I of course was scheduled to have my period about then, so I had a wee case with my "thing", and of course the meanest nun spotted me in seconds and balled me out. And I could not say anything because it was more embarrassing then to admit to having periods than to be balled out in front of one's entire year.

I was the girl in the least conspicuous of PJs, (or so I thought,) and I felt a big yellow star burn on my chest. Sincerely, no offense intended; it's just how I felt, possibly because the style of my PJs reminded me of the countless docos I watched with Dad. I heard my classmates' silent collective gasp and sensed their imperceptible retreat creating that declaratory gap around The One In Trouble.

At once I hated Mama for making me look so opposite of good and nice; I hated myself for not loving anything Mama made; I hated having periods as if that were another vice nuns had on their checklists; and I hated everyone for loving NN's PJs, because it really wasn't that cute. Worst of all, I could see my parents reprimanding me, in unison, "they are them, we are us." Goodness me, I can still imagine Mama's quick dismissal and Dad just unable to let go of my weakness in character.

So, where am I going with this? Well, Monday is our next Group R meeting, and there is a chance we'll do this thing about personal colors; not the fun 80's stuff, but apparently figuring out colors that suit based on colors existing on one's own body. (No, absolutely no rude stuff.) With a supersized body image issues, in the company of four white women, one a svelte 20-something Scandinavian, if the Group thinks we're going to discuss body part colors, I'm so torn in two over-disucssing the pros in cons in my head.

You could say I've kinda been holding my breath these few days and turning purple or blue-gray with small white starts all over.

EDIT: again, no offense intended by "white" women. I sat on this post for three days wondering what term to use. In NZ, there is a word, "Pakeha", but some folks in that group think it's derogatory and the rest of you wouldn't know who they are; to me, "European" excludes American, Canadian, Australian, Kiwi so it doesn't work here; and neither does "Caucasian" because nobody I know come from Caucasus. And I sure wasn't going to say, "women of European descents"; goodness me, that's a mouthful. Words to denote ethnicity is somewhat a touchy issue in Kiwiland, it seems, especially for, um, this group.

Which reminds me of an incident at university; I had a wisdom tooth that inflamed suddenly and something like four or six hours later after I started to get an eye-watering headache, I could not open my mouth wide enough to stick a straw. None of my friends had cars, so two of the boys went knocking on the door of an Iranian student living on the same floor of their dorm. Said student was a nice guy anyway, but he, ummmmm, interrupted an amicable Sunday afternoon with a lady, threw on some clothes, and drove us to the emergency dental clinic. On our way home, he reminded me we're both Asians and I wasn't even to worry about gas money. I never saw folks from the Middle East as fellow Asians until then, but I got warm feelings all over, and that was the start of my being friendly with a whole bunch of folks from the very dry lands.

The tooth: because I was sipping on fast food milk shakes all day, they couldn't put me under, so the three boys took me back on Monday for the deed.

Not Bad for One Afternoon

2012-02-01T20:21:00.002+13:00

Last night I was shocked to discover it'd been one week since I finished my taxes and I haven't done much work. I've thought a little, I've drawn a tiny bit, and I looked at a warp, but I hadn't done anything. So this afternoon, I went downstairs and:

1) Tried to dye one last batch with the walnut husk solution, only to find it had mildewed in the recent heat! So I washed the urn, scrubbed it, rinsed it, then boiled clean water for a while to make sure it's clean and safe to store.

2) I focused on my priorities: I'm only halfway through with the invisible Log Cabin but I finally started weaving Tim's scarf. I have to free the big loom if I'm to do anything to exhibit. It'd been so long since I sampled and I couldn't make sense of my notes, but after one false start, I can weave roughly 21cm in one sitting of 15-20 minutes, so it'll take nine more sittings. Then there is Mama's scarf to go. I really don't want to take off this warp only to have to put it back on later, so I'll keep going.

3) I worked a little bit on "Professor, Father, Patient". I need to do some reading before I can tell you about this one.

But it feels so good to be back on the loom bench.

Send Me Some Yarn

2012-02-01T00:00:00.039+13:00

Yes, seriously. Please. It goes something like this.

Two years ago when I first conceived of a solo show called "What You See Is What You Get", one of the things I knew I would like to do was to have a wall filled with colorful A4 or A5 sheets of paper printed with what you would have sent me: a photo of your work, a photo of you if you like, one or two paragraphs of your musings on handweaving, your name, and your blog url. Among other things, I wanted to appeal to the skeptics that friends on the Internet are as real, valuable, and beneficial as in-person ones.

But now that WYSIWYG has turned into a group exhibition, and I feel as though it has been taken over by those more experienced with exhibitions, (not a bad thing necessarily,) I've been thinking how I could incorporate/drag all of you in my part of the exhibition.

I'd like to ask you for one meter/one yard (and no more) of yarn/thread; it can be a yarn that best represents you, that you like the best, or a leftover from your last project. Or something stuck on the back of your slippers. I'd like to incorporate all of them into one piece, and energy and sanity permitting, I don't want to "just" use them as wefts in a plain weave wall hanging, but hope to weave something a bit more considered. Maybe include the envelope/packaging in the piece.

So, will you?

Please send me one meter/one yard of yarn. Please mail/post them to:

Meg Nakagawa
PO Box 1752
Nelson7040
New Zealand

between now and June 30, 2012.

At this time, all I can think of in return is I shall list your name, (of preference if you prefer not to use your real name,) in the title card that goes on the wall. Thank you for your help in advance.

* * * * *

Thank you, Kaz Madigan, Curious Weaver.

Thank you, Connie Rose, Constance Rose: Textiles and Mixed Media.

Tiny Project - January

2012-01-31T12:00:00.010+13:00

I'm relieved I didn't show you a month's worth of lettuce patch photos this year. What was I thinking! This was the tiny project I undertook in January.

While at home, Mama and I started writing on tiny notebooks something that may (or may not) help us later with our weaving; seeds of inspirations, you could say. Though I started out with gusto, on the subject of "artifacts", (four pages at the start of the notebook,) as we got busier with Dad, mine fell way by the wayside until I was on the bus heading to the airport to come back. Not wanting to forfeit the comfortable bond of writing into similar notebooks, I concocted a tiny assignment for myself for this month, something I knew I could absolutely commit to.

I enjoyed the absence of responsibility as a result of this; it was just one thing a day of something I may or may not want to revisit. Among these, though, I would consider spending some time thinking about.

Japan - Part 12: Loot

2012-01-27T08:56:00.000+13:00

Or, gazillion reasons why I don't need to shop!

Books on design and Japanese culture, (some I bought for 1 yen plus shipping,) one fab memoir by picture book artist Anno Mitsumasa, three booklets on Oribe-yaki pottery, one how-to book, patterns for simple bags for children; I have a few of these, but this book had illustrations of some parts I find tricky.

There are two lots of strange, stringy, papery silk yarns towards the front left; I forgot the story on these, but Mama should remember. Not the kind of thing I would normally rescue or contemplate using, but Pat in Group R is making leaps and bounds on her thinking and making, and that I even looked at these tells me her energy pushing me.

The blue skein in the front has a story: Mama bought it, along with the purple variegated, and a whole bunch of similar silks, from a kimono weaver who comes to a craft market in Yokohama every year. But she couldn't stand the screaming, in-your-face aqua blue variegation, so first we dedyed portions of the skein using bleach in a spray bottle. That got us nowhere, so we put some bleach in a tub of water, didn't mix it much, dropped the skein and left it for a while. I also sprayed some areas additionally later. Anyway, it became a kind of strong aqua with a few pale bits; Mama thought it's tolerable; I wasn't sure. But I wanted to put it on the 16-shaft and create swirly or fussy shapes, so brought it back.

Without knowing I've been into golds and dirty yellows and oranges, (which originates in Mama's love for brick oranges anyway,) Mama also had three or four or five golds and dirty yellows of the same silk, and I had intended to pinch some of each to use as wefts, but I forgot. But I have enough gold and dirty yellows I'll manage.

I might still do something with the color before I make the warp, though. Just wondering...

Almost the Weekend

2012-01-26T18:04:00.001+13:00

Tons to tell you!!

Finished tax return work after 7PM Tuesday; task definitely takes longer now I have to download invoices; not sure if saving the forest and opting out of paper bills is good for my soul. Still, done and dusted and once again vowed not to waste money buying stuff: it saves $, it saves space from clutter, and most importantly I save fewer receipts that needs scrutiny.

Came Wednesday; ran errands; went to The Suter to see three fab ceramics exhibitions; (I do like craft exhibitions better than "art"; must return to enjoy it more throughly;) want catalogs to both exhibitions, one rather expensive; then remembered another book I want badly. Then I went to the library and got my hands on India Flint's new book, "Second Skin". Good God...

Beautiful, well-written, but also big and heavy and I'm too clumsy to read it comfortably; it's the kind of book you want to take on a holiday and not do anything else but read it, OR, be transported to a holiday but making time to read it in peace. More dedicated fans may clean out the closet and reorganize life; I'll clean my closet, at least, and dye the cottons I prepared for India's workshop in 2010 which I had to bow out because both cars needed urgent attention a month prior. Confronted by body size/image issues vs wanting to learn to make patterns and sew better; reminded of a talk Mama had with me about how I'm lazy about looking nice and respectable. That's for a whole other post; way, way too loaded, eh.

Recommend reading the words and considering the issues, not just gazing at the pictures. Surely I am not the only one? And yes, the oft-mentioned Jo Kinross is our own Group R's Jo. Vicarious fame; at this rate, including Jo's name in my posts will become name-dropping!

Had an overnight house guest, Kate. (We don't have a guest room, so she toughs out on the living room floor, bless her.) Every time she leaves, I'm left with a sack full of seeds for thought. Annoying, but exhilarating.

TAFA website is updated; click on the picture. If you sell your work and have a blog and/or Facebook Page and/or Flickr and/or especially Etsy promoting your work, you should consider signing up by contacting Rachel Biel. She takes good care of you.

Having to update my TAFA profile was part of why I had a rethink about photos and images and such. I've also had a good talk with Andrea from The Suter Store, and decided I don't want to make any more simple-structure/easy-to-weave pieces to sell; I want to up my game and spend longer time with each piece. More artist-like, if you please.

I think many of us thought we could sell a bit of work around the World Cup time, and it turned out retail in general, not just art, did badly anyway. I wove an awfully lot of Log Cabins, (and I still have the last warp on the 4-shaft Jack), but I find the "bread and butter" range demoralizing. I feel they don't represent the kind of pieces I like/want to weave. And though Andrea is too polite, I think she doesn't want any more of those pieces. So a goal for the rest of 2012: no more b&b "merchandises" after the current warp. With the wonky arm and the two exhibitions coming up, I may not have any time for them anyway.

Another problem is NZ prices and exchange rate. London, Honolulu and Tokyo have always been considered some of the most expensive places on earth; this time around I didn't feel Yokohama, (included in the greater Tokyo when it comes to economics, if not more expensive than,) was any more expensive than Nelson. And that's saying something. So not only do I have to rethink the type of things I want to weave, but the prices, too, if I want to Etsy. But then buying NZ yarns, I'll really be slave-laboring.

Good grief! Still, tomorrow is another "making" day! And we've a long weekend coming up.

Favs

2012-01-23T11:08:00.000+13:00

Early-Morning-Basement pictures; they look so blue, but I concentrated on the colors of the yarns, so please excuse me/them.

Read before you become unduly impressed. Mama bought four (or five?) colors of tweedy wool some years ago. They labels read A: Charcoal, B: Light Gray, C: Mid Gray or Light Beige, D: Brown. They are somewhat rough to the touch, so I was thinking of vest or skirt fabric. There was a wee problem: there were two balls of each color and four of C, two of which had said Mid Gray and two other Light Beige, except we couldn't tell them apart. For two weeks, we had them at different parts of the house and looked at them at different times of the day, but neither Ben nor I could tell the difference. Ben though they got slightly different (in their minds) colors in different dye lots so they called them different names, but these yarns come from a huge mill in Japan, so I would have thought they would have better quality control. Who knows.

A is a lovely dark charcoal gray, without the hint of pink/red I see in this photo, whereas D is a delicious hot-choc without the sickly green; B to C look pretty accurate on my screen. Lower case letters indicate yarns I dyed, the original being the counterpart in Capitals.

The interesting thing is, sometimes the walnut solution took on a hint of green when I dyed gray yarns, but not always. In some cases it worked, in case of b, it became a sickly unattractive mess, almost military. After tentative washing and squeezing, the yarn's texture improved; they are probably nice enough for outdoorsy wraps, for example, (think Helen Mirren walking the dogs as The Queen;) or something folksy in a log-cabin cabin, not the structure necessarily.

My fav, I think. Again the photograph looks a little sickly, but the yarn colors on my screen look close, the original gray color at far right. In the evening, under the right light, this color can look like dark mid-silver, a sedate, non-abrasive, mature color, if slightly darker, it is called "oxidized silver" in Japan. In daylight, it is pale and pinky and tries too hard to be a grownup color. Again, I have no idea how I got grays in some cases, but they most definitely have green hues. The second greeny-gray, Medusa, I realized is sometimes referred to in Japanese as "sewage rat gray"!! Towards the brown/red end, the balls are yummy tea-with-milk browns, with the red hue being more noticeable.

Now that I have this many, I have to think carefully so I can make the most of the variety.

I started to discard the remaining solutions, but it still felt ever so slightly muddy, so I put it back in the urn. I might try smaller skeins of the second yarn. Or undyed skinny merinos.

Weekend!

2012-01-21T11:34:00.000+13:00

It appears even Blogger got sick of me talking about tax returns, it is not allowing me to hear back from you, on Thursday (Cally) and Friday (Connie). Or not? Dot could on Saturday; perhaps Blogger recognizes weekends, though everyday is like the weekend for me; I know this after Seven Weeks Hard Labor.

I have been doing my tax work, three afternoons this week, (OK, short durations within three afternoons.) I am flummoxed at/by the time required to uncover printable invoices in the darkness that is websites. There must be a law in New Zealand that dictates every website must have a different and unexpected way to hide such invoices, and the more confusing, the bigger tax break, because us stupid tax payers won't attach evidences and the government can come after us and penalize us.

:-)

And then in some instances I need to go into my PayPal/credit card history, where I discover, every year around this time, some financial institutions don't keep records for very long! And there is no conspiracy?

After I got sick talking to help center staff of various establishments, I played some more with the dye. The current lot will be the very last; the pillow case was ceremoniously taken out of the urn and the husks distributed under a cherry tree yesterday afternoon. Goodness, I had a good go of it; 39 skeins of different sizes and yarns, and three narrow warps. In this last lot are my favorite yarns and I'll post them in a day or two, but here are some unfavorites dyed this week.

Rescued cashmere from Mama's stash. I didn't like the original color (far left and slightly bluer in the photo but close), which is either a pale, mature, sophisticated peachy beige, or the color of a car-sick child. I didn't care for the color so I noted there were six balls and stuck them a box some years ago. I came doing something else last week, and though I could only improve them. The first two balls came out a slightly yellower light/mid-gray-brown, (in the middle;) the second two a slightly brown version of the original, (right.) I thought the three colors would look good together so I left two balls undyed.

What I discovered while handling the yarn was, this is not 100% cashmere nor cash/silk mix I am familiar with from this source; this is a cashmere/wool/angora/polyester mix, single, in size Awfully-Skinny, and angora flies all over and contaminates the dye bath. (I picked out the angora hair form two other skeins of wool, and scooped them out of the dye bath with a net.) If I have the patience to weave with this yarn in both directions, it will make a light, lacy, almost-angelic texture reminiscent of some pieces Mama brought back from India. But it breaks, eh. And it is dusty to handle. So, though I'm not displeased with the colors, on to the back burner they go.

Wool of unknown origin, pretty horrible to handle, but has a more-than-subtle sheen. Again, the result is not very saturated for undyed wool, and this one is an unattractive straw yellow-brown; back of back burner. Or, to tie sticks and reeds while I prepare a loom?

On another note, the loving patch-up I did on the umbrella/swift didn't last long. I've since mended it twice, but I need a harder metal to hold the two bits together. I'm thinking of taking it to the bead shop and see if any of the tiny metal rings would fit, and hold.

Now I must coerce B to stack some of the firewood to make space for another load coming in 10 days.

Enjoy your weekend, lovely people.

A Broken Joint

2012-01-19T10:48:00.001+13:00

Symptom

Cause

A healthy joint

Treatment

And a color-coordinated kiss.

EDIT: At around midday my time, Thursday, Cally said:

"Blogger is refusing to let me post a comment on your blog! I have entered about 20 different verification whatsits so far and have lost patience with it. Also, it's time for bed. But is it just me?"

So sorry, anyone else having problems? I haven't changed anything.

Please Forgive Me for Being a Hypocrite

2012-01-18T14:58:00.001+13:00

I love photos and pictures and drawings on your blogs, but I can go on a bit (??) with only words on mine. I'm a such a hypocrite but my blog, for me, is also a diary, to which I frequently refer not only in trying to remember what, when or how I did something, (almost a proof that I don't sit around and do nothing all the time,) but to ascertain accurate dates for tax return purposes, also.) My peripheral vision caught a not-so polite word, "blogarrhea" on Facebook yesterday, and while I prefer to call what I do "cognitive discharge", I see not a lot of difference in the two. And, oh, yes, I took it personally.

So, here's the Invisiblest Log Cabin in the world, so far. The problem is, I put in medium-dark and medium-light navy in the warp and medium and medium-light purple in the weft. Doh! Usually there is that magical time of late afternoon and the magical angle from which I can see the squares and rectangles, but this one, nada. Today was the fourth time I've tried photographing this and still, nada.

This is the first of five from this warp, but seeing as it will take 5-10 days to weave one scarf, after I'm done with this piece, I shall proceed to the Big Loom with Tim's, (belated 50th birthday, due 38 months ago,) and Mama's so I can free up the loom to weave whatever loony, I mean, loomy things I need for the two exhibitions.

I have finally started, I think I'm qualified to say, on my tax return work. I have slacked off on Carla Sonheim drawings after a cruisey first couple of days, but I hope to return to it. Ronette resumes figure drawing class on February 3, and I have paid and secured my place. Though my walnut husk solution finally started to look a bit tired, I think I can get a couple of more pale brown lots from it. First of two loads of firewood was delivered this morning; I am not stacking even one piece of it. And thank you for reading these not very insightful words. I shall now return to shuffling receipts and old envelopes and dried/discolored Post-It bits.

Idea for a "Conceptual" Piece

2012-01-17T10:25:00.001+13:00

This is an idea for submission to Changing Threads exhibition, due in a month from today. First off, I have to tell you my family has a pragmatic approach to death, so if I sound callous, you'll have to excuse me. There were a lot of deaths, all natural but sudden, in my extended family throughout my youth, and my parents were between 10-ish and 18-ish during WWII, so death was something that always existed alongside life. (Incidentally, in one of his CDs, Israel Kamakawiwo'ole said something similar about the Hawaiian culture.)

Everyone I've ever known who have passed on died illnesses, in hospitals or hospices, suddenly or after a short illness, but they all had normal lives right up until then. So when I realized Dad was very not-OK and could not live without assistance, and yet not exactly ill in the sense a doctor could administer drugs or procedures to "fix" him, I realized for the first time there was another kind of death, that of slowly loosing previously-normal abilities and gradually fading away. That's what aging means. (All the health complaints I've had this side of 30 and 40 and especially 50, I now know, is a natural progression and by extrapolating the decline, I will get to where my folks are now.) I guess un/sub-consciously I began to visualize this part of Dad's life as the bottom of an unravelling cloth, with bits and pieces of warps and wefts of different sizes hanging loosely or trying to stay with the still in-tact part of the cloth. And lots of browns.

But his live wasn't always like this, and I tried to see the top of that cloth, which must have started with his birth, simple, tightly woven and structured, in orange-red, the Chinese happy color. That's followed by the various events in his life that I know of, and don't know of, popping up sporadically in the vastness of mundane, everyday life, many, many bits forgotten or remembered incorrectly. A long and vertical timeline.

Parts are narrower, parts are wider; parts are more brilliant than others, but mostly orderly, and somewhat predictable. So, perhaps a leaf-shape.

But Dad's work, which was his true love, hit a boom late in his life, a decade starting at 62 until retirement. (Oh, gee, I don't know when exactly he retired!) So perhaps an elongated (because he is 84 now) no garlic or onion, with few roots hanging from the bottom.

I want to make it long so that the top is so high you really can't see the details but the colors are saturated there is no mistake there's lots happening up there. But the mundane and the forgotten, this is where Jo's idea of gaps, of unwoven warp sections, work well, I feel.

This is as far as I got. I don't know if I'll use material other than regular wool/cotton yarns. I don't know if I'll embellish/distress the cloth afterwards, but I am tempted to take a blow torch for one of his experiences. I don't know if I want to keep the width universal or variable, but I am keen to pull out some warps and wefts afterwards. To tell you the truth, I don't want to make it too "arty" because that is not me, and that is so not him, but I do still want to make it an interesting piece to look at, and I don't know if I can differentiate it from "another one of those hangy things".

I have a working title of "Professor, Father, Patient", because these three seem to be the significant assignments he took up. He was an avid traveler, too, later in his life, but I haven't decided if/how to work that in; he was the kind of traveler who loved marking routes on the map; the more cities, the more mileage he covered, the happier, which is different from the kind of travels Ben and I, and for that matter Mama, enjoy.

Having written this much, recently I've become more and more comfortable with being a maker of "just" pretty things. (And that word "just" could have gone into so many different places in the previous sentence.) Yesterday during the meeting, I couldn't be bothered with "What is Art" discussion. I'd like my piece to be selected for shows, but if what I make may not be deemed art, but "mere" craft, I'm not fussed. And the thought liberates me to concentrate on what I make. Which is about time.

So the most difficult part of this project is going to be how far outside my usual aesthetic I want to venture; how graphically I want to depict Dad's life.

The Good, The Bad, and The Brilliant

2012-01-16T18:57:00.000+13:00

Because of the title of the post, I'm going to be all over, but there we are.

The Good: we had our Group R meeting today, and everybody except Ronnie brought it along. (Ronnie's is buried in her garden for the time being.) This is Pat's; isn't it pretty? It's on her woven silk, but I love the harmony of the colors she piled on it without intention.

The Bad: the walnut husk dye continues. I got all this from one ball of charcoal gray wool. I tried photographing this group many times, but the true colors won't show, so you have to trust what I say. First off it's a darker collection than the photo suggests; the warp chain, far right, you might call black. The original charcoal gray can be seen in the undyed part in the warp chain, but it was darker in real life. Dyeing turned it into a very soft black, like a warm, balmy evening when you can hear neighbors talking quietly on their porch swing if you listened. I liked this result so much I made two more skeins to try to get soft-dark charcoal, (the two in the middle), but they didn't turn as dark as I hoped. One is slightly darker than the other.

Then I thought I would like to use up the rest of the ball and make two more skeins, fake-Ikat like the warp. This time I planned the placement and sizes of the retardant carefully and tied much tighter than before; I also wanted the dyed part to be as black as the warp.

Well!!

The gray isn't dark, almost the same as the previous two skeins, depending on the light, and the pigments went right though the cotton ties, even though I used the same cottons, just in different colors. I'm not disappointed in as much as this makes more sense than the freak success of the warp fake-Ikat, but I am disappointed because I spent so much time preparing and I had wonderful pictures of fake warp- and weft-wise Ikat quietly creating a random and unexpected piece end result.

Darn,

Just in case you were curious, I have a pillowcase full of walnut husks picked up from the ground last autumn and subsequently air-dried. The pillowcase has sat in hot water since the start of this round of dye experiments, sometime late last year. My dye solution has fundamentally stayed the same, except on two occasions I added more water. No chemical has been added intentionally, though there must be trace amounts of kitchen detergent, (from washing and preparing the wool,) and cheap white vinegar, (used in the final rinsing of wool; on two occasions, after the final rinse, I've thrown the skeins right back into the urn.) As I say, mine is the crudest form of dyeing you can imagine.

The Brilliant. Back to Group R. Changing Threads paperwork is due February 17; National Guild exhibition, March 1. And I can weave only 15 minutes at a time, maybe up to three times a day, and since I have wanted to weave big. I've had an idea for Chanting Threads, (in another post, as I have to gather my thoughts before I can explain,) but had convinced myself it has to go on the same warp as the National Guild piece to save time, and some thinking was required to make the warp work for both. Will I have time for both?

Jo suggested I work into the piece the fact that I can only weave for 15 minutes at a time: weave, advance warp, weave, so there are bands of woven parts and length of warp left unwoven in between.

That is such and out-there idea for my making that normally I would reject it right away, but I've become quite receptive to ideas thrown around in Group R meetings, and in this instance, it works so well with the theme. Brilliant. (Say it out loud like a English teenager - think Ron in Harry Potter.) Changing Threads being more conceptual than the National Guild exhibition, I feel OK about me doing this. I just need to work out the details, specifics, including how tight/untidy I want to make the woven parts. Not just a pretty face, our Jo. I almost wanted to come straight home and start working out the details. And now I don't think the two submission pieces need to be on the same warp. Maybe.

So, a good day. I think.

Have you Ever...

2012-01-16T10:00:00.003+13:00

Seen prettier blues and blue grays, or sexier mid-gray enhanced by brick orange? I am speechless. I know a couple others will be, too. Courtesy of Fabrizio Zanelli of Torino Daily Photo.

Me, Me, Me

2012-01-15T10:41:00.000+13:00

Carla Sonheim once wrote: "Those of you who know me are wondering, 'How the heck is Carla going to be able to afford a month in India?!!' Answer: I’m not sure exactly, (but am relying on the words of R. Buckminster Fuller — and it bears repeating: 'You can rest assured that if you devote your time and attention to the highest advantage of others, the Universe will support you, always and only in the nick of time.)

And though my interpretation of the quote may seem (in subsequent discussions with Carla) somewhat different from why she repeated it in her blog, I felt rather selfish and I began thinking when is a weaver good enough to start sharing the knowledge, and what way would suit me if I were to do it.

Then someone posted a link to this list in Facebook, and BANG, the last item hit me in the face so hard it actually hurt!

I can't teach; I tried it once with a good friend and we nearly killed each other and we don't talk any more. I can't demonstrate because I get so nervous I make numerous mistakes. I've been asked a few times if I take in interns and immediately I declined because we have no spare room, we eat so irregularly, Ben's a super private person, the house is dangerously messy because my work is all over, our house is not exactly within walking distance from town and buses run hourly if that frequently, and there is the unsmall and unpredictable matter of my head.

But one of the qualities I don't like about some members of my family is they are so quick and adept at listing reasons why they can't do something, never considering why/how they can, and the possibility they might actually enjoy it. So maybe time for a rethink, eh.

The good thing, though, is, Carla makes us draw animals, real and imaginary, and animals don't appear on my radar, so I got stuck with her course immediately after a cruisy, wind-in-my-hair start. But now, I think I can draw several versions of a Sel-Fish!

Photographs/Avatars/Banners/Profiles, Brand/Range/Vision/Voice

2012-01-15T10:08:00.003+13:00

* * * * * This is a long post, because I've been thinking about this for 25 months * * * * *

In the old days, life was simple. I wove wide shawls with a particular brand of NZ merino in the warp, and either merino, merino/mohair, (both from the same source,) or merino/possum/silk, (another source,) in the weft, and because I was restricted to two sources' color palettes, my pieces were either blue-ish/purple-ish/teal-ish, or black with/out natural. They represented, were, what I made.

Then I added cashmere; I loved colors available, but the yarns are tearfully expensive, so I decided on a range of small scarves with simple construction to make the most of cashmere's lightness and softness, and shorten the time and lighten the workload to weave each piece. This became my first merchandise/range, and in Nelson it came to best represent me. The two styles were so different in my mind, and I only sold in one gallery, so I didn't feel discordant.

Then I discovered the skinny cottons. There were gazillion colors, at least at the start, and oh, so affordable, at least at the start. These yarns enabled me to weave exactly the kind of cloth I envisioned weaving; to practice fine, flat weaving in case one day I can afford to do this in silk; to exhibit the kind of cloth I wanted to show, and to offer another merchandise range at more affordable prices relative to my other pieces. And they provided the exact kind of visuals I wanted to represent me as a maker.

Since late 2010, I've tried to add, for want of a better term, a "stash reduction" range. I have a wide range of yarns in my stash: yarns too thick/fat for my taste, colors not to my taste, discontinued products, yarns containing synthetics, ill-conceived purchases, and rescue yarns. I've wanted to reduce my stash and spending, I needed more affordable products for the-then third gallery, a non-profit. (I've always tried to differentiate style of work I sell to suit the mood and clientèle of each gallery.) Sales dropped (to the ground!) in 2010, and I needed pieces I could weave quickly and preferably on the 4-shaft Jack. And crucially, my weaving was becoming predictable and I wanted to experiment with sizes, textures, and colors/dyes, aesthetics. My current dye frenzy is partially for this.

And then I hurt my arms. Big pieces don't sell; cashmeres do better; cotton pieces don't and get stolen from exhibitions. I feel pulled in all directions, which in and of itself is not a bad thing as I can always delve further and develop ideas in any of these areas, not to mention new ones I want to try. And then there is the unsmall matter of conceptual/fiber/textile-art, which has a much wider appeal to exhibition selectors/judges/juries in the current climate, but oh, so foreign to me. And as a maker, I have been feeling eclectic, frantic, and all over the place.

In the old days, life was simple. I made a logo, picked out a typeface, and colors to for each, and used them whenever I needed a tag, an invoice, or a business card. With my woven tags, I used the typeface and colors I already used.

Then Ben made me my first website, and we considered contents, arrangements, photographs and word for months to make sure the website represented what I made and me as a maker in ways I wanted my website to. Then I started blogging, and we used as many of the same elements as possible in the appearance of the blog, and I even had an editorial direction but that went out the window fast. I also started participating in things online and created/registered/listed accounts/profiles as required, and though I tried to use the same visuals, I was seduced to using newer images from time to time. I can't recall all the places I have created/registered/listed myself any more. (Fortunately, I usually chose MegWeaves or "Meg in Nelson" for my account name because early on I tried to avoid being identified as Japanese because "Japanese+weaver" felt such a specific, cold, elite box, of which I am not a member. Nowadays, this is at the back of the queue of things to worry about.)

Ben and I made my second website on Blogger so I could update it myself, and changed quite a bit to suit where I was at the time. I had another look last year and made numerous minor changes; what you see now at MegWeaves.co.nz is, in effect, V2.5, but I don't feel comfortable/confident/sure if it represents what I make and me as a maker at this point.

It all started with photographs, most specifically when we spent a day with Doni and Husband. I always loved the quiet and uncluttered photographs on Doni's log, (Shipbuilding posts in similar style); they allow me to focus and contemplate. Best of all they envelope me in a cocoon of calm.

After watching Doni and her camera in action, Ben explained to me some of the qualities I love are characteristic of SLR cameras, and I could emulate, to a degree, using his first, ancient digital Canon. I tried, but an old worry resurfaced: it's not only the camera, nor the lens, but what I have around me, how I see the world, how I live that's reflected in my photos. My photos are eclectic, frantic, and all over the place.

My present conundrum is not a marketing exercise in the first instance; I can't be bothered updating everything constantly and simultaneously. But it is a "Who am I? What am I supposed to be doing?" question, supported by an affinity with/for uniformity and simplicity.

What visual elements am I using now to represent me? (That I remember?)

My avatar, Wordpress's pick

I still like the grays I chose, pale yellow in combination, typeface Monotype Corsiva, my tulip weaving draft logo, and the smaller of my tags. I like the colors of the banners but I feel they don't represent what I make, and both avatars feel ancient; I dislike how vivid I made the gold, (though it stand out as an avatar, and when I'm depressed it takes that degree of saturation/contrast to see things.) Most of all, I don't like so many different elements from different era purporting to represent what I make and me the maker today. Variety is good, but I have a blurred vision of the present, and until I can see more clearly, I don't think I can't solve the present conundrum.

So, is that it? Is this where I am? Thanks a bunch for clarifying it. Do you think I need a colorful goo image in the meantime?

That Kinda Friday

2012-01-13T20:11:00.001+13:00

I worked too hard doing housework on Wednesday so I was a little tired on yesterday and elected to do Not A Lot. Today was looking to go the same way, so I decided I'd do something productive, if not what I was supposed to have finished last Friday: tax returns. Which ended up having to select a few photographs of my pieces. I'll see if I can collect my thoughts on this subject for another post; truth to tell I've been thinking about this for nearly two years now. Suffice it to say, the photos representing me on the Internet are all over the place; I can't even remember some of the places I created profiles/accounts, and some are those artist directory type places. Yikes.

And, boy, does my hard drive need some serious tidying up!

* * * * *

Looking at stuff I made made me want to weave, so I decided to weave for just 15 minutes. According to my notes, the last time I wove was early August last year, (except for the Pomegranate combo in Jaapn,) and it was good for this weaver to, errr, weave.

The piece is another almost-invisible Log Cabin, but the great thing about Log Cabin is, the wefts go in either A-B-A-B or B-A-B-A alternately, so the order lets me know where I am. 13.5 minutes in, with one more pick to go, I realized the order was wrong; this block should end with A so I can resume tomorrow with A, but noooooo!!! I unpicked for seven minutes, then wove for another five, and left it 39 picks shorter than where I was before. But I walked away. Maybe if I'm good, I can do two lots of 15 minutes tomorrow.

Knowing it'd be hard to walk away from the loom after only 15 minutes which turned into 25.5 minutes, I had selected three cones to prepare for dyeing before I started weaving, which was a tood strategy. I made two skeins each of two types of yarn, finished up the day sticking them in the urn, and headed for the shower.

But you know, showers are dangerous; ideas inflilterate your head then consumes your thoughts.

Because I liked the way my non-Ikat warp (in the fourth pic) turned out, I wound two skeins of the same yarn am tying randomly again this evening. This can be the weft for this warp, or for another. The tying, though, I have to proceed with caution, because there's a lot of wrist action in tying.

* * * * *

Errata: the warp chain shown in the first pic is NZ merino, because I knew when I made the warp that it was merino. Which means the pale gray cone I'm loving this time around is most probably Australian merino. I can't tell the difference by looking at them very closely, except the NZ merino was undyed and probably why the brown is so saturated. They feels extremely similar, if not identical. If you towered above me and insisted they are different, then the only thing I may be willing to admit is that the NZ merino could be slightly skinnier. Depending on the way you hold your tongue.

Slowly

2012-01-11T18:50:00.004+13:00

After 10 consecutive days of dyeing, I didn't do any today; I was expecting a few deliveries and didn't feel like I can be holed up in the basement. But 10 days of 3-5 skeins daily add up to a pretty good number, and I've been thinking of what all this experience means. Instead of showing you my loot chronologically, I'll show you some interesting, (good and bad) ones.

This is my fav; the Australian soft yarn, possibly merino. After Medusa, I was scared so I didn't boil the solution, and I got a softer olive gray, which I either love, (beautifully elegant,) or loath, (very old looking.) So I boiled the newest skeins twice, but the color reverted to brown! I love the color, but goodness me, if I have a choice, I'll take nuanced gray every time. As you can see, I still have quite a bit of the original yarn so I'm keen to dye some more, and the solution still looks strong, but now I'm wondering why I got two lots of gray and then back to brown again, and weather I should add anything to get gray. The only possible things that went into the dye pot were very diluted soap or vinegar, but they don't correspond to the dye lots which yielded grays. Any suggestions?

These are rather unsubstantial, (i.e. airy but with no substance,) soft merino, about 8-ply, and the first undyed yarn to go into the walnut husk solution. Considering they were undyed, (a little paler than the photo,) they didn't take much color. Unsubstantial body and tentative dye job mean I need really good quality wool for the warp for these babies.

I've become interested in the chemistry of wool and dyes, though I keep no record so there isn't much to fall back on. Still, I thought the oxidization of the liquid, through many times boiling the solution, was what made the yarns come out gray, but that wasn't the case. Curiouser and curiouser. I can see myself spending hours and hours of undocumented dyeing if I didn't have a few deadlines with my weaving this year.

* * * * *

Today was one of the hottest days this summer, and at the hottest time of the day, around 3PM, our new stove was delivered. Not that there was much wrong with the old one: it was a 1989 model, (the same year as Ben's beloved red candy car,) and the oven was 10C cooler than what it said, one hob was either off or all the way up, one plastic handle had crumbled, and none of the parts were available any more. So we didn't have a handle on the wonky hob; big deal.

Sometime after Ben came back from Japan but before my return, the stove did something that angered him, (who is by far the better and more-frequent cook Chez Nakagawa,) so much, he let me know his feeling (!) on Skype. As far as I was concerned, if need be, we could have had a fancy, dedicated pair of pliers nearby and lived in peace for another ten years, but Ben wanted to check out the Boxing Day sale on Boxing Day, and I was too sick to argue, so when he asked me to pick one, I picked the least fancy one for one reason: it was a smidgen shorter/lower than the rest, nearly the same as the old one.

I've noticed no amount of dish washing in Mama's kitchen made my arms ache, but here in my kitchen, just a short time makes me almost want to cream and we figured it's the slight difference in the height of the sink. When my arms were not hurt, I got back pains after spending a long time in the kitchen, but now I get acute shoulder/arm pains, so Ben is going to build me a step thingie, (picture a very wide footrest you might have under your computer desk,) soon.

All was not lost. As we disconnected the old stove, Sparky Leroy discovered one of the four wires extending from the wall but inside the old stove just about had it. I still prefer not to throw away things that still work, (the old one is just going to landfill!), and would have liked to have bought a new couch, or a mattress, or a washing machine, but never mind... All I had to do was to keep the oven on full blast for half an hour afterwards.

* * * * *

Group R homework. Dis-like. The directive is too Keri Smith, (other members appear to be smitten by her,) and though I like her blog, I find her approach too violent and extreme; I can imagine it being attractive to young folks, but to me it epitomizes the emphasis on the artist/concept/performance, and not the technique. Whilst I can see accomplished artists discovering interesting triggers from her processes, or simple joy, it's not for me for now, so I defied our rules and have been more intentional.

After leaving my rag outside in the rain for several days, I've been dipping/dunking/leaving it in the dye urn from time to time, and sticking it with the rest of my washing from time to time. I have no attachment to the piece, found nothing interesting, and can't wait to be done with it. The gesso-ed side retains pigments better, (well, doh!) but not the other side; that's about it.

* * * * *

The irony of the day is, I don't have to cook tonight, because I cooked a whole chicken as a farewell to my old stove last night.

Dread

2012-01-08T10:55:00.067+13:00

Last lot of the Walnut Husk juice dye, yesterday; well, this morning, because I didn't go downstairs to check until 1AM.

I am such a natural dye newbie I forgot the same solution can yield different colors from one lot to another. I had this mature, seductive silver gray skeins in the pot, (like seals swimming in shallow sea,) but since I was looking at an already-gray yarn, I thought they were only wet, and wished if only the yarns would look like that when dried! AND, I forget why I wanted to dye with walnuts in the first place: the lush silver gray! That's what Doni wrote a while back, I think, and that's why I've been obsessed with walnut dyeing since. Anyway, the liquid looked the same muddy brown, and I kept almost boiling the yarns for half an hour or longer!

What I got instead is one warp of lame matted gray of Japanese-manufactured tweed wool, (the original yarn is much darker than seen here),

And two skeins of mature dreadlocks, middle-aged Medusa wig, or a spoiled cat's plaything; the yarn is the same Australian wool as the second picture yesterday...

But I love, love, love the second color, I'm making three more skeins of this and trying again, keeping fingers, toes and eyes crossed I get the same/similar gray.

Dyed and Gone to Purgatory

2012-01-07T18:23:00.001+13:00

It's been cloudy all day and if it's hard to show you accurate colors on better days, light like today's can't do justice. With that in mind, in no particular order, along with skeins of the same type dyed previously, (also in inaccurate colors)...

Very scratch Tweedy gray wool of unknown origin; the top of the cone was already yellowed when I bought it some years ago. This yarn, for some reason, makes the Walnut brown appear yellower than other yarns. It's still scratchy.

Soft skinny Australian wool of unknown breed; possibly merino, in a criminally unattractive light gray. They are more saturated than seen here, and redder that the previous yarn. I can't tell if there is any correlation between the saturation, temperature or length of time in the dye bath. But nice.

When I saw the two very lighter skeins, I thought it'd go nicely with a black warp, then remembered a pre-made one. Putting these skeins next to the black warp chain, the black was too saturated and jarring, so I dyed the warp, too.

The ever so slight softening of the black of this warp (foreground) made it friendlier; now my problem is, it's an 8-meter warp and I don't think I have enough wefts. Still, nice.

My fav, and another one I can't photograph to do justice. A lovely dark almost-black wool of unknown origin, possibly a Japanese product, but who knows where the bahbahs lived. I made a short warp, then tied at irregular intervals and irregular tightness before dyeing, as seen in the right. Imagine a badly made length of sausage links in your dye bath. I intended the tied bits to act as retardant rather than resist, used old mercerized cotton, and hoped they will come out slightly lighter with gradated boundaries, but the ties prevented the walnut juice seeping through. The light bits remained "undyed" but both the original and dyed parts are darker than seen here. This warp, I'll try to show you when it's on the loom, perhaps.

The last of the very bad pics: many years ago I started buying yarns in colors I wouldn't normally buy; autumn colors, yellows, oranges, and greens. One KG of this was the apex of such effort; it looked more muted on the website, but oh-so-in-your-face in real life, so it sat at the back of the shelf for a decade. After I saw how nicely the black warp morphed, I dunked the two pre-measured warp chains that sat in the pre-measured warp drawer for also a very long time. It's now slightly more manageable, but I'm still not sure about what weft to use.

Three more skeins in the urn; the liquid still looks chocolatey dark, but the skeins have sat in the urn all afternoon and not picked up much hue. I'm not sure what I'll do with them.

As regards the title of my previous post, he did. A ripe pineapple was sitting on the kitchen table for a week; it was unbearably inviting. Yum yum.

Dice Me some Pineapples

2012-01-07T12:24:00.000+13:00

Arms tingling, head hazy, but life is good.

Yesterday was Epiphany Day in Italy. I knew that's when the Three Wise Men arrived with three not very useful gifts, and modern day Christmas celebration finishes in Italy. I didn't know, though, that there is a lost witch involved. I like that. Besides, I always held a Joycean understanding of "epiphany", of understanding one's destiny/vocation, rather than deity; though in Joyce's world they were inseparable and now I wonder if my university's un-Catholic, pale Wesleyan view influenced me, or was I hearing only what I wanted to hear, because I still carried a lingering guilt for no having had The Calling. No matter; just don't grow up Catholic in Japan if you can help it.

This year, I am going to make, either for myself only or for Ben and me, Christmas stocking/s shaped like Italy. Sicily and all.

I had another Blah day, dyeing some more stuff in walnut husk solution, but I finally started using the Grown-Up's Dye Urn, and, well, doesn't that make things easy! As with so many things in my life I wait for before I try, why didn't I do it earlier?

I'm accumulating a whole lot of brown wool yarns of different sizes and softness in different shades and strength of coffee-browns, because I thought dyeing is less taking on the old arm. Most of it is overdyeing, mostly various gray wools, but also a variegated "regret" brown/green/red/yellow of the loveliest quality merino, dark charcoal grays and a black merino warp. I'll show them all to you in the next couple of days because I think the walnut husks just about had it and I can stop now.

The dyed wool, when wet, has a faint smell of dusty, walnutty, (and a fainter but definite cheap white vinegar) smell, which is nice. The browns are mostly blue-browns, between milky-coffee and hot chocolate, which I like. I've learned that the same yarn from the same cone wound in different skeins, washed together, rinsed together, dyed at the same time and handled about the same can end up looking quite different, which worries me about overdyeing pieces woven with different yarns to accentuate the structure, as that's one of my final destinations in dyeing. I knew dyeing is difficult; it involves a lot of careful measurements and planning, and this is why I resisted it for so long, but I still think it's a great way to give my arms a rest, or at least a variety of movements. Besides, I've had everything I need to dye wool and cotton for ages.

I do like this slightly longer relationship with the yarns, and I do like handling my yarns in the dye pot. With the walnut shells and husks I've been handling the solutions and yarns without gloves, and I love wool's weighty, sexy, shiny, slinkiness when wet; they're like [insert favorite female sexiness] soaking in a marble tub filled with honey or milk or [insert favorite bath flavoring]. They're more like cats than dogs, and I'm a complete dogaphile, (I don't like caninophile - they sound like wolf-lovers,) to the exclusion of cats. (Whoa, that's a good way to say I don't like cats!) But in this case, I don't mind!

I have one problem, though; I am so not a brown weaver.

The great thing about Epiphany Day was, I had a flashing glimpse of a woven piece, I think in the afternoon, supposedly woven by me, a decorative piece. It was quite big, a lot of mid and dark grays, but it was just a flash. Still, La Befana's gift to me.

Today I'm going to have a go at weaving.

Thank Goodness Ben Works One More Day

2012-01-05T21:00:00.001+13:00

And then he has the weekend off. I miss him when he's away, though I like having the house to myself.

I woke up this morning, after having one of those instrument-of-the-Goddess dreams, no pun intended. I was in a town most probably Nelson, in a church I've never seen. I was invited to a concert by Japanese school children bands/orchestras by one of the participants, a 15-year-old boy prodigy on a South/Central American mouth-organ-like instrument I've never seen or heard of, (most probably not real,) though during the concert, he played a recorder and a guitar. He told one of the teachers/organizers I was his mother's English teacher.

During a break or after the concert, while discussing his music, he asked me how I approach my making, to which I had a nice short answer; it translates to something like, "Original look, easy care." Except the word "original" is a loaded word; online dictionaries say "original, creative" but the original (huh!) Japanese word is "zanshin" (斬新）, which also means bold, unique, never tried before. No matter what my stuff look like, they are sturdy and easy to care for, that much is true, but I had never said or heard it in Japanese. But the zanshin part - that could be where I need to go next.

I had a hard time getting up and feeling unreasonably tired, and this morning I figured out my annoying little friend that is mild-to-moderate depression was revisiting. I'm not sure, but the good doctor and I decided just last Friday that we could suspend my medication. I weighed between taking the medication, (because I have some left still,) and drinking St John's Wort tea, and went for the latter.

Unable to get my gray matters working enough to plan my next productive mood, I gazed once again at Carla Sonheim's website/blog, and signed up for The Art of Silliness 1. I got started as soon as I got the links. I'm supposed to do one sheet a day, but I went ahead and did three rather quickly, and enjoyed the experience immensely. I think by working through one sheet a day, I would get more out of each page and instructions, but the old head never came right today, and since nobody was watching, I broke the rules. Maybe I'll have enough gumption tomorrow to do some real life stuff, like starting on my tax return work, in addition to the worksheets.

Carla's on-line courses, at least the one I'm doing now, is a little bit like a visual The Artist's Way, but gentler. Instead of thinking or writing a lot of words, I move drawing medium across the paper, which in my current condition produces better vibes. Carla's instructions are gentler, a little less "out there" than Keri Smith, and more doable, inviting, and practical for me.

If you or someone you know has to live with not-too-serious mental or life afflictions, even kids, I heartily recommend you look into Carla's Silliness series, because it's a good invitation to drawing, a good motivation to go from 0 to somewhere, in a most pleasant and kind way. And, almost forgot, they are affordable!!

I've half a mind to start a new sketchbook for my Carla work, but I'm not in a rush; for now I'm just going to gaze at the three pages I did today, see if I want to add lines or colors or do something else on blank sheets, and I'm trying very hard not to take a peek at future sheets.

Other soothing reads: I finished reading "Nigella Bites", and am considering rereading "How to Eat". (I have these two and "How to be a Domestic Goddess".) I reread Erica de Ruiter's articles in "The Best of Weaver's: Thick 'n Thin" and have more idea brewing, but after having tried a few drafts on the software, I thought simple might be best when using her techniques, so I'm back to the drawing board.

I think I'll go back to the Rothko book tonight.

So, which one of you pointed me in Carla's direction anyway?

Monday Morning this Wednesday

2012-01-04T09:28:00.000+13:00

Ben's gone to work and I have the house to myself. I'm supposed to do my tax return work for the next three days, though if I put my mind to it, it only takes one day.

My seven weeks in Japan were very real, a sort of immersion course on the life of oldies in that country. When I came back I couldn't believe how surreal my normal life was, and felt outright guilty I had it so easy. Then, Ben and I taking turns being "sick" (and boy, is this a relative term!) for a couple of weeks was surreal; time was suspended, the outside world didn't exist; we slept a lot and didn't do much thinking. So, today we're sucked back into our respective realities.

I woke up startled because NZ Guild's National Exhibition submission paperwork is due March 1. I know, because I'm the one who warns folks about this, but I hadn't realized it's less than two months. Changing Threads paperwork is due February 17 - that's 45 days and no taking advantage of the leap year here. I knew these days at the back of the back of my mind; it just hadn't entered my consciousness that December 2011 has come and gone and now it's January 2012. Panic!

Garden, housework, weaving and dyeing will have to be measured and balanced. The arms haven't stopped tingling, and I'd like to keep them and hopefully use them until my last day.

Oh, wah wah wah; this has been such a "Wake Up, Dorothy" morning! Why does the sun have to be so bright??

The Trapunto-de Ruiter Conundrum

2012-01-03T19:02:00.002+13:00

In studying Erica's Magic-Step Towels draft, I learned the following. (This is exactly the kind of wordy writing about weaving I loathe, but unless I write this, I can't even tell if I am not understanding something. And it's weird for me but I'm going to read the draft threading from left to right, as yo use it in the linked draft.)

You have two choices in the threading:
2-2-2-1-2-2-2-1-2-2-2-1-2-2-1-1-2-2-1-1-2-2-1-1-2-1-1-1-2-1-1-1-2-1-1-1-2, or,
1-1-1-2-1-1-1-2-1-1-1-2-1-1-2-2-1-1-2-2-1-1-2-2-1-2-2-2-1-2-2-2-1-2-2-2-1.
(Consider the two threads in red a convenient spacer so the sub-blocks appear identical. But if you want to weave anything, consider carefully where these go, as I haven't figured out yet, but they probably go between blocks, rather than inside. Or not??)

Changes of warp colors coincide with changes of the shaft, and Erica started with the dark thread:
d-d-d-l-d-d-d-l-d-d-d-l-d-d-l-l-d-d-l-l-d-d-l-l-d-l-l-l-d-l-l-l-d-l-l-l-d

Woven as drawn in, it's easy to see we have a choice of 2x1, or two block, a vertical and a horizontal "stripes", with lighter color always coming from either the top or the right of each square in the draft, or the bottom and or the right in the cloth.)

The mild-OC in me wondered how many expressions I would get if I used 2 threading schemes x 2 color order, or four combination; I didn't get 4x4 or 16 different expressions, but four.

Light (or dark) colors coming from top, right, bottom and left.

Two expressions in each column/row. I was quite pleased with this draft, but I do so like mirrored looks, so what would happen if I mirror-repeated each block. And, well, I can see it's a logical extrapolation of the above, but a bit disappointing, don't you think?

A little more contemplation needed, I think.

But the walnut husk dye should be　finished.

Last Day of the Holiday

2012-01-03T10:56:00.003+13:00

And I am expressly happy and a little bit sad; a little bit sad because today is the last day of having Ben at home but because one or both of us were sick with a bit-punchier-than-mild colds for the last 14 days, we didn't do anything special; we slept a lot, took turns taking over-the-counter cold capsules, and managed only a little weeding. But we cooked and ate well with still one-third left of a cake I baked on Boxing day. Controlled indulgence, folks. (Still my body remains an enigma to health professionals; with the amount of physical activities and a drastic change in my diet and portion for seven weeks in Japan, I didn't loose an ounce; it was thus when I worked out at the gym 3+ times a week 2006/07.)

Expressly happy (and a little bit sad) because I managed to start work on January 1; that I did this, and that I'm looking into new things bring a tiny but steady grin on my face. "A grin, and not a smile,? I hear you ask; for now it's a grin, I can't explain way, but I assure you it's a good grin.

Project 1: Dyeing

Because I want to include some hand-dyeing into my "real" work I started making short warps and skeins to dye/overdye first thing in the morning on Jan 1. Though I had specific plans then, I keep changing my mind so I'm not sure what I'm going to do in the next few days, but at least I have these babies and a couple more waiting, and a nice dark walnut husk solution brewing as I type. I'm sensing that when one ventures into the world of dyeing, measuring becomes important; it's something I didn't do much while just playing around.

I have mixed feelings with my speed. Normally I would have made these warps/skeins in a couple of hours, but this lot took me two half-days in three goes, and even then I had overnight more-than-discomfort-but-less-than-pain on both arms both nights. I had thought my Wonky Arms were temporary, that with care I'll get over it, but I've only just start to entertain the dreadful possibility this is for ever and I really have to learn how to control my body and work wisely. (See me roll my eyes; it's so much easier said than done.)

Which, in a perverted but hopeful way, generates excitement because when one changes the way one works, I'm convinced, it changes what one makes. In my case, I'll be an even slower weaver, but I'll spend more time with each piece, which has got to be a good thing.

Project 2: Trapunto Made Me Do It

Yesterday Trapunto gave us a link to Erica de Ruiter's taken on Log Cabin/Basket weave. You might call it synchronicity, but this morning I was gazing at "The Best of Weaver's: Thick 'n Thin" and, lo, there are heaps of Erica's articles for weaving with less than four shafts.

True story: I've been avoiding anything to do with Erica because I think she taught in New Zealand, (and so I'm convinced it included Blenheim,) relatively recently, and though I was a member of the national guild, it completely went under my radar and I found out about it after she'd gone home! I kicked myself then and I kick myself today that I missed this opportunity, and I felt sad every time I saw her name.

Well, no more. As you know, my primary "production" (if you can call it that) loom is the four-shaft Jack so I'm always on a lookout for interesting four-or-fewer (preferably without pickup) ideas, so Erica and her articles are most definitely on my radar now.

Not Quite Project 3: Speaking of Trapunto
I think I looked up "trapunto" some time ago when I first "met" her. But, again, the Goddess of Weaving led me to a picture of woven trapunto in "The Best of Weaver's: Fabrics that Go Bump", page 13, by Alice Schlein, and this is most definitely something I'd like to do sometime in the future.
Definitely.

I love "The Best of Weaver's" books and I have them all, but texture is not something I'm interested in weaving, (though I love it when others do it well,) that these two books I bought when they came out but never really looked at until this morning. That's got to be a good sign.

* * * * *

I started a wee, tiny non-project for the month of January. It's laughable, but doable, so I'll show it to you on the 31st.

* * * * *

Some years ago I created a Flickr group called Weaving Booboos. So far it's been only me posting booboo pics, but if you are so inclined, I'd love for you to share some of yours, too.

A Day in the Life of Looms 2012

2012-01-01T14:40:00.041+13:00

Mine, 2:15 PM, 1/1/2012, Nelson, New Zealand, 41°18 0"S / 173°13'10"E.

Rigid Heddle; I might put the first project of the year on this one. More on this later.

8-shaft sample loom unfortunately didn't see any progress in 2011.

16-shaft Klik has the same color (as last year) but a different experimental warp.

4-shaft Jack has the last of the cashmere Log Cabin warp.

16-shaft Mac has the dark gray cashmere warp; Tim's birthday scarf is next, then Mom's.

Rose

4-shaft Jack loom. Why am I weaving a braid in the Creative Fibre colours? You will have to wait till festival this April to find out.

8-shaft table loom. Not sure if you call this a naked loom or not.
There is no warp on it but it is loaded with fabrics waiting to be made into garments.

8-shaft countermarch. An odd photo but I wanted to show both sides of the fabric - very different. I didn't particularly need another woolly sofa throw right on summer holiday time but I weaving keeps me sane - and the slubby multicolour yarn was looking at me.

Geodyne

Dianne

Judy

Marion

Sue

Cally

Holly

Sandra

Kimberly

Peg

Andrew

Trapunto

Susan

2012 Resolution that Isn't

2012-01-01T00:00:00.006+13:00

I decided I don't need a resolution. Even if I don't follow through, living without a resolution is difficult for me because they were important in my upbringing. Or so I thought until these last couple of years. My siblings have a surprisingly different take on this; suffice it to say, Sister and Baby Bro see a total lack/neglect/denial of critical listening and screening when it comes to my parents' directives. And get this, Mama agrees with them! So I've been the only one spending days and weeks evaluating the passing year and selecting and prioritizing New Year's Resolution for the last 30-plus years!

I still have plans or ideas I can take up or not, and it's a short list this year. And if you've been observing me unravel for years, you've heard it before: I'd like to incorporate dyeing and sculpting (by way of shibori) into my real weaving; "real" meaning not just for fun or experimenting but to incorporate into my weaving either to sell or to exhibit.

I still love the slick flat cloth first and foremost, but I don't want to get stuck with just that, and I'm willing to push myself this year. I also figure, (and if you have any learned advice, I'd very much appreciate it,) the problem with my arms is going to be a long-term thing, possibly a forever thing, so in order to reduce intensive weaving-on-the-loom time but still stay productive, dyeing/wet-finishing would require different kinds of muscle use and may give me as much pleasure/satisfaction without the harm.

And that's what I wrote on Connie's blog. I still cringe/laugh at the irony the original injury was caused by stacking firewood, not weaving.

There is a smaller one, but this is more like a reward than a goal: one of you put me on to Carla Sonheim's online classes in your blog. I've been hoping to do something, especially in these blank summer months when Ronette isn't running drawing classes. I particularly wanted to do Faces 101 but that particular week I need to get my tax return done, and the Needs List was a bit too complicated to figure out what some of the materials are, with what I might substitute them, or whether I can get similar products in Nelson. I still hope to pick a class or two as a reward for finishing the dreaded Tax work.

After a few days of continuous rain, the last sunset of the year was really big.

Almost Forgot...

2011-12-31T11:00:00.006+13:00

Tonight is New Year's Eve 2011, which means tomorrow is New Year's Day 2012. So I was thinking, would anyone like to do another round of A Day in the Life of Looms again? If so, take picture/s of your loom/s on January 1 your time and post one per loom and send me a link to your post, or send me JPG file/s.

(Oooops, three of my five babies look the same today as they did at the start of this year!)

EDIT: Naked looms are beautiful! It's not so much about us and our work, but more in appreciation to our looms.

Rainy Thursday

2011-12-29T20:40:00.004+13:00

This morning, (OK, almost midday,) I weeded and cleaned my flower pots in the rain, (because I didn't get out earlier). I was going to start earlier but I had a wee tour of favorite book-selling sites, culling Wish Lists, and a bit of shopping around for weaving and art books. I ended up buying one detective story from Amazon.uk for 1p - with postage, it cost me 7.01 pounds; I put it on the list while in Japan because its translation got a favorable reviews on my fav book review TV program. I'm enjoying buying inexpensive used books. Did I tell you I bought four design books while in Japan for Y1 each, (Y251 including postage,) and another for Y53?

* * * * *

My homework cloth is sitting in the rain. I've been wondering if I should put a dirty pot on top of it so it will get stained, but that felt not at all like me, so it's just sitting in the rain. We've been warned that we're going to get terribly lot of rain, so I might have to put something on it so it won't get blown away.

* * * * *

I found a few things relating to Randy Darwall's I hadn't been aware of:

The First is a short radio piece from September 2009, on their local (I think) radio station.

The second is the start of an article in Ornaments magazine from December 2010. Then I discovered 23 issues of Orgaments magazine can be downloaded for US$3 - there is a Goddess after all!

I would love to take his workshop again sometime, perhaps in 2013.

* * * * *

Here are a couple of websites/pictures I came across in the last couple of days.

AUT is an Auckland tertiary institution. I was particularly taken by the blue piece at the bottom; I saw a lot of lovely manufactured felt ornaments delicate shapes cut out in Japan and first I thought it was felt, but it's leather!

The other is about a Moroccan exhibition. Looking at the thumbnail photos at the bottom, I felt so at peace that weaving is a slow en devour, and that it's OK if I'm not a prolific weaver.

* * * * *

I've been reading "The Artist's Reality: Philosophies of Art" by Mark Rothko. More accurately, I'm stuck in the long introduction by his son, editor and psychologist Christopher, who was six when Rothko died. Mark Rothko's words were written in late 1930's/early 1940's before he arrived at his brand of abstraction, and he never finished the book.

A few Rothko links:

Christopher relates a Rome exhibition with the book (in two parts - Sister Kate has two clips as well.)

2008 The Guardian interview with Kate Rothko on the eve of Tate Modern exhibition.

Cashed 2008 The Independent interview where Christopher recalls stories about his father.

2012 Resolutions - Do I Need One??

2011-12-28T16:09:00.000+13:00

With my 2011 summary out of the way, (or so I decided), I've been wondering if I need to consider goals and/or resolutions for 2012. Then, this morning, I found this post by Connie Rose. Though I love her work and would love to have a quilt piece by her, what's been puzzling me has been, "one new thing you envision for yourself or your art in 2012."

The first thing that came to me was to not worry about the big picture and concentrate on each piece/series on hand, but in my making, I do concentrate on the piece/series on hand; it's only when blogging that I begin to worry about the big picture, some of the time. In my making, I either have always been, am, or have become more relaxed and in-the-moment, which I may not have known until today.

Ben and I weeded a bit this morning; my lettuce patch and half of the veggie patch was cleared and some seeds sewn directly. The task should have been done about a month ago, but that's life; we still have plenty of summer left I'm hoping we'll get some tomatoes and zucchinis in addition to quite a few varieties of red/purple lettuces. All I need to do is water, weed and wait.

If you didn't know, Connie has another blog; it changes name from time to time to reflect Connie's take on life, but it's a lovely place where I can check where I am in life and feel led by Connie, in knowing and not knowing why we do what we do.

Landing

2011-12-27T17:27:00.001+13:00

Last post of the day. With most of my Japan posts done, (I'll show you my loot when I receive my parcel,) part of me wants to get stuck right into some making, part of me still wants to linger in the not-thinking state. Then, there is the small problem of my arms not being quite right. Still.

As I wrote a few days ago, Group R met at the end of November while I was still away. The minutes, kept for my benefit because we don't them any more, says the meeting was a little low-keyed/spirited:

"We were all feeling low or slow or lethargic for various reasons and the meeting started by acknowledging our low energy levels. We talked about the limitations we place on ourselves as we work at our “art”, the expectations we set, trying to control the outcome, not wanting to fail, and how these factors were negatively influencing our ability to think of creativity as play."

Ergo the homework. And the journal to go with it. I'm still not keen on the idea, but at lunch on Thursday, everybody else was so excited about their little pieces of cloths, I can't help but join in. So here goes; it ends, I think, on our next meeting which is scheduled for mid-January. The other girls will have had seven weeks with their cloth; I for three, but it's worth a try.

The Cloth Homework

December 9, 2011: Received Minutes of the November 28 meeting, which included the homework. I am so in the Mom's Real Life mode, so not in the airy-fairy, arty-f@rty mode, that I didn't want to take part and waste my life. But I knew that eventuality I will cave.

December 17: Discussed the homework with Mama, and that I intended to take something back from Japan. I had in mind an old piece of cloth stained in the rain which we dyed in the leftover Pomegranate solution, but forgot.

December 22: Group R lunch; with different degrees of initial excitement, Ronnie, Jo, Pat and Maria are enthusiastic about their cloth. I still couldn't get excited, but when asked by Ronnie whether I'll do it also, I said yes.

December 26: An idea of what to use for the homework popped up in my mind.

December 27: Cut out my square. This is a piece of pale pink curtain fabric I bought about 18 months ago. Back then, in Ronette's drawing class, we gessoed a whole lot of paper and cloth and drew on them. I never liked the drawing I did on this piece of fabric, so when I culled three years of drawings in October, I soaked, bleached and washed it several times to see how far back I could "reset" the cloth This is a small piece from it.

Side A: you can still see the yellow and purple conté I used to draw the figure. I can't tell how much gesso came off, as the cloth still feels stiff-ish, but then it's thick-ish curtain fabric dunked in water over and over again.

Side B looks closer to the original state, telling me that gesso doesn't so much as soak into the cloth, as sits on top of one side.

I was soaking some plastic kitchen utensils in bleach this afternoon, so the cloth went in there for half an hour; no visible changes.

I can talk the talk; I'm just not sure if I'm going to learn anything from this at the moment, though don't want to let that become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Japan - Part 11: Last Lot of Random Pics

2011-12-27T15:20:00.001+13:00

A station named "Princess", Gifu Pref.

Gifu Castle Tower.

Where I was standing when I took the Tower pic. Which should have warned me of things to come...

My big mistake, or adventure: The Path of Contemplation. I chose it among the five or six paths available to come down from the castle tower because I liked the name; about 70% of the track consisted of descending steep rock face, (not like the path shown here.) Many people had proper climbing shoes and climbing poles; I had my town sneakers on, and a water bottle and some snacks in my purse. I grossly underestimated the serious side of Japanese walkers, but in the end, I came off the mountain unscathed and refreshed. But late for my bullet train.

The size of your bottom...

Mom had some help moving Dad's office into the living room so he can blog and Skype from the comfort of the... living room, and so Mom can join in or look at weaving blogs.

Bye bye, my country; until next trip.

For an uneventful trip, (especially compared to Jan 2010 trip,) with a smaller-than-ever number of photos, I found quite a few I find interesting. I can't wait for my next trip to Japan so I can venture into another smaller city, wherever that will be.

Japan - Part 10: More Random Pics

2011-12-27T14:36:00.001+13:00

An antique shop in my parents' current neighborhood. I didn't go in, but spotted the empty silk spools outside.

Mt Fuji in the rain from the bullet train. I took a two-night-three-day trip to Gifu Prefecture (historic Mino Region) to learn more about Oribe style pottery; Mama and I have been nuts about Oribe since we watched a wonderful documentary during my last trip. It's a very whimsical, erratic and modern style that flourished only for one generation, and it was wonderful to learn the historical context.

In retrospect I realize I don't have any photos of true (old) Oribe ware, as local museums didn't allow photography. When my catalogs and postcards arrive from Japan, I will post some here if I remember.

Gifu-Hashima Station, the most underutilized (is that even what I want to say?) bullet train station in the nation.

A preserved street in Gifu City.

Patterns!

This house comes with its own mini shrine!

Historical dig of a 1500s (I think) fort-castle in Gifu city.

Preparing the trees for snowfall, Gifu Castle Park.

Gifu Castle Tower seen from the local train; it's the blip on the highest hill towards the right, but I could see it from miles and miles away.

1600s climbing kiln, Toki City, Gifu Pref; home of Oribe pottery.

The "feet".

Recreation of how one level of the climbing kiln would have been stacked. The new pieces were stacked on the "feet".

Climbing kiln, exterior.

Between the Toki City Ceramic History Museum and the climbing kiln.

Spotted at the back of a smaller-than-a-whole-in-a-wall sushi shop; Tajimi City, Gifu Pref.

Japan - Part 9: More Textile Stuff

2011-12-27T12:52:00.002+13:00

My finished piece. (Yarns discussed here.) 12.5EPI; first time I used a boat shuttle on a Rigid Heddle, but it worked well. I wished I photographed the shuttle; it was thin and long (about 30-35cm?) and most probably one of Mama's loot from Sweden last century.

I haven't decided what I want to do with the fringes. The overall texture is soft and... frothy; I might be tempted to call it angel wing if it were white or pale blue, but the Polwarth warp gives it some heft. The generic look is devoid of personality and reminds me of something from a low-end department store, (which I frequented while home,) partially due to the rather drab yellow/green/light brown. But I'm not dissing it, just describing. It is a color that goes with a whole lot of things I own, and it'll be a very handy piece.

This is a cashmere piece Mama wove after we experimented with whimsical warp making almost three years ago. She wore it for a couple of seasons, and now I've pinched it. It's not only warm and light, but has a slightly meatier feel than cashmere scarves I weave, with same/similar yarns.

Japan - Part 8: Random Pics

2011-12-25T10:00:00.037+13:00

Train station at bottom right, the first gate to Chinatown in Yokohama in the middle. From memory the cream colored obscenity was a freeway weaving through town.

Chinese tea shop at the entrance of Chinatown.

After hours of walking up and down Chinatown in a downpour, we finally settled on this restaurant. As you can see, it was rather late by the time we came out.

Partition of the room where we were served.

"Beware of pushy Roasted Chestnut merchants!" an official warning from the Police.

At a fancy "fruit parlor"; one of the last outings before Ben came home.

Fruit wholesaler (?) near Akihabara.

Aki-Oka, a new development near Akihabara Station famous for the electronic shops. They cleaned out under the railway tracks and installed 30+ craft shops.

Our favorite; a handmade leather wallet shop.

Almost six, and learning how to wash rice from Grandma.

Hee hee.

Mt Fuji above our roof - the gray roof in the foreground is us.

Japan - Part 7: Random Pics

2011-12-24T22:24:00.000+13:00

I've always lived in houses facing West.

A dye shop. In the old days if you got tired of a kimono, or if you inherited one, these shops could take it apart, wash/dedye it, and dye to your taste.

A fruit shop at the bottom, residence above.

Kitchenware shop in the neighborhood I lived until May 1970. Ben was looking for a tea pot.

Poultry shop Mama patronized.

From memory, there was a veggie shop at front left, a fruit shop at front right, but the fish shop at the back is still there.

One of the three eatery I spotted which remained more or less unchanged since the mid-60's.

Two buildings.

Tofu shop; all products made at the back of the shop.

"Osozai" shop. They sell cooked/prepared food; probably precursor to large-scale food processing companies.

The small black building is a small warehouse well-to-do houses used to have. I've seen these in the country, but very seldom in the cities. This was very near where I used to live until 1970.

More future.

Japan - Part 6: Random Pics

2011-12-24T21:34:00.002+13:00

Roof tiles

Pray

Neighborhood photo studio advertising 7-5-3 celebration photos

Future

7-5-3 day celebration at Kawasaki Daishi shrine. Boys aged 5 and girls aged 7 and 3 are taken to places of workshop to thank good health; clearly a tradition that started when infant and child mortality rate was much higher.

Of course, it's mostly for Big People.

What did I tell you?

Donation not-so-graciously accepted for extra blessing.

Kid, I love your Mom's sensibility. (Good, safe, normal shoes rather than awkward sandals to go with Kimono.)

A fraction of Mama's carpet yarn stash

Japan - Part 5: Textile Stuff

2011-12-24T15:24:00.002+13:00

Mom and I dyed with pomegranate juice, using no mordants. Mama prepared the boucle, (which turned out to be 100% cashmere with no binding acrylic,) while I washed the NZ merino with scale on. I didn't wash the merino well enough so it ended up dyeing unevenly.

Late afternoon sun played tricks with the colors, and this is the best I could do. The undyed merino dyed pale tentative coffee-color; the originally ugly light brown merino boucle dyed complex/muddy yelllow-greeny brown.

Initially I was going to weave with one of these in the warp and the other in the weft, but after seeing more wool Mom dyed with pomegranate in the past, (above), and the scarf she wove and has been wearing a while, I used the boucle and a slightly sturdier wool, (she thinks Polwarth,) in the warp, and the boucle in the weft. I didn't wind it elegantly the first time around so I wasted quite a bit of warp (two meters on the board,) but I used the full 60cm width of Mama's rigid heddle. It's super light. I'll post pics as soon as I wash it this afternoon.

And this was the only completed piece from the last seven weeks. But...

I found the blank cutout figures in a stationary store just before I left. I didn't have the right moment to introduce it to my almost-six-year-old niece until the very last evening. It was worth it, though, because in the less-than-an-hour we had before dinner, she and I had a hoot making up these little friends.

The pack was inexpensive and cute; with no rhyme or reason I expected perhaps one link of 10 or 12 little figures but the pack contained 10 or 12 links of six little girls! I've been thinking I might go for the boy pack as it's possible to add skirts to make boys into girls; that way I can have both genders.

Dad flippantly suggested I make hair like my niece - when I did, she liked it very much she not only pinched mine, but requested a second one. So, the top row is mine, more or less completed, while the second is hers, and she was working on decorating the girl in the blue dress.

Holiday Wishes

2011-12-24T11:59:00.001+13:00

I made it home on Tuesday and had a lovely Christmas Lunch with Group R members on Thursday, but otherwise been dazed and confused and waking up to some all-too-vivid dreams. Most of all I've been having difficulty readjusting to my excruciatingly cruisey "normal" life, though I have managed to do half a dozen loads of laundry in four days. (Compared to the normal two or three a week.)

The flip side is I've been enjoying the empty-headedness, not planning, not thinking, not worrying, just existing, which, left on my own device, is nearly impossible to achieve.

I've slowly come to realize 2011 is coming to a close, (I really was that busy the last seven weeks,) and feel disappointed my weaving year wasn't as productive as I had planned, due mostly to my trouble with my left arm, (and the cursed mountain of the second lot of firewood,) but then there was the flood in Queensland, the quake in Christchurch, (and a few other places like Chile, Turkey, and China from memory?), the quake/tsunami/nuclear fallout in Japan, and dad's ill health to contend with. That I am not depressed or crazy-hyper around now should perhaps count as a small achievement.

The afternoon I came home Mom asked, and at Group R lunch Ronnie asked, if I was back in the creative mode; I had to think what that is. I'm not, in as much as I don't have gazillion future plans rushing in my head; luckily, I have a few warps which have been planned a while ago and all that needs doing is weaving them, left arm permitting.

Group R met once while I was away. (There was a meeting planned a week after I was supposed to return.) They decided on a small homework over the holiday season, the instructions to which reads:

"Each of us will take a 30-cm square of white or natural-coloured fabric and do whatever we want to it (but nothing overtly artistic) while keeping a journal about the process. It has to remain the same piece at the end of the process. No cutting or stitching. No marks, no pencils, etc. We’ll bring our pieces to the next meeting. Maria has already started and is discussing her progress in her blog.

"Some of the examples of things to do (in addition to the ones listed above) are:
* Wipe the table with it
* Do something to it when you’re angry
* Make prints using cut vegetables
* Drip ink, tea, paint or anything else on it
* Rub it with dirt, handprints, fingerprints
* Tie it with string and swing it at a wall
* Use as a napkin and document your meal
* Chew on it
* Eat colourful candy and lick it"

I was so out of my head and in my then-real life, living from second to second helping Mom and meeting Dad's demands, when I read the instructions I didn't want to waste my life on any airy-fairy (OK, arty-f@rty) homework. But you know I do like to participate, so I feel a square piece of fabric coming up. Or not. The others were having fun with it from what they discussed during lunch.

This is my 2011 summary; not the overlong list of things I did do and longer of what I had intended but didn't manage so hope to do in the coming year. But this was my year.

And here is a typically Nelson holiday wish to you and yours: Happy Holidays! (More Japan pics coming up incrementally.)

Japan - Part 4: Laughing All the Way

2011-12-16T15:50:00.003+13:00

Time flies when you're having fun and we've been laughing a whole lot, my parents and I. This trip has given me great insights into where I'm headed in 30 years, (no denying these two supplied me with genes, we are scary-alike,) reminding me how important a good sense of humor is; how not taking myself, politics and the weather forecast (!!) too seriously can make life more enjoyable; and how important regular exercise is.

My parents' memory is incredibly bad, and we have to discuss the same things over and over again. This makes Mama feel incompetent, and I remind her I'm not much better, which is true. It's the too-buzy-ness and the preoccupation with Dad's new diet regime that's consuming her attention/head space/time/energy, but two months on things are starting to settle a bit. Dad, on the other hand, is adamant Mama/"they"/bureaucracy is in the wrong, and that we forget/neglect/purposely omit telling him stuff, or we move stuff without telling him.

Dad's eyesight has been bad for years, but he continues to blog; the writing gives him great pleasure, but his pointing and clicking, not so, and every time an unexpected page/error message/request for account/password appears, it's the CIA/(insert convenient foe)/the computer interfering with "his Internet". I can only chide him, but sometimes I say something contrary to what I said before just to see if he notices, which sometimes he does!

In addition, both of their hearing has (have?) gotten worse, though the effect is inconsistent I can't modify my speech well. Much seems to depend on their health and mindset, so I could be speaking at the same level but sometimes I am too loud and sometimes too soft, and sometimes too loud for one and inaudible to the other. Their selective hearing is a source of great laughter; if I'm with Mama in another room and kid/criticize her or suggest something, Dad mysteriously hears me and shouts enthusiastic agreement or opportunistic criticism from the other room. Yet sometimes we can chide Dad while in the same room without his hearing us.

The "Use it or Loose It" balance has been astonishingly difficult. Mindset affects old people's physical health much more than I expected, which makes them incapable of mundane chores one day, but capable of great work the next. Dad has always been a hard worker at work but a lazy, era-appropriate husband at home, so we can never tell if he indeed needs help or just wants to interrupt Mama to show who is boss, (which he does sometimes.) From mid-October to early December, he was really sick but we and the doctors could never gage how much, Dad has multiple health issues, doctors tend to lump his problems as age-related, which doesn't go down well with my parents.

Mom and I want him to do as much as he can so his muscles and brain don't deteriorate further, but we want to be kind to him, too, and can't seem to find a happy place. In November we didn't expect him to see the new year, but now we think he'll be good for another few years, (though his norm will continue to deteriorate and Mama and he will have to get use to this,) so "using" what abilities he's got left has become more important and we try to stick with tough love, which needless to say, he finds annoying.

Stuff I've trained to do this side of, oh, 2002, in trying to improve my weaving has improved my life in more ways than I knew: trying to experience textiles, art and life with all my senses, trying to not worry about the outcome and experimenting for the sake of experimenting, and in general keeping an open heart to the universe. I've been sharing some of it with Mama, and intend to leave a list for her to glance at when she feels stuck in a dead end. I have all of you to thank, as well as my art/textile friends in Nelson and Marlborough. I'm lucky to be in your company, and to be able retell Mama stories you shared and show her pictures you've shown.

Now I've really got to either weave a piece, or pack stuff I need to post; the parents have been on my case about the packing for a few weeks, but now even I think it's time.

PS: I owe a few of you personal email replies, but I think they will have to wait until I'm home next week. A lumped but heartfelt apology.

Japan - Part 3: Mini Exhibition

2011-12-15T01:45:00.001+13:00

Today was Mama's last lesson for the year and her students were kind enough to bring a few of their favorite pieces from the past year and a half of weaving.

Mrs E's knotting. The colors are a bit more subtle than they appear here. The piece, she tells us, usually sits on one chair in the living room but nobody is allowed to sit on this piece, so it is quickly removed whenever the chair is needed.

Mrs E has a gray silk kimono jacket, and she slashed the leftover fabric intending to make a matching bag. After weaving the fabric, she didn't have the heart to cut into it, so now it's a good-sized wall-hanging.

Mrs T's knotting. Mama must like teaching it.

Mrs T's latest piece: tapestry. This piece looks much better against a dark brown background. After the last session, we had a robust discussion and demonstration on how to show woven work at their best.

Mrs T's fav scarf; she's still nervous about wet-finishing, so she's going to wear this as is to an End of Year party, and then take the plunge in the new year.

Mrs Y's knotting, framed in Mama's fav style. In real life, this colors are a little brighter and more nuanced.

Mrs Y's wall-hanging, containing lovely subtle color variations. The frame/hanger is one of many Mama bought in India many years ago. Do forgive the uncouth background.

The very best of luck to these three lovely weavers in the coming year.

Japan - Part 2: Responsible Party

2011-12-14T13:55:00.004+13:00

Parents this morning.

I've been trying to make up for 50-odd years of being The Naughty Daughter, The Expensive Daughter and The Daughter Who Doesn't Help Around the House. But they aren't always happy as they feel I've been "working too hard", wearing too little clothes, (they like to set the room temp at "tropical" most days), and I can't remember what all else I'm doing wrong. But we're laughing a lot together, too.

I promise I will post photos and stories once I settle. I go home on Monday.

Japan - Part 1

2011-11-12T19:22:00.001+13:00

Life has been a bit different of late.

Not only has Mom turned into Dad's full time caregiver, (and thanks for your emails; dad isn't in that bad of a shape, but his life is very limited and he needs Mom around all the time); I the housekeeper, and Ben the cook and handyman. Ben has extended his stay by a week so we can fix everything that needs fixing around the house and get it really ready for winter, and me by four; I might end up staying longer.

So, not a lot of outing for the two of us yet, but we've been photographing nostalgic shopping streets reminiscent of the 1960's near my parents' house, which has been great fun. Next week, we hope to go to the one near my folks' first home, where we lived until I was 9; that street, though very cramped and dingy, is thriving and was featured on a TV show a couple of nights ago.

Traditionally, shopping streets sprung up on the side of main highways and on the sides of the streets leading up to temples, shrines, and other "religious" sites. I wonder if you can see the green roof of the gate to this Buddhist statue.

As in many areas of the world, folks used to have a shop on the bottom floor and live on the top. This is an old kimono shop, both selling kimono and accessories, but also offering to dye/redye kimono and fabric. On the small section on the left, you can still buy undyed kimono silk and request special dye work.

Though these shops are separate buildings, many shopping centers covered the street section in the 60's and 70's; most allow vehicle traffic, but this street allowed foot and bicycle traffic only. Lovely. There were also many food shops that cooked what they sold on the premise; I might go back and photograph two tofu shops, my favorites.

Metal product advertisement popular in the 50's; these were often nailed on the side of shops and even some private homes. At least one of the products here is still alive and well, I think.

We did endeavor to go to an exhibition of Mingei craft pieces collected by Yanagi Soetsu, but I was exhausted just making my way to the department store, (my hometown of Yokohama has the population the same as whole of New Zealand, and just making our way across Yokohama train station, we ran into about one-third of them!) we checked the gift shop, the catalog, and the exhibition end date, (December 4) and went home!!

But don't get me wrong; it's not been all work and no fun. For one thing there is Internet at the parents' house, and Mom and I have been discussing and planning her hitherto biggest project, a simple garment. It's one that requires two rectangles, but Mom knows sewing and knitting, and she's been considering neck options as a good warm collar is important in this project. We've cut out crude facsimile pieces out of old fabric to fine-tune size, but there is a lot more to consider. I always knew Mom is a much more versatile and adventurous weaver than I, and it's been fun planning.

Because she teaches weaving to neighbors as well, only a rigid heddle is available for use right away, so I'm thinking of doing a hand-manipulated loopy thing on a small scarf, too. More on these later.

Life's Curveballs

2011-10-26T16:08:00.000+13:00

Whether it is a natural progression of my condition, the medication I started last Friday, the excitement of Rugby World Cup and its aftermath, or my virtuoso aptitude for slacking off, I've been living in a haze for the last little while.

I don't remember feeling so "out of it" when I was on the same medication in 09, but back then I was much worse, so perhaps there was no head space for monitoring. It's like being suspended in time and space; or getting a heavy dose of dentist's laughing gas; or mildly intoxicated. I have a vague recognition I'm not getting anything done, and a strangely remote sense of frustration I'm wasting my life, but most days I sit quietly and wait for the haze to go away.

I can't read, think, or even look at photos and graphics, but I have been watching reruns of mindless TV shows, (not good docos), and sleeping a lot. That's another thing; the medication messed with my sleeping pattern for a few days, but that seems to have come right. When I remember, I try mild exercises or gardening, and sometimes they've worked, sometimes I fell on the floor with exhaustion and just stayed still for a while.

Arm pain got bad enough I've have acupuncture treatment twice in six days with one more at the end of the week. Acupuncture works for me, but the treatment takes a toll, leaving me dysfunctional for half a day afterwards. So, another good reason to stay still.

Commitments and due dates can be good at times like these, it forces me to concentrate and get something done. I had to prepare a dozen posts for the group blogs today, which entailed reading and making sense of the instructions, which are usually simple and straight-forward but not at a time like this. It took me six and a half hours but I got them done and scheduled.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not sad, or in a bad way. I just feel suspended while the rest of the world moves forward, like in the Matrix movies. What I have been musing, very vaguely because that's all I can manage, is how disproportionately long the time you prepare/anticipate an event is to the duration of that event. And yes, I'm talking about my impending trip. I think we've been trying to get ready for the last month or so, and we're only going away for three weeks. Hopefully, in that time, I'll find my way back to being present in my life. And get back on the loom bench.

You gotta laugh at what life throws at you. Because it's not hard.

Mind You...

2011-10-19T08:36:00.000+13:00

It's not that I've been cranky, but certainly powerless.

Dad went into the hospital before a long weekend in Japan, and ended up staying in the ICU for a week because he couldn't breath. He's abandoned his lifelong creed that healthy (or ill) body comes from healthy (or ill) mind, and has switched to "pity me" mode this week. Mom is still holding on to the family tradition; we make light of ill health. I'm constantly trying to gauge where the truth lies.

We've had strong spring sea wind and our chimney became either skewed or loose; last week when we had very heavy rain, we actually had a leak; pot sitting on top of the wood burner, and us listening to the drip-drop while watching the telly. I was reminded of my parents' previous home where terracotta used to get shifted or blown away in typhoons some years and containers were placed all over upstairs and we fell asleep listening to the drip-drops in autumn typhoon season. Though I've been in touch with my chimney guy, he's so busy I may not be able to get him before we leave. Meanwhile, we continue to have heavy rain every three or so days.

My problems are trivial compared to real problems folks have. But sometimes my life plays out to me like a bad play - lots of little trials without much tribulations or redeeming denumount - yet not terrible enough one can recall how bad it was. Forgettable. My life and goals have gotten smaller.

I was right to see a doctor yesterday, even though my regular guy is away, and even though I wondered if I was being a bit alarmist. I think the locum was right in getting me back on mild meds, at least for the next short while. Life of a weaver in Nelson has got to be a bit more exciting, you know. Even with two tennis elbows.

Crikey...

2011-10-18T10:59:00.122+13:00

I'm not doing much, but the arms are going crazy. I do the physiotherapist's menu once a day most days, though I suspect that's not enough. I haven't done anything strenuous in a couple of weeks, just minimum housework. What's most aggravating is by now I should know better about my condition and know how to live so the arms can be better faster, but it's not going that way. In the mornings I stare at my To Do lists and wonder what I am capable of doing that day and this has been doing my head in.

A friend has been doing my head in; she works hard at her art, she's good at what she does, but also feels she deserves more recognition and financial rewards, that people should be coming to her, and she's disgruntled; I used to enjoy talking to her a great deal, but after listening to her for most of this year, her sense of entitlement has been doing my head in for a few months.

I've had a mild virus last week. And a dental emergency the week before that, which led to major money worries for next year. Ironic as the emergency happened the day I figured if we can pay our health/life insurance in April instead of January, we won't be in such a bad shape every summer after we pay our house/contents/car insurance in November. I knew this for ages but never took action. That almost feels immaterial now; I'm shopping around for a different dentist as we don't live anywhere near the right zip code to be his patients anyway. The strangest thing is, I can manage emergency spending of three figures by scrimping and saving; four figures worry me but I can figure out a way to manage when I can approach it calmly, but a five-figure dentist fee? I can only laugh out loud and live in denial. But that's doing my head in.

In case you hadn't heard, there has been a small event talking place in New Zealand, called the Rugby World Cup. We haven't been big fans of rugby (union) for about six, seven years, (players' high salaries, drunken shenanigans, wife-/girl-friend beating and name suppression, etc,) but I've been watching almost all the games in the last two weeks. It's something I can do without using my hands much. But have you heard there is an oil spill on the east coast of the North Island of New Zealand for the last two weeks? Last night's top news item was how the All Blacks celebrated their win (against Wallabies/Australia) in their underwear! And we have an election at the end of November, with a referendum on our voting system; all four choices sound like something you pick up kissing the wrong guy or girl. And yes, all this is doing. My. Head. In.

Group R met yesterday; one member, Judy, left to concentrate on her work so now we are five and that small change made a great difference; five feels much cozier and less formal. It was good to see everybody, but nothing earth-shattering to report. Changing Threads is going ahead in 2012, but there is no size limits this time. Submission closes a fortnight before Creative Fibre National Exhibition, but they open on the same night. And five months after that, Group R's "Beginnings" exhibition opens. No, they're not doing my head in, but I'm extremely frustrated I can't work.

So, I guess, overall, I've been frustrated and angry how the second half of this year has turned out. Especially since I felt I finally got the hang of weaving more regularly, not just planning and thinking about it. It appears very often when my weaving life is on an upward swing, something happens to take away the inertia. So I've kept my head down and tried to stay calm, and have been making up and checking off items on To Do lists; mostly to do with preparing for our upcoming trip, but with art- and weaving-related things making an occasional appearance. Yeah, I feel a bit sorry for myself, but being a victim doesn't get much done, so I try to keep my head down and bum up most days.

Mom wanted hints on what her students can do on two shafts; my Log Cabin samples fit the bill. I've also posted about Silver vs. Golden Ratio in my Japanese blog so we can discuss it.

"Area" Postscript

2011-10-09T13:42:00.002+13:00

"Jolly Lucky Us" Award: due to a misunderstanding with the group that was to follow us, The Refinery extended the Area Exhibition by two weeks. Lucky, eh?

"Saying 'No' Politely" Award: make no mistake, every time the Richmond group contacts me, they are nothing but courteous and polite, but this morning they rang to ask if I would write the article for the paper Creative Fibre magazine. I thought that was pushing it a bit, and I declined, politely, I hope. Photos, I was going to take for group blogs I mind anyway, but the magazine, and the greater group, have different goals from mine; it's more a correspondence among friends than educational/informative, and certainly not critical, and where a gathering is covered, there's an unspoken rule the article must end with, "And a good time was had by all." I'll still select and send them the photos, no problem.

"Good Grief" Mention: apparently the brown garment has become such a problem they are going to take it down and put it on a dressmaker's dummy. Richmond was courteous enough to ask if I would mind, and no, I don't mind because it's their exhibition, but in this case, I think it's their loss. And if the makers wanted it on a dummy in the first place, they should have arranged/instructed Richmond.

"Go for It" Mention: the blue garment on the plinth, I was most definitely going to hang from the rafter, until I was instructed the shibori-pleated scarf must stand like Queen Liz I's collar. After much pondering I placed it on the plinth and propped the scarf up with a surprisingly small amount of tissue papers I could muster. I was told this morning Richmond never liked it, so they are going to bring in another dummy. In this cake, it will most definitely show off the garment much better, so they get a big happy "Go for it" from me.

Note to self: If ever I'm asked again to hang an exhibition, ask to bring in all the dummies they can corral, just in case.

How to Create a Spectacular Textile Exhibition

2011-10-08T11:52:00.001+13:00

I continue to think about what makes attractively-installed textile exhibitions. Much of what I like fall more or less into one of two categories:

A) a spectacular, often historic or architecturally-interesting, venue installed with a series of often simple, often translucent/transparent cloths. The arrangements tend to be sparse and ordered. This style enhances/transforms (the mood of) the venue more than showcase the textile. It also frequently and instantly makes one look at the venue, and the larger world, in a difference light. Though in person I've seen this style only a few times, I'm usually very partial to it. Well-planned lighting can transform this style of exhibition into entirely different shows in the evening;

B) exhibitions focusing on one or few featured pieces; sometimes the exhibitions consists only of these few pieces. Exhibited pieces are usually crafted "beyond" simple cloths, if they start from a woven cloth at all; they are either heavily enhanced/ornamented, including distressed; take the shape of reliefs or sculptures; or use new or unexpected material, such as light-conducting threads. Works can be huge or tiny. Nowadays there are many which cross over "art" and fashion; in New Zealand, WOW, which started in a paddock outside Nelson, contributed to this.

It is easier to focus on individual work in this style of exhibition; whether I like a particular exhibition or not depends on what proportion of the exhibited pieces I liked/disliked. Lighting can create great effects when skillfully employed. This style is less distinct, in that the difference between this style and the crammed, art-society style is a matter of degree; the intention to feature some pieces instead of putting all works on equal footing appears to be key.

I'm certain Category A exhibitions are designed as exhibitions first and the necessary elements created to realize the vision. Category B can go either way, and in some instances they may exhibit works of disparately created/submitted works like Creative Fibre exhibitions.

When I revisited "Area" on Wednesday, I didn't think it was any more spectacular than other Creative Fibre exhibitions I've seen. (I.e. several at the top of the South Island this side of 2006-ish, 2000 Christchurch Festival and 2005 National Exhibition in Wellington.) I can't help thinking they are more or less, well, pretty much the same. Some venues are wonderful, (Refinery's big gallery, NZ Academy of Fine Arts, Wellington among them); some are downright nasty, (sorry, but The Suter's McKee, and even Refinery's front gallery if it doesn't lead to the big gallery.)

Because of the ample space and air in big gallery, we had a lot of breathing space even during the relatively well-attended opening, (fabulous attendance considering the cats-dogs-and-monkeys rain), and we did receive great feedback about the venue. I also felt that most exhibited pieces were given nice breathing space.

How could I have made it better? For one, a uniformity of support material, i.e. dowels and fishing lines, and some kind of guideline for heights. For expedience, (and because I really didn't want to sound like a bully,) more often than not working pairs and threesomes grabbed whatever materials were nearby, and hung one piece in each area which made that piece attractive, then hung other pieces around it to create harmony in each area. (Though considering there were no set rules in these areas, I feel we made a pretty good job of it.)

Definitely the size and placement of certificates and "Do Not Touch" signs. Among other things, I don't believe in placing the latter in screamingly predominant positions, and in some cases they destroyed the negative space between exhibited pieces, but I didn't think of this until I returned on Wednesday. It may have been partly due to the person whom I believed posted the signs being exceptionally tall.

Though my personal taste veers on sparse, the most important thing I learned from this exhibition was that uniformly-sparse can be more boring than clean; ebb and flow, and quiet, meaningful pauses, if it suits the mood I want to convey, create a more memorable exhibition/experience.

As a cloth weaver who doesn't want to alter the cloth too much, what can I do to make interesting pieces to submit to exhibitions? I've been thinking about this and soliciting advice since mid-2006:

* huge or tiny, because they attract me more; I am more critical of the "normal" sized items that suit the purpose;
* something that makes the viewer look up. This is because I try to make items after studying the venues it will be installed when I can, and venues I'm most attracted to are those with high ceilings. Given time and budget, an alternative is to build something viewers can climb on, so they can look down at my piece;
* something viewers can walk/sand/sit/lie inside/though/below, or have to walk around to see the whole piece;
* piece viewers can see through, so there is the cloth/s in front, and something else (possibly another piece of textile) behind/beyond, or effective use of light and shadow;
* effective use of mirror, though this is boarding on cheating.

It's way past high time I stopped working on the list and start making something to reflect my thoughts. I'm once again thinking of a solo exhibition, some time way after "Beginnings" next October.

Have a look at some of these, and tell me what you think. More importantly, what do you like?

"Area"

2011-10-06T13:06:00.005+13:00

Andrea called me wondering if I would like to hang a textile exhibition at Refinery Art Space. It was the Nelson Marlborough Buller Area Exhibition of Creative Fibre, (read: regional exhibition of the national guild organization.) I didn't know about this exhibition because I'm not a member of Creative Fibre this year, but the host, Richmond group was looking for someone to oversee the installation.

Of course I wanted to do this. I've only ever been the top dog of an exhibition once, for my miniature exhibition, and though I voice plenty of unsolicited opinions, I've only assisted Lloyd Hardwood and Arts Council Nelson with their shows. I wanted to see if I had learned anything.

As you enter the building, this is what you see. Coincidentally those red and gray pieces in the foreground are my merchandise in the shop sitting in the usual place. Because the red leads into the exhibition, and in particular the exhibition's overall winning piece, the red and black scarf, I felt it was OK to leave them there.

The front room, especially the right half, is a dark, small space, which means we have greater control of lighting, and in person, the white lace-knit pieces take one's breath away. The catalogue numbers, certificates and "Do Not Touch" signs were put up by Richmond Group; I might have negotiated the placements of these, but I didn't think of it until I revisited the exhibition to take photos on Wednesday.

And now the left of the front gallery. Straight ahead are bags of sample fibers you are allowed to touch.

That skinny plinth is not crooked, but the floor so is. When we discovered the electric drill for holes in concrete had been put away, Ben looked for holes we could recycle to hang three pieces meant for other parts of the gallery. The placement of the large piece on the left in particular was a happy accident, as the entrance looks warmer because of it.

Moving slightly to the right, the blue piece was one of the only two pieces taking advantage of the height. The wall on the right, under my direction, looked boring, and was totally reworked by everybody else to a great result.

Turning further right, you see there is a wee corridor. Suspending the kete (woven flax baskets) was Duncan's idea and was well-received by the maker.

Turning further to the right, we transition to what is usually perceived as the main wall. The garment at the far end is suspended from the top of the partition wall. We took great care in taking advantage of the height of the gallery for this piece, completely reworking the hanging at one point, but this was the one piece the maker lodged a complaint to Richmond group.

One aspect I'm pleased about is when I went back on Wednesday, the normally ever-so prominent main wall did not look more important than other walls. For this, I give credit to the helpers who created clusters of submitted work at the beginning, and then assigned walls and areas to each.

The corridor. The big box in the corner is a permanent fixture.

As you came out of the back of the corridor, you are hit by a splash of colors. (The shadow you see in the left edge of the photo is the blue suspended piece.) This is from a traveling suitcase with an unfortunate title of "Sock it to You", not part of the Area Exhibition proper. I was informed it is a suitcase, and did not plan on it taking up a quarter of the big gallery. I was not involved in this section.

Work submitted by Marlborough Weavers can be seen here.

Even though I was on my feet for 12 hours, I had a blast. Three goals surfaced, goals I probably started formulating when I spoke to Andrea, and which I could put into words only as Ben and I staggered into the car.

1) The exhibition should aim to look like an art exhibition, not a display by a Women's Institute (not my words, surprisingly,) an old-fashioned art society, or at an Agriculture Show/State Fair; it must look attractive to people outside Creative Fibre.

2) The exhibition should invite Creative Fibre members look at their work and the exhibition as a whole with a new perspective; the exhibition must demonstrate that each piece (or as many pieces as possible) is worthy of scrutiny. I wanted my helpers, the Richmond group, and all area Creative Fibre members to feel they own the exhibition.

3) Everybody who take part in the installation should have a say, and I must be open to different aesthetics.

I think I achieved 2) observing the visitors Wednesday morning, and hopefully 3) as I left many/most decisions to the helpers. As regards 1), I believe fantastic things can be done with a bit of innovative, out-of-the-box thinking, (not my forte, though,) and without necessarily an extravagant budget. My taste is more on sparse/sterile, but I know it's not to everybody's liking; instead of making an entire exhibition look minimalist, I will learn more by studying negative spaces in exhibitions. An advantage in this venture was my intimate knowledge of the gallery, its space, its staff and its workings. In future, I shall look at exhibitions from the installation point of view more often and more closely.

* * * * *

The day we hung this exhibition was five months away from 2012 National Exhibition paperwork due date, and a year away from the planned opening of Group R's "Beginnings" exhibition.

Out of Print

2011-10-06T07:47:00.001+13:00

Trying to rest my arm, I made my way to Ben's work library and "met" a book after my own heart. It's called "The Art of the Maker: Skill and it's Meaning in Art, Craft and Design", by one Peter Dormer, Thames & Hudson, 1994. The linked obituary makes him out to be a cantankerous supporter of middle values. In the book he doesn't diss conceptual/modern/installation art, but laments the loss of skills, or what he calls "tacit knowledge" in art and craft, comparing these skills with engineering and science.

All rights are reserved, so I can't quote anything. He sound far milder in defense of craft compared to Yanagi, who he may or may not have read. I'm halfway through, but my take on this book, after reading 45/104 pages) is much gentler and more suggestive than condemnable. He uses plain language, making this an easy read for this genre, but I'm still proceeding at a old, sluggish snail's pace.

Don't rush to Amazon and such places looking to buy a copy, though. If you live near an educational insitution with an art department, their library may be your first port of call. Though published in 1994, this tiny volume (110 pages) is out of print and now fetches somewhere between 100-180 pounds on Amazon.co.uk, and I found one for NZ$300 on a NZ website I hadn't heard of.

On a rare moment of bravery, I wrote a polite email to Thames & Hudson, explaining the situation and inquiring "... if you have considered reprinting this book, on affordable paperback, or even in an electronic version. I hope so, because it is like a breath, or a blast, of fresh air in today’s concept-heavy environment."

Reply from Thames & Hudson the next morning read:

Dear Meg,
Thank you for your email. Unfortunately The Art of the Maker is out of print.
Kind regards,
Alexandra Levy

Doh! I wished I could say it's only their loss, but in this case, I insist it's bigger than that. Did he have that a bad reputation in Britain, I wonder.

Oh, Crap!

2011-10-05T08:00:00.001+13:00

I am confident of my cashmere, merino and merino-mix pieces' heavenly hand, but I was never satisfied with my cotton pieces' hand, and once in a while I take them out for walks.

Because I wanted to avoid staying home where weaving and other tasks tempt me, I walked around town a bit on two Tuesdays in a row. There were Rugby World Cup-related events in town and quite fun for people-watching.

Far left and middle pieces have 2/20 cottons in the warp at 36EPI, but the far left has 2/60 cotton in the weft, the middle has 2/20 cotton in the weft. The far left is woven more loosely, while I tend to pack in the weft in the middle.

The far right piece has 2/60 cotton in the warp and the weft, at 140EPI, and much more relaxed pick.

The far left piece has a nice-ish hand, a little "unreliable", but tolerably soft. If you are wearing overly dangly earrings, I wouldn't recommend you wear this scarf. The warp colors are dominant and the weft gives a slight hint of another hue, more noticeable when I had a series of them next to each other.

The middle is, yes, my absolute fav style to weave. It feels coarse and yucky. The scarf often gets vertical, warp-wise creases, with which you're stuck for the rest of the day. It's a good fabric, but not a nice scarf, unless you wear it under the collar of a jacket or a coat, have good posture, and aren't lugging around heavy backpacks. I think a wider shawl, say 90cms, might work; otherwise, I have to investigate how to improve on the hand. As is, at 6-inches wide and around 150-180cm long, it doesn't work for a person of my shape, posture and lifestyle.

Crap!

The far right, if you remember, was meant to be woven at around 90-96EPI, but was accidentally woven 160EPI. (Wrong reed; couldn't be bothered to resley.) This piece feels like a light raincoat fabric, and gets more vertical creases than you care to observe. Much sampling needed. But then I don't weave with 2/60 in the warp that often, so not urgent.

This piece had 2/20 cotton in the warp at 36EPI, and 2/20 as pattern and 2/60 as tabby/holding (can't remember the right word just now) weft. Because this piece was unexpectedly short, it doesn't really compare with the others, but does feel much nicer than the middle piece.

I'm very disappointed my most fav style turned out to be.... (in unison)... crap.

Remembering/Blogging

2011-10-04T10:37:00.001+13:00

The reasons I blog have changed over the years; a main one recently has been because I can't remember what I do. I have indulged in my compulsion to share, as if parts of my life will disappear, as if they never took place, unless recorded here. (And for mild-to-moderate depression, it's good therapy.)

About two weeks ago I knew my arms were much worse, and when the physiotherapist confirm it on my fourth appointment, I finally started to take the matter seriously. I accepted I won't be weaving until I get back from Japan, I won't be able to ready the garden for spring, and most urgently, I shouldn't be typing. It helped (!) that I was in sufficient amount of pain so I had to slow down, and I concentrated on things I could do with less muscle movements. And the exercises she'd given me.

Planning/designing projects has been one, (though nothing I can show you yet); reading has been another, (separate post); and I finally got around to tidying the bookshelf in my stash room. It took six hours during a torrential and thunderous Monday, but I feel as if I shed a few lawyers of old skin, and I'm ready to move on. No books were harmed in the process, but some were downgraded to the study bookshelf, while others were upgraded to the stash room. Three tall piles under the bed have disappeared and are placed in the appropriate areas of the stash room bookshelf.

I feels defragged!

I hadn't intended to go cold turkey on the blog, but that's how it happened, and I learned after about a week I wasn't too concerned about my blogging "duties"; nice to know I didn't take my life that seriously. But I've a few things to report, all in due course.

Possibility Alert!!

2011-09-24T09:45:00.002+12:00

If you took part in P2P2, or P2P for that matter, here is a chance to develop the ideas and take part in a real exhibition. And let us know if you do. (The brief stipulates you know the origin of the images you received, not the sender, but I'll leave the interpretation to you.)

And can I mention Sampling put multiple P2P2 pieces in the Royal Melbourne Show and won a prize, though she doesn't know for which piece yet. I hope she will be posting about it soon.

A Twin Separated at Birth?

2011-09-22T20:20:00.001+12:00

I wrote this post five and a half years ago. Tonight I found this photo. I thought it looked a little like my cotton Rococo series. My kindred spirit in Canada.

We're all just lifting some warps and passing wefts; I feel the invisible thread that connects us all.

They're Not as Bad as they Look

2011-09-22T19:43:00.000+12:00

Well, some days are bad, but in general these are preventive, to stop me from rushing around doing housework, gardening, and sneak-weaving. At least they slow me down. A little. And the new black one is so much more comfortable and yet restrictive, it was worth the investment.

I'm frustrated I haven't learned how to live with this, and I'm sick of being ignorant. I even reminisced that with depression the physical lethargy matches the mental, but no, this is more tolerable than that.

I went into town Tuesday so I wouldn't do much harm,and as a result I felt great yesterday and pretty much lead a normal life. Naughty. I even gardened for an hour, but by last night I was regretting that. Ben told me I cannot garden today, so I've been mapping out my projects for the foreseeable future and trying to memorize the time line; it's not just about weaving and submitting, but planning Festival-related tasks, and my Philosophy professor and the Mrs coming to visit from Minnesota in February. I haven't seen him since January 1982, I think.

I've been taking my mind out for walks to help plan what to make to submit. One of the things I had intended to revisit was Geodyne's P2P2 piece; I was most interested in the weave structure, but once I looked at the linked draft more closely, I realized the cloth is far more complex because of her weft variety/choices. Geo also directed me to this Weavezine article by Bonnie Inouye, which lead me to a pleasant afternoon in Bonnie-land. I still require multiple readings of her texts to grasp the scope of possibilities she discusses, but one of the great things about being exposed to Bonnie's thinking is I am reminded every time that, even putting aside colors and textures for a moment, there is so much I can do with threading, tie-up and treadling. And in the style of curves she discusses in the article, a foot loom (or a table loom if I can be bothered) gives so much more freedom to design as I weave. I am thinking of a sampling warp on 4-shafts to play with before I commit to a pre-planned treadling on the computer-controlled.

Quiet Weekend

2011-09-18T12:46:00.001+12:00

It's hard to imagine how many of our lives' activities involve using the hands palms down. It's an interesting existence spending the day trying to use the hands as little as possible. Yesterday, when I should/could have been reading, I stayed on the computer all day long, part of the time looking up photos of textiles, fashion, and iconic brands from Downunder. With NZ's national festival/exhibition in Blenheim and the fourth Changing Threads in Nelson on the horizon, I've been wondering if I could weave fabrics for and sew spoof versions of these most blokey of garments.

Australian Drover's Coat from Folkware Sewing Patterns. I suspect these were made of olive-colored oilskin, but wool could work, especially if I'm not constructing a proper garment.

Swanndri brand wool bush shirts with hood; my understanding is, the red and black check is the most iconic.

Just a thought. I'll have to practice sewing with wool, especially if I have to match checks, and before that, I'd like to make Ben's Happi.

Friday that Was

2011-09-16T20:01:00.001+12:00

At Lunch, Ronette told us she subscribed to Australia's Craft International magazine years ago when it first started.

Meg: "Oh, yes, Australian Craft International! Or Craft Magazine from the British Craft Council. They'd be my first choices..."

Ronette: "To have your work shown in?"

Meg: "Ah, well... I was going to say... if I were to win a year's subscription."

I guess you had to be there.

* * * * *

Not good news at the physiotherapist. I am definitely overusing the arms and they are inflamed. I'm now allowed between five to ten minutes of weaving, weeding, anything. And typing, not good.

:-<

* * * * *

I thought I should add we banter a lot, so Ronette's suggestion of trying to get my work on either of these magazines are not serious.

2011-09-15T12:44:00.001+12:00

Two-navy (not indigo) Log Cabin warp. The difference in the colors are slight but sometimes I can see it, and anyone could definitely feel it.

Not weaving today - I think I overdid it a little yesterday. Maybe just one session in the late afternoon.

A Slice

2011-09-15T10:18:00.000+12:00

of life, that is.

I don't court confrontations and controversies, certainly not here, but I know I end up doing so from time to time. I've hidden the original post, the one before last, and edited the last post.

I apologize for any hurt caused. But I stand by my bewilderment of finding my photos in places I wasn't aware of, and will continue to consider the risks/benefits of Internet existence in general and posting of weaving and drafts pictures in particular.

And I stopped apologizing for freaking out from time to time some years ago. That's also what I do. And I know some of you get a bit of a laugh from it. That's fine, too.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

2011-09-14T21:53:00.003+12:00

A friend who is in arts has been sick of life in arts; she reckons it shouldn't be so hard. For some months/years, we cooked up ways for her to generate exposure and income, and in the past we had fun because many of what we discussed could apply to me. But her recent sense of entitlement is making me bored. I feel guilty I'm married to man with a day job, who is OK with me doing what I do; I feel she always leaves me with homework even though that's not her intention; I feel terrible when my ideas don't work, even though she doesn't try most of them. And it's not like she hasn't had success.

I know it's a lot to do with my perception and projection. I complain about my "career", too, but I don't really mean it because I don't try hard enough to deserve to complain. Sometimes it helps to complain to just get it out, and sometimes by exploring what I'm complaining about, I find new ways to work, or market my work.

There is one thing I learned from our discussions; we can't afford to wait to be "discovered" because nobody has as big a stake in our careers as ourselves, and when it really gets too hard, it's time to get out. I can't believe I said it out loud the last time I saw her. I'm glad I'm in it for the inherent joy of making. Even if I don't sound like it here sometimes.

* * * * *

So, it is possible to weave a scarf in 15-minute increments. It took some time, but I wove the last of the two-teal Log Cabin piece this week. And considering I sometimes stay away from looms for months, it was a great lesson; I should weave every single day, even if for 15 minutes.

At the end of the teal warp I knew I had another Log Cabin warp but I couldn't remember what colors; it turns out this is a handsome two-navy warp, but it's even harder to see the color difference. I'll see if I can shoot it in daylight.

* * * * *

Every so often I want to chuck in everything on the Internet and be the hermit weaver I once wanted to be. I did for quite a while. But I don't delete everything because: 1) I would miss your friendship/our camaraderie, 2) I live in a small place and I feel I might get swallowed into the ground/wave/ether if I'm not on the Internet, and 3) I don't have the guts.

On Monday I discovered Google Image Ripper; "discovered" because I probably heard of it before but in the most general way; I didn't think it would concern me specifically. But my heart skipped a beat when actually saw my pics and realized how unprotected my photos were.

Then today I came across Pracownia's closed blog, and I thought I was getting too old for this, that I don't want to spend so much time learning new Internet things, that I'd rather be weaving. It's probably the same way Mom felt 10 years ago when she decided against having a computer and Internet; she'd chose to use the time to weave one more piece. Besides, if we're talking about the bottom line, I've never generated a sale from the Internet.

I'll let you know if/when I decide to disappear, but it's not likely to happen any time soon. But you know how things happen in threes? Notice it's only Wednesday night here, so there's still time for one more Internet freak-out this week.

Yay! Not.

* * * * *

Screen print of trying to access a closed blog: the email address was my usual one, but you get the picture; there's no links or clue.

A ha!

2011-09-13T15:28:00.001+12:00

I'm getting better at being the owners of two bung arms. I can weave in 15 minutes increments, though it is still very trying. I look for tasks I think won't require the use of my thumbs, and on the way I've been doing lots of odd jobs I've neglected, plus gradually tidying my stash room, and having enough presence of mind to think of the office bookshelf as well. (There has been no logic as to why some books are here, or over there, and the situation requires a solution.) I even managed an hour of gardening this morning, slowly and inefficiently, but at our place, any work outside helps.

Just before coming inside, I was putting a few firewood into these boxes - I drag them across the floor now instead of carrying wood to the living room. It's been a warm winter interspersed with freakish winter weather, and the last couple of weeks, totally spring-y except for the last couple of days. I even heard the word "snow" but that's further south. Anyhoo, I noticed I was lifting a rather large piece of wood with my left hand exactly in the manner that got me where, so I dropped that, lifted it with my arm, and come inside.

Somewhere between the garden and the shower, I had a light bulb moment. I seldom recycle weaving drafts, not even the "Rococo" ones; I never reuse a commission piece draft, and only ever recycled one from an exhibition. That I remember. Although my favorite, Tapa, was designed for and submitted to the biggest exhibition I participated in so far, Re:Fine in Wellington, it didn't make it there nor in the smaller Re:Fine in Nelson.

This morning, I thought I'd like to weave it again. I have two versions of it, and I don't know if I'll just use one or both, or rework the basic idea, but I think it suits Group R's exhibition title, "Beginnings", because New Zealand is where I started weaving. Something Japanese, something Minnesotan, and something Pacific? I'm going to be busy!

It's Good to be a Weaver

2011-09-11T17:11:00.004+12:00

Goodness gracious me, what a difference a day makes, indeed. I wrote most of the Mumbling post yesterday, so it's been around 24.5 hours since I decided to forgo the perceived, prescribed methods of designing. "My Ego", though boisterous, isn't steadfast nor patient, so I didn't battle or convince it, and it didn't try to blackmail me with guilt.

I feel like my old self, listening to Telemann, weaving (in two lots of 15 minutes only) Log Cabin, exercising and winding Mom's weft in between, ruminating on my inevitable cloth. What a life.

Earlier in the day I spoke to Ronette about something else, but inevitably our conversation turned to textiles, and I caught myself referencing in my mind my Like/Make list.

I think when you allow yourself to be yourself, things have an easier time falling into place. And we're coming to a lovely end of a gray and rainy but good weekend.

Later.

The Origin of my Fondness for Chornological Order??

2011-09-11T11:35:00.001+12:00

Towards the end of my college life, I took a course in Multicultural Communication, and there I learned the different systems of thinking and presentation. In the Western world, according to one textbook, the most respected approach was conclusion/s first, then details/examples. In Japan, details/anecdotes/chronology, were followed by conclusion, often approved beforehand by general consensus. Most interesting was the Arab way, which was similar to a vortex of reasons and arguments at the bottom of which was the big conclusion. I know it's oversimplifying, but I found this fascinating.

As far as my experiences go, the author was right about Japan, and this is why I ran into so much trouble while I worked in there; older men called me "Miss No Smalltalk" because I hated wasting time at work and went straight to the point. In my old age, though, I'm so mindful of how I operate I don't know when to stop the smalltalk sometimes.

Most helpful was when I worked at the Syrian Embassy in Tokyo as a translator. (English/French/Japanese - they didn't want me learning Arab.) When the diplomats tried to explain something, the background information was presented in a spiral fashion; this was more noticeable with the older men. When things got repetitive, I'd picture a 60's psychedelic black and white spiral and it actually helped me remember his main points. And in that light, our ambassador was a very good orator. And, no, my French was never that good, but the wee bit I had came in handy.

I also think it's the processes of weaving that makes me think chronologically, because I didn't automatically fall into this world view pre-weaving. It's not a problem, as systems go, but I need to train to think more concisely.

Cognitive Mumbling Spilling onto a Veritual Page

2011-09-11T11:24:00.000+12:00

I've always had terrible memory, and blamed that for writing almost always chronologically, getting bogged down on the order and long-winded, and loosing the plot. This morning I think it's also connected to my inability to prioritize this side of "The Changes". So I'll try a new approach, by topic.

(Not) Reading
Struggling with Field's Collapse Weave book, as I always have with her writing, I flipped through the pages knowing I should persevere and gain useful knowledge, but I get so bored. While looking at the photos I thought, "what is wrong with just making pretty cloths?"

I picked up Germano Celant's Louise Bourgeois: The Fabric Works at Ben's work's library, and after flipping through the book and looking at the images three or four times, I started reading the first bits. I know there is much informative information in coffee table books; I almost never read them, but the start is often quotable.

Celant wrote, "The lives and adventures of artists are traced by what they leave behind them: marks and tracks scattered over the terrain of images. It is on the basis of this set of imprints and fragments left over the course of time, in different spaces, that observers can read an account and a story 'written' by the human being who has used different and varied materials to reflect her vision as well as existence."

I don't necessary agree with "different and varied materials", but I like it. (And then he ruined it by going on for 12 more pages and lost me completely.) As my eyes glazed over the text, then flitted from the middle of the book to the end to the start and back to the middle, I felt a thought forming.

Bourgeois is definitely, among other things, a textile artist. She had ideas and concepts and only used cloth, and so much more. I like some of her work, and dislike others; I am interested in some of her thoughts/ideas/stories, but not others. But I sense she had irrepressible "stuff" she needed to express.

Whereas I love making pretty cloth. For me, the end product is paramount, and therefore the technique that makes it. I can tell you, or even cook up, a story about a piece or series if you ask, but it's the "stuff" that counts, for me the maker, in my life of making. And so why should I waste any more time with "art" considerations unless I enjoy them intrinsically; the "art" stuff was always further removed from my weaving than I imagined.

Which is at once a big relief because I can focus on things I enjoy, but a little disappointing for My Ego because it reduces even further the chances of being invited to "art" exhibitions, or respectable art institutions adding my piece to their collection. (Since I did The Artist's Way in 2001, I have on my list of aspirations art institutions buying my pieces as part of their collection; a couple in Nelson and one in Minneapolis. But then I wrote a while back - but can't find that post - I've not made an "art" piece yet, so "My Ego" hasn't lost any opportunities yet. As to feeling threatened about not having been to art school and compelled to try to "catch up", or guilty about not "doing things the right/prescribed way", I'm considering the possibility that's just "My Ego" seducing me to procrastinate the real making.)

I'm not a complicated person. My heart skips a few beats when I see nice Jacquard-esque curtain and upholstery fabrics. I don't express/demonstrate/question though my cloth. Which ties in with my reflection earlier this week of feeling overburdened by difficulties I have in reading/understanding/learning.

I kept picturing my mom tapping her head with her fist, repeating, "Stupid, stupid, stupid," all too often, and I felt sorry for her for being stupid. (Mom said it, so it must be true, yes?) Regardless of how her mind works, I have an inability for certain types of learning, (which I sense has a lot to do with impatience,) and it's getting worse as I get older. And totally bought into Dad's dogged conviction if I apply myself I can do anything, so until I can do something, I'm slaking off. (Dad said it, so it must be true, right?)

Controlled Chaos
When I reorganized my Stash/Design Room two years ago I knew I didn't have enough space in my bookshelf and I had too much junk in the records/notebook area. I had this task in the too-tedious basket until Monday, when I looked for "work" that's not weaving. By tackling my so called Diaries, which are not much more than paste/scribble books, which I started keeping in August 2011, I've freed up one and one-third shelves, and I feel emotionally cleansed. I still have folders and binders to go through but this has been an uplifting exercise, and I know it's imbued in the decision to throwing out "art" from my weaving, at least for the foreseeable future.

And I have found few memorable bits, the top prize going to this.

Criteria D, the origin of my art/craft conundrum. I think the organizers meant this as a textile art exhibition as a whole, and what's submitted as garments cannot be just a rectangle, but I'm clouded by prejudice and I still can't make sense of their intentions. (Click for a larger view.)

Drawing
A very good friend was the model this week. I've befriended some of our class's models, and acquaintances popped up as models, but never a good friend. I knew it wouldn't be a problem, but I didn't expect such hilarity: when she stood naked in front of me for the first time, I couldn't stop thinking I never noticed she had such a thin upper lip. Especially from the side. While I was trying to draw, my mind kelp replaying all the times she sat on my couch and we sipped Earl and Lady Gray tea and laughed.

The Arm(s)
I was sick most of the week and I spent a great part in bed sleeping. Other then when I was culling my notebook pages. It turned out to be a good thing because my physiotherapist said the muscles are nowhere as nearly as tense as last week. So I must be careful again this week; weaving, weeding, anything in 15 minutes increments.

Physiotherapy and Bourgeois made me more aware I would like to take better care of my health, and especially of my limbs, because I'm 53 and a half, and if I've only decided that I want to make warps and warps of "pretty" cloth, I need about 40 years to get good at it. And to that end, I really need to exercise more.

* * * * *

Louise Bourgeois
on Wiki
Google images (Warning: quite a few genitalia.)

Spotted Around Town

2011-09-10T16:23:00.000+12:00

Lichen on trees in the park in front of Nelson Hospital. See towards top right?

I don't know if the yellow bits fall off or turn into the pale limy its. I don't know what the black dots are, and don't remember what three this was.

A tree with scales. A different tree in front of the Nelson Courthouse. It's big and wide and lovely from a distance, but it looks very healthy.

Reset

2011-09-05T11:20:00.001+12:00

The structure of loom-weaving is simple; the warp is either up or down, which causes the weft to be either below or above. So cloth can be expressed in binary, though we would probably prefer it in color.

In weaving, the weavers must follow sequential steps; in this respect it is similar to, as far as I understand, ceramics or bronze casting. But any given step is not complex, far less so than cooking or driving.

Weaving can be time-consuming in as much as the preparations/steps prior to the actually weaving can be perceived as, well, long.

There are two characteristics of weaving that make it, to me, stand out from other art/craft techniques I've observed:

1) The basic premise/unit of weaving is grids. Whilst it is possible to make pictures in weaving, these pictures are made up of squares, or pixels if you like, and not "freehand".

2) The main part of loom-weaving, the weaving, is mechanical and repetitive. This may contradict perceptions/definitions of "making art" in that it is not, again for want of a better term, "freehand".

Which make weaving all the more attractive to this inside-the-box/happy-within-the-boundary maker.

After speaking to Cally last night, and reflecting on the Group R exhibition (working?) title of "Beginnings", I felt like going back to the start.

Since

2011-09-04T16:14:00.001+12:00

Yes, since I posted my P2P2 bit at 5.59PM Wednesday, life has been moving on pretty quickly.

I was in quite a bad shape by the time I finished typing my post, and I envisioned having "braces", (which I finally remembered are called "splints",) on both arms by Thursday morning. Andrea threatened me to nag until I made an appointment with a particular physiotherapist, and I didn't dither.

Ben came home at 6.13PM and handed me a parcel; it was a surprise from Cally containing her second Varanasi-inspired towel, and a card. It was such a lovely surprise, but I tell you, her towel is so soft it made me ponder showing/looking at/buying/selling textiles on the Internet, again. It just doesn't work for me unless I can bury my face in it. As well, the Wild Ruin Navajo Weaving design, simplified, would render easily to scarf weaving, though I would have the diamonds raining down warp-wise and perhaps work it achromatically. Inspirations are everywhere.

Thursday came and I limped over to the physio, who pinpointed the cause and source of pain, and gave me a few exercises to do at home, with two printed sheets as reminders. I remember two well, but I have to look at the sheets for the rest. But she said I could weave 15 minutes at a time, (didn't say how many times a day,) so I am aiming for up to an hour a day soon.

I stopped by at the Suter to tell Andrea I had gone to see the physiotherapist, and I think Andrea was mildly surprised because I usually think about these things a long time and often deciding against them. And by then I wasn't in enough pain to buy another splint for the right arm. I went to the Red Gallery because the cafe now has (free?) Wifi and I wanted to update P2P2 links; once there, I ran into Jo and Ronnie of Group R, so we spent discussing the Monday meeting instead.

After lunch with Ben, I went somewhere else to do the P2P2 link, and then walked around town looking for gifts for the upcoming trip home. Men and boys remain difficult, (and the older the boys get, the harder, because I have no idea what electronic things they enjoy!)

I went into the bookshop and saw Anne Field's Collapse Weave on sale; I flipped through and looked at the pictures and left it at that. It's one of those things I know a lot of folks tried, but until I see a truly lovely example, I'm seldom interested in what's in vogue; ditto big-loop mohair yarns, cotton/rayon chenilles, warp-painting, woven shibori, felting, and recently; eco-dyeing. I take my hats off to those who think of them first or resurrect old techniques, but so many pieces look the same as what's in Handwoven, and I'm too stubborn to learn a technique or material unless I can see, or at least sense, a way for me to use it differently. Well, that's the theory.

I was happy to get my hands on a visual diary with black pages, though; I have been intrigued by them for a long time but couldn't think of how I would use them. Then in the last year or so as I've become more comfortable drawing on black paper, nobody stocked those sketchbooks, or I was always missing htem. Now they are back, and I look forward to doodling with white, silver, gold, and other gel pens. Oh, and I bought a bag full of weird and funky stationary supplies for nephews and niece; erasable highlighters, ball point pens that look like wooden pencils with an erase at the end, etc, etc., etc. If they don't like them, their mothers will! And 5-year-old niece gets the same stuff as her fav cousins, 10 and 15, which is always a bonus.

Friday I had drawing, and then hung out with Ben the whole afternoon; he has to have his eyes photographed every two years for his diabetes, and he is administered drops to open his pupils; he can't focus, can't read, and certainly can't drive for several hours, so we spent the afternoon walking everywhere. It wasn't nice, though, how sunny it was on Friday, when Thursday was dark and cold and for Ben's eyes, it would have been more comfortable.

Saturday I was tired. We dropped off the unsure scarf, got groceries, went to another bookshop, and came home. I was exhausted, and after lunch I crawled into bed with my laptop and book. In the evening, we watched one silly movie; I wanted to go to bed and read but Ben wanted to watch a 1963 Bond movie, so I stuck around Googling images and came across this artist.

Group R's exhibition is now 12 months and 26 days to installation, and I'm trying to think big, and suddenly I thought knowing collapse weave may help. I'm not sure what I'm going to make yet, but I want to make something big and I've been listing techniques where structure/design-interest can be seen from some distance, as well as close up, especially when the viewer stands right up close to the work and looks up. So today we went back and got the Field book.

And another thing. Cally and I are going to Skype tonight. Not exactly sure how we came about, but it was definitely me who suggested it, so I should pretty up a bit in the next six hours, (as if!,) and perhaps list things I would like to discuss. I've only Skyped three times before and the first two times I didn't have a laptop with a camera so I could see them but they not me. This time Cally can see me, and... we'll see how that goes!

P2P2: The Big Reveal

2011-09-01T00:00:00.014+12:00

The Reveal

Esmae     Shirley     Kaz     Amanda     Cally    Terri

Holly     Sandy    Sampling     Michelle    Geodyne    Desirée

Julie     Heidi     Judy Alienore     Meg

(Very sadly, Cindy had to withdraw from the Challenge halfway.)

The Journey

Cally    Geodyne      Judy     Holly      Heidi     Sandy

Shirley     Alienore     Cindy      Julie     Chewiedox     Sampling

Amanda     Michelle      Desirée     Kaz      Terri      Esmae     Meg

The Brief

What Next?

2011-08-31T20:00:00.001+12:00

With P2P2 over and now both arms tingling and bunged up, I can describe, in three ways, how I'm feeling just now.

Yesterday morning, as I finally decided what I could show you in the Big Reveal, we had spectacularly thick fog in Nelson. We get this about three times a year, and I like it, but it was symbolic. I was certain the bay and the town and the hills beyond still existed, but I couldn't see them.

Now imagine a previously caged animal pacing in circles after it has been released into a facsimile natural habitat. If you are old enough to remember tiny concrete-and-metal cages in zoos, you get the picture. The whole "design" experience finds me restricted in my own invisible cage, and I now know there is a big world out there, but I haven't found a way to stop pacing in circles.

And a quote I found in Julia Cameron's "Walking in This World", which strangely always gives me much comfort: "It's like driving a car at night. You never see further than your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way." E. L. Doctorow.

* * * * *

I'm relieved once again I managed to finish my bit of a project almost just in time, a project I started and hosted; I'm still horrible like that. The thought of looking at everybody's results is exhilarating, but then I always feel a little sad when the temporary merry band of weavers, well, disband.

* * * * *

In two months, we're off to three weeks of family time in Japan. Yesterday morning, I realized in the shower there is a chance I won't be able to weave before I leave. I'll get over it. Soon. I know how to entertain myself. I've a physiotherapist appointment at 10.15 this morning.

If I leave cryptic comments or send you phone-text like emails, please forgive me. I've really been naughty.

P2P2: Mine

2011-08-31T18:00:00.002+12:00

Bung arm prevented me from weaving a piece this year, so I'd like to show you some hypothetical projects, and reflect on what I got out of P2P2 this year, which was considerable. Here are the pictures I received from Amanda, and I worked primarily with the canoe and Grand Canyon photos.

Hypothetical Projects
I'm still reluctant to go down the ornamental/non-utilitarian track, but this has been a fun mental exercise, perhaps because I know I don't have to weave them if I don't want to.

Rotating Postcard - Mini
Either in tapestry or inlay, probably in wool, woven on its side with start and finish stitched together to create a loop. If inlay, the color background will be in blocks of some sort, and the black outlines in inlay. Both sides will be postcard size, but the cloth can be rotated/spun so viewers can crop the picture as they please, or flip it to view the B side.

Proportion is paramount; not only the width and height of the the postcard you can see at one point, but also the circumference of the supports at both sides and the width of the black outline requires scrutiny. The design continuity at the seam is also important. If I can think of a way to work inlay in the "bottom" layer while weaving a tube on the loom, that would be a handy technique in controlling the color-background area with ease, but I can't envisage this at this point.

Rotating Postcard - Grande
Same idea, but a larger form on the floor, possibly with three or four posts/faces. How to hold it standing upright is a technical challenge. Proportion is paramount, and not having any experience with big pieces, but just in my head, I'd like the bottom of the piece to be around 70-90cm off the floor, and the top of the piece to be around, say, 180-200cm from the floor.

From here, sky is the limit; indoor and/or public space partitions/enclosures, backs of chairs, tubular table clothes, elastic waist skirts, etc., etc., etc., in various suitable materials.

Tube/s
Same idea, but taller and hung, and viewers can change perspectives and get different (or "moving) pictures they walk around it. There can also be multiple tubes hung close together to create a bigger picture.

A Mural in Pieces
Small units of uniform or diverse sizes and shapes to make up a big picture. I envisage tapestry technique, but it can be anything. Here I kept the units in their original rows, but swapped the horizontal positions somewhat.

Mural
I come back to this: I like where I arrived in manipulating the images, even though I can see it can also be abstracted or cropped further, and I can see this as a long mural in tapestry or rug technique in a public space. Because I've seen Melbourne (Australia) Airport's tapestries, I first thought of an airport in Arizona somewhere, but any municipal/civic building would do; courthouse, libraries, schools. Would anyone like to get started?

(I can't find the pictures of the Melbourne Airport tapestries; can anyone suggest a good link? This is the organization that worked on it, and you can visit them; Mom spent a lovely day in 2000.)

Reject
Don't like it hanging from a thread, nor poking out of a stick. To me this is where it becomes about the thing and not about the cloth.

And Then...
This is the image I can imagine me working on to to turn into utilitarian cloth, with much more abstraction/simplification. I can't see what kind of a "design" I want to extract from it, but I imagine using very fine silk or mercerized cotton, in really finicky tied weaves, possibly in combination with inlay or other hand-manipulated technique. I might even need a loom with gazillion shafts. Or Pat might turn it into a tapestry for me.

And we can see this idea popping up in my Rococo-inspired series, yes?

What I Learned
I love design studies, and enjoy experiments. More so now, because I don't feel as disgruntled that collage and other paper play can be time-consuming. I used to think between hours battling paper, scissors and glue, and experimenting on the loom, my time was better spent on the loom, but now I see these experimentations are different beasts and I should use whichever meets my purpose at the time.

I've always enjoyed design studies but never really saw the connection between what I do here and what I weave. I now have some clues:

1) This is not rare among cloth weavers; from time to time we discover gaps in our process or are told we move onto materials and structures too early, by teachers who are sometimes not art practitioners or cloth weavers. Loom weaving entail structure and pattern/repetition. and we can't avoid having these concerns at the backs of our minds, but I'm going to try to delay thinking about specifics.

2) I like to show the cloth I make, and not express opinions/concepts/shapes/pictures using cloth and certainly not "put myself out there." This precludes some viable ideas early on; again, I'll try to keep an open mind for a bit longer.

In others' work, I love when ideas are developed far enough so the resultant work doesn't resemble the original images/ideas; it's like a secret or an inside joke. With my own, this distance feels bad if viewers can no longer identify the original picture/idea, so I've always subconsciously stopped before an idea became visually remote.

With this round of P2P2, I feel I've managed to be a bit more adventurous than before, but I also see possibilities of taking what I've done further, in the first instance cropping and/or simplifying the overlapping printed strips, (which I call "cuffs",) further. I was mindful of stopping midway, but only because I really liked the delicate outlines superimposed on blotchy bold colors, and I was not-so-secretly pleased with myself I pushed myself even this far.

Relating to 2) above, I may be more interested in technical possibilities and in the actual making than making "art", in which case I don't have to worry about the prescribed design processes. This view is becoming more attractive as a) I can spend the rest of my life catching up with someone else's definition of art (as opposed to craft, I guess,) but it's forever going to be a moving target, and b) when my time comes and I have to leave this world, it's the body of work, the cloth, I want to leave behind and not the notes/processes/thoughts. In fact, leaving someone to ponder how I came to make a certain piece has always been one of my... goal. While I'll never stop studying, I need to decide what concerns I'm willing to shed, and what goals I hold dear.

Thank you, Amanda, for your delicious Arizona photos. Thank you, participants, for joining me in the journey. And thank you, readers, for sticking with us and cheering us on.

Yeah... Not Sure...

2011-08-31T08:39:00.001+12:00

"City Light", the art-swap piece.

There is much to practice and improve as regards using cashmere on the big loom. One relatively easy solution is to use only the cashmere/silk mix in the warp, instead of the foamy 100% yarns. The tension I'm willing to place these soft 100% yarns is tentative at best, which presents great problems in the (un)eveness of beating, which is not my forte at the best of times.

I had two floating selvedge outside this draft, which proved ugly and scalloped in places.

(The selvedge looks worse in the reverse side. I think I need to study how the interlacements at the sides of pieces are arranged, and change the treatment accordingly.)

The texture of the cloth is a denser version of my spongy cashmeres, and if I may say so myself, dreamy. In this regard, this is a great success.

I might have woven another one had my arm allowed me to, and changed the selvedge setup, possibly.

* * * * *

For about a week I've been resigned to not being able to weave anything for P2P2 and was clueless as to what to show in the final reveal instead. Some mindless collaging did the trick, I think. I got some vague ideas last night. I hope I have something worthwhile to show you.

Cloths I Like and Cloths I Make

2011-08-30T11:27:00.004+12:00

There are types/styles of cloths I love/admire, and then cloths I like to make, and they don't necessarily overlap. Because I often speak in hyperbole, I'm often mistaken to like only the types I make.

I love, but for now can't working with, or may never want to work with:

* All my life I've been smitten by old-fashioned Jacquard; think drapes and upholsteries in European castles and palaces. If I can get my hands on a loom, I would in a snap.
* Textured cloth; I love smart use of boucles, sometimes the different shrinkage pieces and woven pleats.
* Hand-manipulated techniques on the loom.
* Well-executed plain weave, but I'm super fussy about them. And I can't define what makes it "well-executed", because some have been accidental, or just nicely-aged.
* Embroidered work; I'm a real sucker for embroidery and beading, particularly old-fashioned motifs, especially florals or work in one color.
* Cut-lace work and tatting.
* Braids and tassels as embellishments to cloth, but not on their own.
* Interestingly dyed cloth: Ikat, warp-paints, shibori; intentional or accidental. Ikat is deeply in the "Thank goodness someone does it" group.
* Tapestry weaving. Seriously, "Thank goodness someone does it" territory.
* Quilts; I'm a real sucker for quilts. But not Afghan blankets. (Afghans are cookies in New Zealand.)
* Crocheted- and bobbin-laces to some extent.
* Some felt work, but I'm fussy about them.
* Occasional mixed media work, depend often on color schemes and subjects, but I don't see them as textiles.

I love to make:

* Smooth cloth/flat cloth/some shiny cloth as in using silk, mohair.
* Cloth of textural interest but still relatively flat, e.g. merino-with-scale warp and merino/mohair weft, which could be interpreted as cloth with great contrast in the sheen. Sheen can also be created with color combination, e.g. my gold yellow mercerized cotton with teals, pale blues and pale greens.
* Cloth with weave-structure interest.
* Deceptively simple/deceptively complicated cloth. This includes the cluster of structures that appear three-dimensional because of the use of colors, e.g. A-B-A-B.
* Cloth in analogous colors.
* Gray, navy blue, purple, red or orange cloth or cloth with gold yellow in it.
* Color changes through supplementary warps and wefts; warps changing shafts mid-cloth.
* Also like learning about or looking at pattern making, book binding and basket weaving, but have never done much beyond learning/looking.

And something that moved from the first category to the second:

* Cloth with many colors, including, complementary colors.

Goodness, I often wonder why I like certain things but wouldn't want to make them, but never listed them up like this before. (Yes, permit me to insert the phrase of the week.) Gosh, darn.

Do you have this... discrepancy? Do you have a list of textiles you like somewhere I can read?

EDIT: I've had this mental list for as long as I have been weaving, but I decided to finally "write" it down in response to Ronnie's "Why?" questions to my rapid-fire "Yes, no, yes, no, no, no." calls on what I will allow myself to do, in this instance how textiles were hung. By making the list, I found out I like to make pretty cloth and show the cloth, and not create something else, (e.g. sculptures,) using cloth to express/show something else. So, the cloth is not (a) vehicle/tool/material/incidental for/to me, but the end product.

Verdict

2011-08-30T10:41:00.001+12:00

Tennis elbow, ladies and gents. Mild up-and-down exercise required; if it doesn't get any better in a fortnight, I should go see a physiotherapist. Heat (athlete's) creams/gels are good, too. I'm trying to remember how the hand moves when using stick shuttles.

I'm feeling disgruntled because remember I was disappointed with my output (or lack thereof) of woven pieces during my term away from drawing, and I thought my mood was going downhill a while ago? I thought I had overcome both smoothly by weaving. And I guess I do measure my productivity by how many pieces/centimeters I actually manage to weave on the loom. I was on a roll, I thought, when I lost the use of my left opposable thumb two Wednesdays ago.

Gosh, darn.

Plus hey fever season started last week; I've been holding off taking my pills because when I do, I have to stop drinking St John's Wort tea, which is the best mood booster, and strongly recommended by my previous and current GPs.

Gosh, darn.

Not to mention every day except one has been should-a/could-a/would-a gardening weather these two weeks.

Gosh, gosh; darn, darn.

Group R

2011-08-29T17:37:00.005+12:00

The Group met at my house today, and I didn't realize since last meeting, we had an official name; it's "R". It originated in the story of red threads in Japan, which I totally forgot until I read Elaine Lipson's first blog post, (couldn't find exactly where she told the story,) and members liked my retelling it. "R" also means "are", as we are, and constantly changing as we continue to exist and make. Something like that.

We discussed some specifics about our October 2012 exhibition, and I've been allowed to organize the after-Opening dinner party! Woo hoo!

Since Pat brought it up, I showed and talked what I've done with P2P2 so far, which got us stuck into my conundrum of what is weaving vs enhancements/additions, and why I choose to restrict/work-within-the-rules-of loom/cloth weaving. Ronnie, who teaches design among other things, had lots of pertinent comments and questions for me, but I got lost because I've become set in my ways, more in my thinking than in my practice. I need to recap, for myself. Because my opinions have taken shape over many years and when we discuss these, I don't always remember why I've come to think one way or another.

The Making
I'd like to make unadorned cloths to have included in exhibitions; not felted, embroidered, cut up, sewn, quilted, and often not even painted, Ikat-dyed or overdyed. The naked cloth, as it were. (But after today's meeting, I have to examine which methods/styles of installation I feel is acceptable as I noticed conflicting/hypocritical ideas I have.)

My Experiences with Exhibition Briefs
The reason why I've come to want to make the naked cloth originated in the very first exhibition brief I requested. It was for a textile art exhibition called something like "Fibre Fantasia", held in Marlborough, New Zealand, from around 2004 or 05, and it stated specifically that submissions could not be just "a woven square or rectangle." (I do wish I had kept it; it was the year the theme was either "fire" or "flame". Does anyone have it?) I walked around the house my jaw dropped for an entire afternoon.

Then in the first "Changing Threads" brief, contained something like "using traditional techniques to express concepts in a contemporary manner," which to me meant the same. And I was furious at the first two years of that show as there were many, many pretty pieces, which to me didn't contain a whole heck of a lot of concepts. I could have made something pretty!

If you follow the briefs strictly, (and I do, because I attended a Convent School, am Japanese, and was raised by strict parents, so I always read the rules to avoid being scolded!) there are very few places "just a woven square or rectangle" can be exhibited except guild exhibitions or one's own. Many exhibitions I've looked into call themselves "textile art" exhibitions, but then they specify in their briefs embroidery, (art) quilt, etc. But now I'm preaching to the choir.

What I pick up from reading/discussing "art"
Art is more valuable than craft, and what separates the two is "concept" or "intention". My interpretation of "concept", then, is to do the "design process" taught by whoever teaches them. I enjoy these, but the "process" never ties in with the sort of cloth I want to make. Not really. I like to make pretty cloth.

Wanting to be called an artist is ego, I think. I value craftsmanship; technical expertise is very important to me, but in the West, "craft", I feel, is viewed so much inferior to art. Whereas I come from a place where craft is more respected than non-utilitarian art.

Additionally
I've talked about the contempt I feel about my work after it's done in the past. I've often wondered if it's more artist-ly to feel less detached from one makes; I don't think I ever feel vulnerable about showing what I make, because I'm never "putting myself out there", just showing you what I made. And instead, I see all the flaws in my work, as well as the good bits, and feel slightly disgusted about the pieces and therefore my incompetence. I'd like to feel a little more ... involved, or even sentimental (?) about what I make. And I've been told by many that this feeling would emerge from the design process.

Ronnie's Observations
1. Is there something I want to say/express through my pieces? If so, does that come through my finished design/piece?
2. Perhaps I'm more into the making and not so much in the expression. Why do I think that's not as valid?
3. Looking at the material I accumulated so far for P2P2, there is a gap or a skip, and I need to bridge the gap.

My Response for Now
1. No, I guess I have nothing to say through my pieces. I just want to make pretty cloth.
2. Never thought of it that way. My ego now says "expression" is art, being into the making is "craft"; if this is the case, it's my ego getting in the way; I want to be in the top class, not a second- or third-class citizen. And then theres is the small matter of the time/labor required to weave, which makes me feel weaving isn't just mass-producing, say, coffee mugs from the same mold, and all my pieces are one-offs.
3. This is a point I didn't understand but we ran out of time so I couldn't find out more. If she's observing where my design process ends and where my weaving starts, yes, there is a big gap, but this wasn't what she was responding to, so I need to find out more.

* * * * *

The matter of the fiber artist who felt excluded was discussed as well, and I find it strange to find myself on the "excluding" side as one of the original three who proposed starting the group. Because I thought I was always trying to be as inclusive as possible. Obviously, effectively, not so in this case.

* * * * *

I'm so glad we finally have a name, which they tell me we had since the last meeting. Anyway, "The Group" is the name of a very famous group of painters (and possibly sculptors) from before WWII in Christchurch/Canterbury, and I never intended to copy or liken us to them, but it was the only name I could think of until we had something. Phew.

Life Going On

2011-08-28T17:34:00.002+12:00

I am a bad, impatient patient; I have been using my hands and the left one hurts unless I have the "brace" on. Naughty.

Thursday I spent over seven hours on Marlborough Weavers and Festival blogs, including editing something like 100 or 200 photos from last November. I was thinking how hard it is to work with groups and what a difficult staff/volunteer I am.

Friday, drawing, spent some time with Ronette, and then with Kath. I've had a lot to ponder about friendship.

Weekend, I as supposed to garden a bit and work on P2P2, but my arm hurts and I feel restless, so I've done a little bit of housework, finished five cashmere scarves, and read a bit. And played much too much simple computer games with my right hand.

Four cashmere Log Cabin merchandises. Two teals in the warp; indigos, teals and purples in the weft; all eight weft yarns are different from each other. I have warp left for one more scarf in this color scheme, and for five more in a color scheme I can't even remember; possibly two indigos/navies.

Analogous Log Cabin makes easy fashion items, but are mindless and boring to weave, and at times impossible to see. After I weave the six waiting to be woven on the loom now, I'm not going to weave Log Cabin unless I have a good reason to, as in color combination sampling. The aim was to create "merchandise" with interesting colors, (check), and to get a better understanding of how Shadow, Corkscrew and Echo weaves behave as regards the colors.

Tomorrow morning at 10, The Group members are coming to my house, so we moved the kitchen table into the living room in preparation.

Meanwhile Log Cabin warp quietly awaits. (Those boxes contain weft candidates for the next four projects.)

City Light was finished, label put on, tag made up, and put in yellow tissue paper and my old gold bag. It will be delivered next weekend. I wonder if I can work on Tim's scarf just a little bit this week.

Tuesday morning, to the doctor to sort out my left arm. And P2P2.

A Week of It

2011-08-24T14:55:00.000+12:00

Thursday - walnut shell solution dye. I'm so not a brown person, but I like simple natural dyeing, so I dyed some fabric I prepared last year for the indigo workshop, and even made a small merino warp. The small skeins I dyed last year, and I dug them out before making the warp. I remembered I preferred gray yarns dyed in walnuts rather than white/undyed yarns, as the grays take on more expressions. I also still like big katazome-dyed shapes.

Friday - drawing, then came home straight away; the arm was bothering me so much, I had to have a nap. I think it was more emotional than physical.

Weekend - Ben and I did some gardening, but I kept the "brace" on, so the work was slow but pleasurable, and no damage done. Also tried to catch up on Harry Potter films; watched 6 and 7.

Monday - town; mammogram, short video of sculptor Terry Stringer at the Suter, used book shop, (got "The Lost King of France" on credit I accumulated,) three hours in the Australian craft material shop Spotlight but only bought stickers, iron -on patches and ribbons for my 5-year-old niece, fish and chips for dinner.

Tuesday - utterly frustrated I cannot weave; planned to do a little housework, a little gardening, and then concoct a P2P2 plan that doesn't involve left hands, but I ended up doing housework all day; gazed at and revised To Do lists several times, regretted taking off my "brace". Though I started reading "The Lost King" in the evening. Still learning how much of the muscles on my left hand I use, because I'm right handed! Washing dishes and typing are two of the worst things, besides weaving.

Wednesday - after a yucky night waking up several times due to arm pain, feel utterly frustrated I cannot weave, feel stupid about the amount of housework yesterday, and decided to be realistic. I took the four Log Cabin scarves off the loom to rest; ditto with the art swap scarf; cut off the first 8cm of Tim's scarf already woven, and washed to examine shrinkage; I could mend and hem these in a few days.

I could fringe these.

Or I could be good and rest my art. I was so good about keeping my arm in what I'm calling my "brace"; it's a stretchy bandage thingie with a metal support bar; I think the hand is supposed to wrap around the metal bar, but I've been wearing the metal on the outside; this way my fingers can't move as freely, and the metal bar doesn't slip out of the sleeve and the bottom rub against the inside of my arm. The hankie protects my arm from the Velcro friction.

And/Or do something about P2P2 because I only have a week to make something. Or I can read.

Thursday

2011-08-18T09:52:00.000+12:00

I didn't do much with my left arm/wrist after 2PM yesterday, except the two posts last night and eating dinner. And drinking a cup of chai before bedtime. It woke up fine this morning, but after 30 min of checking emails and Facebook and paying a bill online, it's not good. So no weaving today. Again. I had my mind set on weaving half of Tim's scarf yesterday, and finishing it today, and I'm at a loss as to what I'm going to do now. And I might have to change my plans for how far I'll take P2P2. Or can I make a small warp to dye in walnut shell solution?

It's amazing how many muscles we use in doing the most mundane chores. I can feel it when I have my brace on. I feel frustrated with my enforced slow day, but I have to take it easy if I want to weave well into my 90's.

You all take loving care of yourselves and your bodies, please, because minds/spirits alone can't do much weaving, I'm telling you.

* * * * *

Happy anniversary to Dot and me; we have been communicating more or less daily for two years now, and it has been the best therapy. And quietly, on the side, she published a magazine for a year as well. Happy Birthday, YarnMaker Magazine.

Tim's

2011-08-17T18:57:00.002+12:00

I'm excited about how the first 8cm of Tim's scarf looks, and I wanted to write about it tonight.

This is the original draft. With this scarf, it was important to me that the circles don't look squashed, and I tried five or six wefts of different sizes, but the skinny dark warp looked the best by far. So I tried the spaced-out picks seen at the top of the previous post, but I didn't like the way it fulled, (too lacy for a bloke,) and I didn't have the patience for it.

So I elongated the draft, and though I still have to be careful with the beating, (and watch out for the swing beater swinging back and touching the weft,) I'm happier with the new version.

The first 8cm. (Sorry about the terrible pic!) It's still a bit squashed, but I'm fine with this.

This series has not been as much "weaving" as it has been placing each and every pick of weft gently and just nudging it close to the previous pick; no rhythm, a lot of stopping breathing, and a few un- and re-weaving, or whatever the correct term. But they will turn out to be nice pieces from what the samples tell me.

Interim

2011-08-17T18:18:00.003+12:00

I had hoped to updated you on my cashmere experiments. I wove City Lights, got started on Tim's, but thought I had lost the use of my left opposing thumb, so am taking a break. It started when I was stacking wood a month (?) ago; sore muscles didn't get better but wrist and elbow started to feel weak over the weeks. Finally, I could not lift anything with my left art and I recognized the symptoms of tendentious from 5 years ago. It's not all that bad, but the braces restricts the movement of the left hand, so I thought I'd give weaving and typing (and cooking) a rest. Just so you know I haven't been lazy, here are some picks...

A bit cross, too, because Tim's scarf is looking really good.

3rd sample piece, trying to get about 16 PPI.

Forgot the knee beam. And, I forgot I could just lift it, loosen the tension, and push it under the apron cloth, so I undid/redid the lacing. Sometimes my mind just doesn't do any work!!

Sourdough dough keeping me company in whichever room I heat up.

Much prefer the B side, if you can see it...

Too eager to get going on Tim's scarf.

Monday, Monday....

2011-08-15T09:17:00.002+12:00

Much of our South Island and parts of the North Island are experiencing severe winter weather, including snow down to sea level, road and airport closures, and power cuts. Here in Nelson, the hills got snow to lower than usual level but from the look of it no snow in Motueka township like three weeks ago, Southerlies (that's the cold one,) is blowing occasionally, but the temperature is nothing out of the ordinary for this time of the year, and the sun is blindingly bright. As has been the moon. Once again, business as usual in Nelson, with a tinge of fair-weather guilt.

I resleyed the cashmere warp on the big loom several times yesterday, (more about it later,) have modified drafts gazillion times, came to realize how drafts/structures behave differently with the cashmere as opposed to merino or cotton, but can't come to a nice solution on Mom's draft. I'm going downstairs soon to sample some more, but I now have to decide whether I want these three cashmere pieces to be cloud-light and soft and cushy, or soft and lovely but meaty.

Why, though, do sleying mistakes always pop up in the center, and never towards the sides? This was was in the dead center yesterday.

Mom's Draft

2011-08-13T17:20:00.005+12:00

I like this better that the first one but I don't know about the weft color. The warp is much darker gray, (black with speckles, really,) and though brick orange is one of Mom's favorites, I think I need to sample more.

In my head, there are shuttles, skeins, (or bobbins), heddles/reeds, stylized knots, and big hearts in this drafts.

Finds

2011-08-13T14:58:00.000+12:00

I have to post about two fascinating books I encountered.

On Monday, for some unknown reason, I checked the bottom shelves of the art section of the Polytech library, a world I usually actively avoid because those books are dusty. I spotted "Art and Artifact: The Museum as Medium", by James Putnum, Thames & Hudson, 2001. It is one of those books I usually flick pages quickly, glance at pictures, and never read the texts within, but this one intrigued me, and I read 10% of the book in one sitting. Thus far, it discussed the traditional method of museum curating and displays, and not necessarily art museums, (which intrigues me in the Japanese language, we have separate words for art museums as opposed to history, science and other non-visual art museums,) in particular the existence of the glass cases, and how some artists have made a mockery of them. It also discussed how many/most artists are often collectors, and they need a system of storing and displaying their collection, and I sense there is a love/hate relationship between museums and artists. At a glance it doesn't seem to go too far into the emergence and re-inclusion of installation art towards the end, but still I'm expecting one interesting journey reading this one.

The other book, also from near the floor, is "Whole Cloth" by Mildred Constantine and Laurel Reuter, The Monacelli Press, 1997, though it doesn't appear on The Monacelli Press website. Like many others before, this is a big book of artwork in textiles, but with one notable difference: I can't see the authors' editorial preferences in selecting the works, so the book looks has a feel of representing all kinds of textile works, though many are very large works. Lovely viewing; I haven't started reading this one, but it could be worthwhile.

Let me know if you, too, encounter them.

Hands around the World

2011-08-13T12:32:00.007+12:00

Meg Nakagawa, weaver, drawing student, bread baker
12:30PM; Nelson, New Zealand; 41° 17' 0" S / 173° 17' 0" E

Margery Meyers Haber, De Witt, New York; 43° 2' 19" N / 76° 4' 23" W

Doni Chiesa, Genoa, Liguria; 44° 25' 0" N / 8° 57' 0" E

Dot Lumb, Whaley Bridge, High Peak, Derbyshire; 53° 16' N / 01° 54' W

My Bad, Again, and Other Incidents

2011-08-13T11:00:00.001+12:00

Saturday. And in spite of horrendous weather forecast, it's a "really should be outside" weather. But I'm inside.

On Monday, I went to the back to hash out the "rogue" withdrawal and it turned out to be my error; I used the "business" checkbook rather than "personal" and I used the first check from the new checkbook they sent me as they felt I was approaching the end of my current one. But they should have noted the check number, the bank noted.

I think I'm getting used to most things being my fault; statistically that's been the case in the last few years; if not my fault, then my not understanding the whole story. I think I was half sensed this was going to be the case as early as last Friday evening. Is this what getting old feels like, like I never have the whole picture, or did I never have the whole picture but believed I did? Anyway, I feel frustrated and angry every time I'm "made" to feel as if I'm imposing my ineptitude and foolishness on the world.

Earlier in the week I was feeling overwhelmed, like everything is an imposition on me and my time for the last couple of weeks and I'm so angry so often. Last Friday morning I was overwhelmed I was going back to drawing, loosing one-half day per week, and I kept wondering if I was doing the right thing.

As well, I've been physically unjustifiably tired. A week ago, I didn't want to get out of bed most mornings, I wanted to go back to bed all day. My body feels like it's suffering from an electrical fault because it feels tingly and a few nights I wake up startled, my body tingly like a Christmas tree all lit up. Even if I exercise, (mild and quick) or walk, (not quickly but for hours around town.)

Earlier this week I knew that if I didn't watch out, I was going down a slippery slope, so I made myself do things all week. I made lists of things I should do, not the overly long perpetual To Do lists, but only things I should take care of soon. Like wash dishes. And I carried it around. I had too many things for one day, but I got to choose from it, and though I managed only two or three things per day, and I had a hard time getting started every morning, I did manage to do something every afternoon. And on the loom, I ended up more productive than my "normal" days.

From Tuesday to Thursday, I managed to weave two Log Cabin scarves on the Jack, besides the two false starts that included various greens, proving once again I'm really not a green weaver. I dressed the big loom with a cashmere warp for the first time. That loom requires so much loom waste I was too stingy to use my cashmere yarns on it until now, but I have a few projects in many shafts that I want to weave in cashmere; these are gifts and art swaps so I don't have to consider prices. As well the big loom as a whopping big shed, requiring the yarns to stretch quite a bit, and because my 100% cashmeres are foamy-stretchy and break easily, I did a sample weave very gingerly, advancing the warp every half an inch or so, and trying to keep the tension as loosely as I can tolerate. I could train myself and get used to it, or, I could use the cashmere/silk mix in the warp as it is a little less prone to break.

This sample was woven at 15EPI; I figure City Light can go ahead at 16, (but in woven samples I'm suddenly not too keen on the fussiness of this draft,) and Tim's maybe as close as 18. I hadn't fine-tuned Mom's draft to sample yet, but that also takes place on this warp and I wanted to see the the pale green and blue-yellow weft colors at the very far right of the sample.

For City Lights I had my heart set on Silk/Cashmere, (the middle part where the weft didn't shrink much), but in real life, I like the far right pale gray sample the best. I'm disappointed the black, (far left) nor the white, (between black and silk-mix) didn't produce a more attractive effect. For Tim's, I like the two paler wefts, and the palest is a slightly thicker yarn so it helps to make the circles more circle, not oblong, as the draft intended. Ben likes the far right brick orange best, and that was the one I had in mind at first; I'll sample this one at 18EPI later.

Yesterday was session 2 of 10 for this term's drawing, and for the very first time we had the model J. Now J has been modeling in Ronette's class for decades but she works in the mornings so never made an appearance in my class in the last three years. She not only does she know how to pause and hold the pauses, but she and Ronette need not talk to understand each other and the class took on a mood of being co-taught, or even one of a class of chicks being watched lovingly by two mother hens. Even Ronette looked more relaxed after class than usual. And J promises she will make occasional appearances Friday mornings. Bliss!

Strangeness

2011-08-06T12:52:00.003+12:00

There is a bug going around; I saw notices all over the Polytech to wash hands and stay home if sick. I've had a weak one two weeks ago, and I had it again this week, but I'm kind of glad I soldiered on.

* * * * *

I did go see "McLuhan's Wake" Thursday night. I didn't like how the film was edited/organized; too much going on at once, sound clips overlapping, persons speaking not identified, it was less a "mediation" on his ideas, but an over-caffeinated episode of Sesame Street for grownups; I may have caught 5% of his ideas. I feel the problem comes from two areas: that I wasn't around when McLuhan was a media celeb, (I had no idea who the man who dropped by in Annie Hall was but always empathized with Woody Allen's sentiment,) and the filmmakers tried to put in practice McLuhan's most famous aphorism, the medium is the message. A more straight-forward doco would have been easier in understanding what McLuhan said, but still I'm glad I went. The doco was made in 2002, the same year Prof Mitsui's book I'm reading was published. At this point, I don't intend to read McLuhan, but go back to the start of Prof Mitsui's book; I'm also tempted to look for an audio book of "Finnegan's Wake".

Some links:
McLuhan.com
Interview with the writer David Sobelman, (in which he explains the format of the doco,) on an Universita di Bologna-based (?) site dedicated to McLuhan. (English version on the right tool bar.)
University of Toronto counterpart.
Referenced "Wired" magazine article.
McLuhan on YouTube

* * * * *

Although invisible to the naked eye, I have been making dents into my stash, this week in to the cashmere drawers. Still, I have started to have misgivings about whether I will be able to use up all my yarns before I, you know, go. And whether there will come a time when what I have on hand will determine the directions I take, which is the first thing we were told not to do in the correspondence design course with Alison, back in 2002.

I've also been thinking I might have to think about the size of one's ambition vs accomplishment. This thought popped up after Tuesday's exhibition hanging. At first, I need to revisit what exactly my ambitions are re. weaving.

* * * * *

Friday I returned to Ronette's figure drawing class. I keep saying I did three years of it before I took a term off, but later in the afternoon I heard myself tell someone I just "started my fourth year" which sounded alarming, as if I was supposed to know what I was doing. The class itself was fine, though I often forget what gesture drawing is unless I keep practicing, that we are supposed to draw quickly and not necessarily contours. While discussing composition, suddenly I became super aware of who among us thinks about composition and other visual-artistic concerns all the time, vs who makes a weekly appearance at a pleasant drawing class. Suddenly the world looked clearer and more vivid, and though my opinion was so different from others regarding eye-catching compositions, (I really went for the Ukiyoe-style yesterday,) I was confident in my opinion and if asked I knew I could explain why. A novel experience.

* * * * *

Ben and I went to see reopened Red Gallery. They have some of Lloyd's paintings now and I saw a few pictures of the café earlier in the week so I was curious. Truth to tell, I was ready to hate it because of my loyalty to Jay. Well, the place looked updated, contemporary, probably targeting a more general, and possibly younger, market, more "a café/gift shop with art", but very fresh. And I like the new owners. And if you know Nelson, Derek with the red socks, ex Lambretta, ex Zumo, now swerves coffee there.

* * * * *

So all in all, I had a good day. Even my dentist appointment was short and they gave me the July issue of National Geographic because I couldn't finish the Cleopatra article. I got loads of errands done, including canceling a "business" debit card I only used twice in the first six months.

Then I came home to discover a big withdraw from my account, which the call center people identified as a check/cheque withdrawal from a neighboring branch. Except the last time I wrote a check was in April, for a different amount, cashed three days after I wrote it. And I haven't written one for the amount withdrawn in the last few years, there is "no record" of its number available online, and I was recommended to ring that branch on Monday. Huh? The teller who helped me was typing for an uncomfortably long time and the card cancellation took extraordinary long for the nature of the transaction. But then it could be entirely me forgetting something. I'm going to battle it out at the bank on Monday, in person.

Can't with them all.

* * * * *

In the wee, wee hours, I had to resort to TV, and caught the first (half??) of "In Search of Mozart". I believe I saw it in a theater when it came out, but I couldn't remember, and not much of what I saw rang any bell. One pays less attention to details, I think, when watching something like this between late night and early morning. I was overwhelmed by his dad's money worries on this occasion.

Art/Craft

2011-08-03T12:29:00.000+12:00

It's enjoyable to read opinions on the subject with my new/relaxed attitude towards where exactly the boarder lies. And in that vein, this article on a South African personal finance website of all places has been one of the most satisfying, as she throws in a lot of words and perspectives with which I could reflect on what/how I think. I'll do that later.

Just coincidentally, I've been reading another of Prof Matsui's book, this time on media and art, (written in 2002 and it's more about electronic and other new tools in making art rather than the social aspects of the Internet or the mass media,) and his first several chapters refers to Marshall McLuhan's writing, and tomorrow the local film society is showing McLuhan's Wake.

Lucky me!