I’ve been steadily working behind the scenes, or seams as it were, trying desperately to fit in some studio time in between the really important parts of my life. I skipped down to Delaware for an overnighter and a wonderful class with the Harmony Weavers Guild, half day on Color and Inspiration, and a morning lecture on Washing your Fabric when it comes off the loom, the same one I am giving at Convergence in July. They were an appreciative and enthusiastic group, and one that I’ve worked with many times before, so it was good to see old friends.
Of course, I left for Delaware about five hours after the return of both my husband, from Saudi Arabia, and my daughter, who is home from college for the next couple of weeks before she heads off to work at an upstate NY Girl Scout camp for the summer. I’m sure you can imagine dear readers how good it is to have her back, and I’m overlooking the boxes of stuff everywhere and the 15 loads of laundry, that she is doing a terrific job of plowing through. She is sorting through her childhood debris, making way for her dorm debris, and so begins the final transition to adult hood. Can I say how proud I am of my daughter, of how she dealt with this semester and all of its challenges, and how she pulled it out in the end, and finished on a very high note, and is already integrating herself and her wonderful opinions in my studio and my workspace.
And having my husband back as well, if only for a brief time, is a joy. So anything constructive in the studio was sort of put on hold, I worked when I could, but it was more important to be with my husband, and family, and I’m not apologizing for the lack of a blog post. We did a quick overnight in Princeton over the weekend, saw a show at the McCarter theater, and enjoyed the spectacular weather. We bought lots of shrubbery and spent the weekend playing in the dirt. The property is in bloom, and the plants are full and lovely, the roses have never looked better, mostly I think because of the winter that wasn’t.
It was an especially poignant Mother’s Day, with my two kids and my husband home from their travels. My daughter spent the day buried in her room, and when she came into my studio last night to present this exquisite Mother’s Day present, I cried. Made from 316 folded paper triangles, this 3-D origami sculpture will have a very treasured place in my heart.
And so I took advantage of this dreary rainy Monday, and finished up my jacket that I begin with lots of teeth gnashing, and indecision, and yes dear readers, I carefully read each and every comment that you wrote about the button selection, what I think I loved most was not the vote for one version or another, but why each of you thought the way you did. The logic behind all the conflicting opinions was important to me, because it allowed me to put a voice on what it was that I wanted from this jacket and all of the myriad options for a closure.
In the end, after many more options, I did chose to cover the large 2″ flat abalone disks, with a circle of felt, drawn around the button, and then felted tight to the base. I spent an inordinate amount of time in Photoshop with a blank jacket and lots of button choices, moving them in and copying them, resizing them, and even combining them. It was sort of a game, and finally, I decided on what I thought was the best option, and made it work.
I did have to re-do the entire collar, after I had the collar lined and stitched onto the neck edge, it was too floppy to really give the drama of the original pattern, so I undid the lining, and supported the back of the collar with a shaped piece of fleece, then re-lined the collar all by hand, shaping in the roll as I went. And so dear readers, here is the final result, I still have to do a formal photo shoot, but that can wait, I head out to California for the CNCH conference on Thursday, I’ll judge the fashion show on Friday, and hopefully wear my new jacket that was once a gown, Friday night at the CNCH fashion show.
Stay tuned…
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My wonderful husband reminded me that it has been nearly 10 days since my last blog post, and people are starting to talk, or write to me and that he really misses reading about my misadventures since he is living a world away in Saudi Arabia.
I haven’t abandoned him, my studio, or you my dear readers…
I’ve merely been on a vacation of sorts.
A vacation to me isn’t necessarily getting on a plane and going someplace exotic (or anyplace but New Jersey) where I’m not hauling 150 pounds of luggage, since I get on planes for a living. And just staying home doesn’t always count since a) my studio is here right under my nose and there is no way to get through the day without a stop in my studio and b) if I were to just sit outside and enjoy my ponds and wildlife and lovely 100 year old home and close the studio off, I’d be looking at weeds, laundry, dust, dog hair, and dishes.
No, I actually played, with people, and I wasn’t teaching, I was learning.
It started last weekend which was suppose to be my 34th wedding anniversary weekend and my husband and I had made plans for another weekend in Princeton, but alas, that didn’t work out since he got called back to Saudi. So at the last minute, I ran back over emails of other opportunities I had turned down and the first one I came across, was one that involved my hobby.
Yes, I know, you all assumed threads. WRONG!
See, most people take up knitting, sewing, spinning, weaving, lacemaking, felting, etc. as something to do when you aren’t at work and that that you become passionate about and that you look forward to even when you are doing other things. Playing with threads is my job and my life. It is all consuming, and that isn’t a complaint, I can’t imagine my world without it. It defines me.
However.
I longed to stretch myself in ways that didn’t involve yarn, and quite by accident and a series of opportunities, and a lot of hard work over the past few years, I became a recorder player. That Baroque thing that comes in plastic and all sorts of exotic woods, and who knew there was more than one kind, five actually that I now own, and I can play all five mostly, that would be the sopranino, soprano, alto, tenor, and bass, and what I love most about it, are the two things that fibers can’t give me. The first is that this is a group thing. I’m not the star, I’m not the leader, I’m not the anything. This is a blending of “voices” and each contributes, each is important, but I’m just one of a group and listening to the group and blending with the group is pretty critical. The other thing I love most, which is what I hated most in the beginning, was that when you make a mistake in performance, you just go on. You can’t rethink, you can’t rework, you can’t redesign, you can’t spend nights mulling over options. You are there in the moment, and how it comes out is how it comes out and the moment is gone. You’ve made something that there is no record of, and only a memory of sounds. I can’t look back, archive and rethink and cut into something new. Playing the recorder is the antithesis of what I do in the studio and yet is is so related.
Anyway, there was a day long series of workshops in Bergen County, only half an hour from me, with renowned recorder players, and I bundled up all my instruments, and sat all day in a classroom with others in my playing level (low intermediate) and we played our little hearts out. For the entire day. And by the end of the afternoon, when the last teacher pointed at me and said, I need another bass, could you play bass, (which is not my strength I can assure you) I swallowed hard, and said, yes, I’d give it a try. And I did and I did it. I was so proud of myself, and so bleary eyed and mentally shot, and I’ve never been happier.
Last Saturday night after the recorder workshop I raced over to the Hampton Inn in Parsippany where Gail Yellen was presenting a trunk show of her work at a gathering of the North Jersey Chapter of the American Sewing Guild. They were having their Spring Fling, two days of workshops with Gail, and I found out that night, that there was an opening in the serging workshop with Gail on Sunday.
So I came home, packed up my sergers and some basic sewing supplies and set out last Sunday morning for a class called “Cosmetic Serger-y”. My goal was to become friends with my two sergers. You see, I’m not really, I have these pieces of sewing equipment because I am a sewing educator, but rarely do I employ their services since much of what I do in the studio involves handwork, with a needle and thread and finishing techniques that are more couture and less commercial. I use the sergers when necessary, but never creatively.
I learned a lot.
And though I don’t consider my sergers to be my most cherished equipment in the studio, certainly not BFF’s, we are now more than passing acquaintances, and might even do lunch on a more regular basis.
And Gail was a terrific and patient teacher.
And so dear readers, my adventures continued on Wednesday when I picked up Abby Franquemont at the Newark Liberty airport, and showed her a real NJ good time. Including NJ Bagels, and Taylor Ham. Abby is a renowned spinning teacher, specifically drop spindles, and she wrote the book, “Respect the Spindle” from Interweave Press. I met Abby when we taught together at the New York Sheep and Wool Festival last October, and became instant BFF’s. (Best Friends Forever for those who don’t have a teen living in your house) I offered to bring Abby in for a workshop for the Jockey Hollow Guild, a two day spindle spinning class, and to my delight the guild jumped on it. We filled the class with 18, and Abby flew in Wednesday. Wednesday night we had really great sushi, since that isn’t something she has access to in Ohio, and Thursday we assembled in Mendham and jumped in with day one of “All Spindles All Day”. I consider myself a fairly competent spindle spinner, it isn’t my main sport, but I’ve been doing it long enough that I can produce a fine even and consistent plied yarn. I carry a spindle with me wherever I go. After watching Abby spin for an hour or so last fall in Rhinebeck, I am probably what I would call myself in recorder language a “low intermediate”. And in fact most of the workshop members were competent spindle spinners but Abby, who was raised in the Andes, brought thoughts and stories and techniques to the table that really made me start all over again, and try methods that will ultimately bring my spindle spinning to a place I want to go. There is a wonderful understanding of string when made on a stick. It doesn’t get any better or more basic than that. It is the heart and soul of all I do. And Abby is a fabulous tour director. So we went on a “tour” of spindle spinning, Andean style, and it was a satisfying and personal experience, and I’m so glad I was a part of it.
And having Abby all to myself in the evenings meant that she gave me a one on one private class in Andean Backstrap weaving, and there I was on my living room floor with my couple of “sticks” and a back strap and a warp tied to my foot. (note to self: wear shoes next time, otherwise your foot falls asleep…)
And because when Abby arrived on Wednesday, having left Dayton Ohio in 80 degree sunshine, she forgot her jacket in her car parked at the airport, and alas, was seriously under dressed for the cold rainy three days here in NJ. Fortunately this is the land of coats, here. I make coats for fun. All kinds. And all sizes. I grabbed one of my older masterpieces from the closet where all those coats and jackets live, and threw it on her and she fell instantly in love. To the point where she timidly approached me last night, after I’d had a few glasses of wine and asked if I’d be interested in swapping it for a fabulous piece of Andean textiles which she would pick out and send me. Well duh, that was a no brainer. And it looked fabulous on her, and it needed to go and live with Abby and I’m completely happy with that. I smiled as she walked into the terminal at Newark Airport this morning and I knew my “textile” was going to a good home.
Stay tuned…
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I will attempt a post tonight, after half a bottle of wine. Not something I normally do, but I needed to blur the edges a bit…
And there is no sense putting a half glass back in the fridge…
I finished the prom gown re-do. I have to say this was a fun exercise, and I really enjoyed just plain sewing, and I kept remembering the original gown, the prom, and the guy I went with who was so much fun, who is actually a friend on Facebook, and who will remain anonymous…
Let me mention here that I have a $1500 sewing machine, which I completely adore, the Janome 6600, but I never figured out how to make buttonholes on it. I always dug out my old faithful low end machine and attached the old fashioned Greist Buttonholer to it. The last time I used my old buttonholer attachment, it broke and rendered the machine unusable, which I didn’t find out until much later, and I decided, that before trying the old buttonholer again on the replacement machine, I’d see what the Janome 6600 can do. Duh… Read the directions Daryl, the machine is only 6 years old at this point. It makes beautiful buttonholes, exactly the size for the button you feed it… There are no words of explanation why I waited so long to discover this…
Meanwhile, I was suppose to head off to my Thursday evening knitting group, which I do really love, but I was on a roll and didn’t want to stop. I realized that I needed to pick up the tencel Challenge Gown re-do, that I so unceremoniously dumped because I started traveling again. Most of what I’ve done this past year will be shipped off shortly to Convergence for their exhibits, so I want to have a new interesting jacket to wear to the conferences and workshops I’m teaching between now and August when I get the work back from Convergence. Hence the push…
And so dear readers, I had a stiff drink, and plowed into chopping up the teal tencel from the gown I wove for the Convergence Challenge project in 2008. I had taken it apart on the long car ride to my sister’s house for Easter dinner. That was so weeks ago…
I ended up backing the tencel, which was fairly dense and stable, but I wanted a more molded fabric for outerwear, and I used an inserted weft poly knit fusible underlining.
Some of the dress panels were a bit skimpy and I had to splice in butted selvedges, which I carefully pulled together by hand with a needle and thread, and once fused with the underlining and marked it was hard to tell where the splice actually was. I opted to serge all around the perimeter of each piece to stabilize since I will completely line this garment.
I adjusted the differential feed on the serger to automatically draw up the bust area on the side front panels. They eased in like butter onto the front panels. I didn’t have enough of the handwoven tencel to make the inside facing so I’ll opt for plan B. The facing isn’t actually visible in this design, so I can use an alternative fabric there. It is drying in the shower stall.
And now dear readers I am stuck in the dilemma that can cause the most confident creative people to run for the hills.
Buttons.
Problem with this jacket is I need to put the button loops on right up front, first step, and in order to make the loops, I need to know what size buttons I’m putting on.
The pattern calls for two inch buttons. These are two inch buttons. The third one is hidden under the large felted collar. Seem really really in your face. They compete with the felted collar (which is just pinned on to get a feel for the scale). I’m seriously thinking something slightly smaller and four instead of three buttons.
I have two contenders. The first two jackets on the right show the same button, but one view they are flipped over. The third jacket below has a different button altogether, I bought all of these when I was teaching up at WEBS last month. They have amazing buttons. I’m staring at the options and will probably revisit this post tomorrow to make my ultimate decision. There is something about looking at the images rather than the piece in front of you that gives a better perspective. Feel free dear readers to weigh in, but ultimately I’ll just go with my gut…
Stay tuned…
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Last week I was embarking on an attic rearrange, because we are having the air-conditioning system replaced. And the air handler part snakes through a good portion of one of my attics. I say one of, because we have the “this old house” attic, the original, accessed through a funky closet in the guest room, which is mostly unused anymore, and the newer attic, over the addition that was put on the 100 year old house about 23 years ago. Before I had any children. We have in fact lived in this house since 1982, it is the only house we’ve ever owned, and there-in lies the problem…
Most of my studio surplus, looms and equipment, scrap fabric, and assorted things related to my fiber passions are stored up into the easily accessible new attic. That is the attic where the air conditioning will be replaced. So most of my assorted studio surplus had to be artfully rearranged to accommodate the construction. That meant moving some rarely used items, tax records, etc, into the old part of the attic. I hadn’t intended to do a clean out, it is on the “list” but way at the bottom, probably won’t be dealt with until I’d dead, but anyway, as I cleared away some odd boxes and trash, and there was a lot of that, I came across a torn and tattered plastic garment bag with a couple of things that surprised me. I don’t know why I kept my Color Guard captain uniform from High School, my mom had made it, but what could I have been thinking?
There was a gown, store bought which was rare for me back in those days, I don’t have a clue why I saved it, it wasn’t anything special, but what really has me scratching my head, is the gown from my Junior High School Prom. I made it of course, and I haven’t a clue why I saved it either. I always loved the floral, but the gown has no use or value, I never saved the senior prom gown, go figure, but there, in the bottom of the tattered garment bag, heaped on the floor or the attic, was my Junior Prom gown with a couple of nasty tears in it, or maybe squirrel tastings, but I’m going with tears at the moment.
Earlier in the week, I was mindlessly leafing through the latest issue of Real Simple Magazine. It is my tea time perusal, I love the images, and the simple food, and occasionally I get to laugh over their attempts at organizing people who are clearly not of the ilk who save their Junior HS Prom gowns. I flipped through the section on “hot trends” and came across this page. Who knew? And damned if that lovely floral blouse in the center from Lord and Taylor didn’t remind me of my Junior HS Prom Gown.
So what should surface in the attic? I can’t really give it away, with the two large tears in it, and it is a lovely print, and there is a lot of fabric, so what does a hoarder do? OK, I refuse to save it any longer so it is either use it or lose it. I looked through the latest issue of Burda Style Magazine, and there was a lovely blouse, with a tie, that reminded me of the Lord and Taylor blouse, (that I could just buy for $79. but that isn’t the point…)
After clearing away all my critical computer work this morning, I traced off the pattern, after re-grading down a couple sizes because it seems like most of what I love in this magazine turn out to be for plus sizes. I did a quick pattern check by stitching the pattern pieces together, and then carefully took apart the gown, until I had large pieces of cloth that I could use for the blouse pattern. So now I have a pile of pattern pieces, all cut out, I had to piece the 45″ long collar/ties which are cut on the bias, but that won’t be a problem. I think this will be really fun to wear though I’m not sure how much I want to tell people when they comment on it, that it was my old Jr. Prom gown. The gown is after all 40 years old this month.
I don’t have a hoarding problem…
Stay tuned…
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There is no other way to accomplish the tasks that life sends your way but to do them a minute at a time, a day at a time, a bucket full at a time… I’m actually pretty good at working this way. I’ve sampled most of my dye cabinet by running small batches, one a day over a six week period. Bobbin lace projects work well doing one repeat at a time. Spinning gets accomplished one bobbin at a time. Weaving cloth goes well a yard at a time. And sewing projects get finished by completing a garment section at a time.
Cleaning my house is systematic, one room a day. By the time I finish all the rooms, it is time to start all over again. Sadly I’ve been so swamped in the studio, I have neglected to address the house, and it is pretty dirty. So I need to just focus, and accomplish one room at a time and all will be well.
The unexpected onslaught of summer, in mid April has everyone scrambling with outdoor work. The absence of my husband for the last two years has meant that neither of us has kept up with the yard work, which is pretty critical when you have a half acre of gorgeous manicured gardens. Perennials seed themselves and run amok when you aren’t watching. The rain and flooding of last year brought a bumper crop of weeds. I’m talking mutant. Bushes… Not lovely shrubbery. Bushes that are really weeds in disguise. We can’t uncover the netting on the ponds yet because the plants haven’t grown up enough to protect the fish from predators. Go figure…
And the failure of our airconditioning system last summer has finally come down to hiring a contractor to replace the 25 year old system, which is great, except, the attic needs to be completely cleaned out to provide access to the air handler. Sigh.
For someone who borders on OCD, this is all very distressing. I’m a bit overwhelmed and struggling with where to start. I have four looms with warps, and none of them are being woven. I have a jacket in pieces on the cutting table and nothing happening there. I have a huge travel schedule for the rest of the spring/summer/fall, (this is what I do after all) and mostly my days are spent preparing for the next venue, stuck at my desk, answering emails that come in about 5 per minute, all needing something important, and I’m unable to get to blog posts, attic clearing, weaving, weeding, mulching, cleaning, sewing, spinning, or any of the tasks that need my attention.
Sigh…
And so dear readers, fret not, this too shall pass, for I enjoyed a lovely four months over the winter where I spent my days creating in the studio and exploring new venues and ideas. That time will come again, so I just have to put one foot in front of the other, one bucket full of mulch at a time.
I did teach a workshop this weekend in Vermont, what a glorious time to drive through the Green Mountains, and of course, the New Englanders who took my workshop, some coming over from New Hampshire couldn’t have been more lovely to work with. The class was one of my new two day workshops, called Weave a Memory. Participants come in with pre-warped looms, and photos from their lives that mean something to them. They learn how to use Photoshop to alter and correct images, and we print them on cloth. They cut them into strips and weave the cloth back together into memories. It is pretty amazing to watch. And I took absolutely no photos. Not one. Mostly because I spent the entire second day at the laptop/scanner/printer helping students process their photos. I loved hearing the stories from each photo, seeing what’s important to each participant. And I loved seeing how the photos came together on the loom. I’m hoping one of the students sends me a photo or two from the workshop, I know pictures were taken.
And now that my son is awake, I’ll feed him and caffeinate him and I will attempt to go up in the attic to start clearing away all of my studio overflow. There are about 15 looms up there, mostly Inkle, and boxes and crates of leftover handwoven fabric, early handwoven garments, scrap fabrics, buttons, belt buckles, shearling scraps, retired weaving and sewing equipment, and stuff I probably don’t know exists. I’m not sure where to put it at this point, because most of it eventually gets used. Fiber stashes always outlive life expectancy…
Stay tuned…
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It was an especially poignant Mother’s Day, with my two kids and my husband home from their travels. My daughter spent the day buried in her room, and when she came into my studio last night to present this exquisite Mother’s Day present, I cried. Made from 316 folded paper triangles, this 3-D origami sculpture will have a very treasured place in my heart.
I did have to re-do the entire collar, after I had the collar lined and stitched onto the neck edge, it was too floppy to really give the drama of the original pattern, so I undid the lining, and supported the back of the collar with a shaped piece of fleece, then re-lined the collar all by hand, shaping in the roll as I went. And so dear readers, here is the final result, I still have to do a formal photo shoot, but that can wait, I head out to California for the CNCH conference on Thursday, I’ll judge the fashion show on Friday, and hopefully wear my new jacket that was once a gown, Friday night at the CNCH fashion show.
