Tag: Maiwa

A Watched Pot Never Boils…

…Though this is probably a good thing if you are mordanting yarn…

True confessions… I hate to baby-sit anything. I am bored, distracted, whatever you want to call it after about 5 seconds. Yes, I’m the most patient person in the world, but I have ADD, meaning I get distracted easily, and always have to have my hands busy…

So I finished my Fiber-Reactive dye sessions for January, my shelves are overflowing with colorful skeins that I’m itching to play with. Dyeing with MX Fiber-Reactive dyes, you set up the pot and leave it over night. Set it and forget it…

February 1st, I decided it was time to revisit and continue on my natural dye education and move onto the next step, which is mordanting the wool yarns, and wool fabric in the kit I purchased from Maiwa, to be able to follow along in the 10 module class.

I had previously attempted to mordant yarn, a step necessary before dyeing, and was using a regular electric hot plate, and of course, because I absolutely can’t stand to sit and watch a pot to keep it from boiling, I got distracted by something else in the studio, and I ended up felting the yarn.

I decided it was the fault of the hot plate, since it was electric, and I’m use to cooking with gas. I had seen instructors use induction burners, and I thought, that would be perfect. So I ordered one. I found out pretty quickly that it wouldn’t work for my purposes because it had two settings, 140 degrees, which is about my hot water from the tap, and 212 degrees, which is boiling. Nothing in between. You can’t hold anything at a simmer.

So I ordered another one. This one, a Duxtop, I did a bit more research, and reading the manual online, it had, starting at 140 degrees F, increments of 20 degrees up to 460 degrees F. I bought it last fall, and finally took it out of the box.

I thought, this will be great, set it and forget it. Yeah… no… I take my wetted, scoured wool yarn, and gently place it in the pot with the correct percentage WOF of Potassium Aluminum Sulfate, and set the temp to 180 degrees. I walk away. I didn’t feel like much was happening, so I put in my dye studio thermometer, and no matter how long I waited, the temperature never got above 140 degrees. Great, I’m figuring it is defective. I go back and reread the directions and there, in the fine print, it says, “…different cookware yields different temperatures, the temperature readout is only an estimate of the actual cooking temperature. It is accurate enough for daily cooking requirements. (No it is not…) The temperature in your pan may be different than the setting you have selected. Please test a few times to find the proper temperature setting for your particular cooking task and cookware…”

Sigh…

So pinned up to my wall is a note, that after some testing and constant pot watching, I’ve determined that to get the temp up to 190 degrees, I need to set the induction burner temp to 280 degrees, and once it reaches 190 degrees, drop the temp to 260 degrees where it will hold at 190 degrees for the hour I need to mordant the fiber.

Of course I’m bored and distracted the whole time, and my studio is one giant distraction. I get into trouble when I can’t focus on a task. I look up at the ceiling and what to I see? A pile of 6-8 ft. lengths of climbing rose runners we trimmed from the rose arbor back in 2021.

I know it was 2021, because I found a photo I took after we cut them. My daughter I remember, spent an entire Saturday breaking off all the thorns.

My intent at the time, was to use them for basketry; some of them were 3/8″ thick. Last summer, when I took a freeform basket class at Peters Valley, I took one of the lengths, and soaked it overnight in my pond, the only water body big enough, and brought it to class. The teacher began to play with it and we realized that these runners when dry are hollow, so they just bent in half, instead of curving into something I could use for a handle or a rim.

So I’m babysitting a pot, and staring at these runners in the ceiling, and I go off on a super unrelated tangent. I need to use them, or get rid of them. I’m sick of dusting plant materials in the ceiling.

I ended up cutting the rose runners into 24″ lengths. This idea popped into my head, influenced by a willow tray I made in a different class at Peters Valley last summer, that I could line up all the 24″ lengths and make a garden fence of sorts. I thought about weaving them, but I wanted space between the elements, and though I could use a leno technique, I just didn’t see how it was realistic to weave these into what I wanted.

So my next thought was some kind of knotting. Long story short, spending lots of time watching pots and thinking of all the possibilities, I ended up using a skein I had of Euroflax wet-spun linen, and suspending the first 24″ length from the frame over the door of my shower stall. From there, I added the lengths of linen, and did a couple square knots between each additional rose length. I found a bunch of knitting yarn bobs, and used them to support the long length of linen I cut. I soaked the rose runners in a large plastic basin on the floor of my shower as I worked.

It took a couple of days, but I’m really happy with my little fence.

When we converted the garage into the studio, I had a split ductless Heat and AC unit put into the block on the north side. It attaches to a compressor at the base of the foundation on the outside. It blows a continuous warm dry air, which has killed most of the plants in that particular area.

My landscape designer found an American Holly and told me that it would be happy in that location, and so last fall she planted it. I worry that the steady stream of dry air would affect the holly, it looked a little dry on the leaf tips that faced the compressor unit. And so, even though overnight, we got about 5 inches of snow with a quarter inch glaze of ice on top, I worked my way out to the side of the house, and placed my little fence behind the holly, which was looking a bit glazed from the ice.

I’m so very very proud of my little fence. I wish I had a willow patch. But I’ll settle for cutting more of the rose runners as they reach for the sky this coming year.

Meanwhile… I eat my meals at the puzzle table, otherwise I’ll mindlessly doom scroll on my phone. My mom loaned me a puzzle someone gave her, a brand I’d never heard of, Pickforu, which featured cats in stained glass. This was one of the most fun puzzles I’ve ever done, the colors are magnificent. (I’ve since ordered three more from Amazon…)

I grabbed a bunch of pictures of the poster, and thought about what I could do with those colors, and all that newly dyed yarn just hanging off the shelves in my overflowing studio.

I went around and pulled everything I thought could work in a color layout for a scarf run. I could use more scarves in my collection of things to sell at the guild sale, give as gifts, give as donations, etc. I figure I’ll put on a 12 yard warp. Maybe get 5 scarves?

The yarns that were skeined for dyeing had to be wound into cakes of course, which required hours of baby sitting the electric cake winder. I have one from Boye, it really is not a good product, but it is what I have and there aren’t a lot of reasonably priced alternatives out there. So I babysat for hours today, transferring the skeins to the electric cake winder.

And while I sat and monitored the action of winder, I knitted. I’m working on the second sock, which I started after my trip to Japan, 2023?

By the end of the day, or quitting time which is when I get attacked by all the animals for dinner, I had started the heel flap for the second sock.

I only have a couple more skeins to transfer to cakes, and I can start doing a yarn wrap. Really looking forward to this next adventure. And yeah, I still have to monitor the pots and mordant the silk and the cellulose fabrics. At least those won’t felt…

Stay tuned…

True Confessions…

My life is so full of really fun stuff, gardening is winding down, the visuals are changing daily. New stuff is blooming, (hello goldenrod) and other plants are dying back, going to seed, and looking wretched (goodbye milkweed).

I’m taking a natural dye intensive through Maiwa, in Canada (remotely of course) and watching each module, carefully taking lots of notes, and starting to scour some of the yarns and fabrics in the kit.

I’m taking cello lessons. Yep, something I always wanted to learn, it is my most favorite sounding instrument of all. First draw of the bow string and I was hooked. I practice furiously every day, hoping the pads of my fingertips will soon harden up! The photo from the teacher is for me to try to replicate proper posture…

And in all of that, honestly, I miss weaving. I love and have always loved the gentle process of a shuttle going back and forth, feet and hands in a rhythm that makes my heart sing. That and the cello… Often I listen to one while doing the other.

So here is the true confessions part. I have 17 table looms, all with interesting stuff on them, and I HATE weaving on a table loom. Really. Please don’t write letters telling me all the advantages of having a table loom, I know what they are, that’s why I still have 17 of them, down from around 3 dozen. There is nothing better for teaching structure, portability, etc.

Before Covid changed the world and certainly my life, I was able to cart around an entire weaving studio in my car, and bring the world of weaving to the masses. I gave 12 of my sturdy little 4-shaft Structos to my weaving friend Anne Choi, who has a sheep farm and was excited to get them, and set up her own mobile weaving studio, concentrating in underserved areas that don’t have access to the joy of handweaving. She sent me these couple of images of my beloved Structos at the Newark Museum, here in NJ, this past weekend, another group of new weavers is born. Here is the link to her website.

So, what about me… Back when I was doing this regularly, with my daughter in tow (she is now an emergency vet tech, and has little time for weaving), I started to build a group of 4-8 shaft Structos, with all different structures, envisioning a follow-up round robin, where people could try things like Summer/Winter, Huck, Doubleweave, Deflected Doubleweave, Honeycomb, Rosepath, etc. I put 4-6 yards of fine yarn, cotton or Tencel, on these little Structos and got each of them started and there they sat. This photo is from October 2023, it hasn’t changed…

One of them, actually a Leclerc 10″ wide 4-shaft sample loom, with spools on the back, had a Huck Sampler in linen, the spools had come with the loom, from my mother-in-law, and I thought it would be perfect to use up all that linen. What was I thinking…

I had no idea how much linen was on this group of spools, so I finished the yard and a half sampler, and there was still plenty to go. I picked one pattern and figured, how much could there be? So, I wove… And wove… And wove… This went on for the last year. I will be honest, it was painful… I couldn’t believe that the end was nowhere in sight.

So determined to clear this little guy if it killed me, I finally last weekend wove until I saw the end of the warp, which on a loom like this with spools, is the paper tape end that tucks into the flange of the metal spool.

And there it is. 7 1/2 freaking yards. Of 10″ wide huck in fine linen. I could have done this in probably a couple sittings on a floor loom. Instead it took me months. Sigh…

I had needed one of the small looms for the group that went to the college for my retrospective. So back in January I decided to actually cut off a Doubleweave sampler I started, and rethread, and beam onto a floor loom. Desperate to weave something, anything, I sat down this week, and pulled out Jennifer Moore’s Doubleweave book, and started in again. Oh the joy of using my hands and feet. I only have two more units left on this sampler, and I’m loving every minute of it. I have the more challenging ones left, quilting in a pattern and doubleweave pick-up, but with my feet working as part of the team, I’m looking forward to this.

That said, I looked at that wall of Structos and thought, well damn, I’ll just take them one at a time, and dump them onto my little 8-shaft Tools of the Trade loom, and carry on. I’m actually excited. The planning is done (though I have to convert from a lift-plan to a treadling sequence, I have software for that), and once I dump onto my floor loom I can weave like the wind.

I was chatting about this brilliant decision of mine with a weaving friend, and as I took a sip of my tea, she blurted out, “Friends don’t let friends weave on a rigid heddle loom…” (Sorry, if you aren’t a weaver you won’t understand this comment) I spit my tea across the table! Them’s fighting words in the weaving community. Truth be told, I feel the same way, and again, please don’t send letters telling me the grand virtues and benefits of a rigid heddle loom, they have their place, much like my beloved Structos, but I have a dozen and a half table looms, all set up that are not fun to weave on. My blog, my opinion…

So I continue with my dye studies, and while I baby sit the pots for scouring and mordanting, I work on the quilt. It is all together, and I’m now starting on the 380-piece trumpet vine that meanders all throughout the quilt. This is something I really don’t want to finish, I’m having too much fun…

And, I looked at the calendar and realized I have exactly one month to make stuff for my guild sale. I still have lots of scraps left from my production years, though thankfully the pile is getting smaller. The pieced jacket I finally finished used up a nice amount. It will be for sale at the Jockey Hollow Weavers Show and Sale in Mendham NJ starting November 1.

I sold all those adorable bunnies I had last year, (blog post that shows the finished bunnies, scroll down…) and took the last of the mohair fabrics and scraps I had, and cut out four more. Mulder was doing his best to help.

So my days are full, garden for an hour, watch a module in the dye class for an hour, work in the dye studio for an hour, weave for an hour, do correspondence for an hour, practice cello for an hour, and fit in housework, processing a bucket full of tomatoes, basil for pesto (my freezer is filling up). Yes, I’m ridiculously busy, but having a blast, now that I am truly honest with myself and admitted I hate working on a table loom…

Stay tuned…

My favorite month…

I recall a similar blog post, a number of years ago, where I said that I always thought of September as the start of my new year. There is something about new beginnings, even though I’ve been out of school for a long time; fresh pencils, new clean copybooks, newly covered textbooks with brown shopping bags (I was a pro at this), and the chance to learn new stuff. I loved school, I loved learning, and still do.

I’ve talked throughout this year about how important it was to keep myself busy. I think I took probably a dozen classes so far this year, many of them through Peters Valley School of Craft, which is only an hour from me. The last of the classes I signed up for there, occurred Labor Day weekend, a three-day weaving class actually. Unfortunately the teacher, Brittany Wittman cancelled the week of the class. The title of the original class was ” Tactile Sensibility: Weaving Compositions”, focusing on weaving as a creative process and enhancing tactile sensibility through experimentation with structure and surface. Sounds like art speak, but hey, I’m a good weaver, but can always look at the loom differently. I was of course disappointed when I found out she cancelled, but Jesse Satterfeld, who is the fiber fellow this year at the fiber studio of Peters Valley, stepped in to run the class. He is quite talented, master’s degree from Kent State if I recall, and though the course description changed somewhat, I decided to follow through because, well why not…

I was a bit surprised that the three other participants in the class were all brand new weavers. But my needs would be different than theirs, and I’m a self-starter. And the looms were already warped, so I plowed ahead.

The looms were set up with the most basic blank canvas you could ever have in weaving. 10/2 cotton, 30 epi, about 9″ wide, and all white. In a straight draw. For the non weavers, that means that the threading was 1,2,3,4 and repeat. I brought some odd funky yarns from my studio, and a bucket of some of my oddiments left from the basketry class. We were given directions for plain weave, various twills, rib, basket weave, many of the same structures I already teach when I do a Learn to Weave class. So I started to play. I sat at the loom, with this “blank canvas” of a warp, and just wove.

Who does that in the weaving world? For three whole days? With no plan or goal? Just sample, play, see what happens if? I even jumped ahead to clasped weft, while the rest of the class was still trying to understand how to do a twill structure. I probably had a yard and a half woven by the end of the day.

Day two I came back, and tired of just weaving odd yarns in basic structures, I really started to look at the four shafts and what they were capable of. Honestly, to spend three days, with one canvas, just looking at it and seeing possibilities I really hadn’t looked at before, was such a gift. It was also a challenge beyond belief, to keep reminding myself that I’m not the teacher, to keep my mouth shut, and let the teacher do his job with the new students. This entire year has been a challenging exercise in this regard, and not always have I been successful, but I’m determined…

I started to play with a mock Theo Moorman, using one shaft as tie down, using a pick up stick to isolate where I wanted the threads. I had a few Catalpa pods and I played with adding them to the mix.

And I took some of the cordage I had made leftover from the basketry class I took back in the summer, and used that same inlay technique.

I even tried weaving in some of the little actual seeds, in the same technique.

The third day, I played around with things I know about but hadn’t ever thought they could work on a four shaft threading. I did some Brocade, which is nothing more than combining a 1/3 twill with a 3/1 twill, using a pick up stick.

And I did some actual inlay, which I haven’t done since a workshop I did in the 1970’s. I’d like to go back and revisit this technique, with a different warp and sett. We combined the inlay with damask, which was pretty cool.

In the end, I had a sampler that reached taller than any ceiling in my house.

I realized it would fit perfectly between the garage doors in the weaving studio, hanging from the ceiling, with a little prop support to keep it from dragging on the ground, becoming cricket fodder (even though Mulder is stalking them every night, I didn’t want my sampler to get in the way of his routine slaughter…)

And of course, September means that the weather is gloriously cooler, and that the garden season is starting to wind down. My gardens are amazing, considering where I started last spring with tiny little plugs. I am including lots of pictures because my 93 year old mom, has by request, no access to anything digital, and the only way she can enjoy my blog, which she loves to get, is by snail mail. So mom, here are a bunch of garden pictures…

The pool in the back of the picture is the neighbor’s yard, there is a stockade fence between us, running along behind the greenhouse, which is in the middle of my vegetable garden.

And of course, my tomatoes are coming in like crazy! I just oven dried a bunch of the little guys to pop in my freezer for the winter

And I’m starting to put the appliqué quilt blocks together. There is still a massive amount of work to do, even once all nine are together, because there is a 380 piece vine that runs through the entire quilt. But it is really cool to see the blocks take shape, and I’m beginning to finish the blocks that I couldn’t initially finish because they extended over the borders into the adjacent blocks.

The Maine Coon on top has a glorious tail that will extend into the adjacent block once it is added.

I’ve never understood the lure of a kit, and I’m a complete convert. Where I spent three days just staring at a blank “canvas” of a warp, just making stuff up as I went along, executing someone else’s design in a kit that provided all the materials, fabric selections and schematics has been such a different experience. I can see the benefits of both ways of working. One is a creative exercise and one is a technical exercise. Different parts of the brain! Different skill sets. It is probably why I love volunteering as a stitcher at the Shakespeare Theatre of NJ costume department. I just get handed assignments and I have to figure out how to do them.

Last night, I drove up the NY State Thruway, in the pouring rain, to a wedding of one of the girls my kids grew up with. Her family has remained close, and though neither of my children could attend, I was privileged to have been invited and made the trek up to the country club where the wedding was held. During the cocktail hour, the weather started to clear, and I wandered outside to look at the fountains and to my complete shock, there was the most glorious rainbow I’ve ever seen. Guests started pouring outside, and there were more photos of the rainbow I’m thinking than of the bride and groom!

And then as we all watched, a double rainbow appeared. That has to be good luck and a strong omen for the newly wed couple.

And tomorrow, I get to go “back to school”. My ten week class in natural dyeing starts, through Maiwa, and I’ve watched the intros, started a binder of the PDF printouts, organized my dye area, unpacked the “kit”, and am ready to sink my teeth into yet another opportunity to learn.

Fall is coming… stay tuned…