a field guide to needlework
  • Tapestry
    • 1994 - 1999
    • 2000 - 2003
    • 2004 - 2007
    • 2008 - 2009
    • 2009 - 2012
    • 2013 - 2015
    • 2016 part one
    • 2016 - 2017
    • 2018
    • 2019
    • 2020
    • 2021
    • 2022
    • 2023
    • 2024
  • Newsletter
  • Store
  • Blog 2014-2021
  • About
  • Comics
    • Fatal Distraction
    • Manuscript Revised
    • Stripes
    • Enid and Crow >
      • Enid and Crow: Days In The Life
      • Enid and Crow: The Peregrinations
      • Enid and Crow: Color Choices
      • Enid and Crow: Carried Away
      • Enid and Crow: Somewhere!

One at a Time

6/25/2018

 
Picture
Sometimes I forget
 the impact new things can have.
In the endorphin rush of a thrilling idea,
pausing to sit with it ​for more than a moment or two
rarely enters my head.
As a friend once said to me, 
"Must you do everything 500%?"
Picture
Apparently I must.
(Well, I'm pretty half-assed about many things,
but it's generally an enthusiastic kind of half-assed).

But given that reality,
it's amazing that it was a full two years
between the time my running partner Nancy, and I
first took off our shoes (for half a block),
until we were barefoot/minimalist running full time-- 
two years that included 
a crazy shoe-juggling period
where every run included three or four changes:
from 'conventional running shoes,'
to minimalist running shoes, 
to bare skin,
and back.
Picture
It was hassle to be sure,
​but worth the trouble:
to build calluses,

to strengthen all the new muscles
to NOT injure the bajillion little bones in our feet,
and  to get over my slight embarrassment
at being seen doing this crazy-seeming thing that felt so good.
(Not that many people are out and about at 5:30 AM, but still)

Anyway, thanks, 49 year old Sarah,
​ for giving it a try,
and for giving it time.
Picture
But even as I am grateful for whatever foresight we had,
I still forget that other body parts:
 eyes
nerves
ears
and hearts,
are as in need as feet, 
​and that too much of anything, 
​ too quickly,
can have a bigger effect than one might expect.
​Even  color.
Picture
Indeed, so overwhelmed was I
by that tiny red tapestry
that I hid all the freshly dyed skeins
in the bottom of my palette box,
turning with relief to some soft, safe, blue/greens.
Picture
Which was great except
that apparently it wasn't so much the intensity of the red
as the quantity.
For​ my freshly awakened rods and cones
 demanded that I include the wisp of purple
I'd hidden in the bottom of the box
after an over-reaction
to my last dalliance with super bright color.
Picture
Again though, I leapt before I thought --
and had to go find a paint color for my comic about the new piece 
for there was nothing in my lovely limited palette
that came close to describing that bright dot of purple
that dazzled and overwhelmed me at once.

And when I added said color (not quite right, but close enough) 
I was overwhelmed once again--
that bright hue
sucked up all the air in the page.

Who knew what DRAMA
there was to be found
in a few square millimeters?
Picture




But it's an interesting kind of drama.
In the right mood
​it is downright entertaining to notice
 how the simplest shifts
 change the tone of everything--
a  color
or fiber
or technique
bringing the familiar
into crazy new territory.
​ 
But what use are those wild leaps
if they are accompanied by so much extra information 
that it is  difficult to tell 
to what one is actually reacting? 
Picture
Indeed it could be that the color RED
was so overwhelming
only amidst the other things in my life at the moment,
not least the thrill that
​ Fringeless,
(the online four selvedge warping class
Rebecca Mezoff and I have been putting together),
is nearly out in the world.

It might even be  that this last
is a bright red four selvedge tapestry
​ all by itself. ​
Picture
The trailers are live, 
 Rebecca is finalizing the videos as I type, 
most of my drawings are in her hands,
​and early bird registration opens -- um-- TODAY  (June 25).
Picture
The actual class will become available July 9th,
and I can hardly wait to see what wonderful and dramatic things
 you weavers (and soon to be weavers)
will create once you are free
from hems, edge finishing and  thrums.

 I've never done anything like this before
yet I believe the class will be great
(if, occasionally, a little goofy).
Rebecca's firm and experienced hand on the camera
and on the video editor 
ensures that the information
is clear, thorough 
and lighthearted. 
And unlike an in-person workshop
where one or the other of us throws information at you
willy nilly for days (at least that's my exhausting approach),
 this workshop allows you to learn at your own pace,
watching the same videos again and again if you want
till each step makes sense.


But this going live business
is also quite nerve-jangling for me
because pretty soon
anyone at all
will be able to hear me play the concertina
in a venue I couldn't possibly have imagined
back when I swore to my first teacher,
that I'd NEVER, not ever,
EVER play in public.
Picture
Not that you actually see me playing.
All the video footage is about warping
and weaving
and yarn
and looms
and goofy textile joy.
 (Rebecca and I have both
 devoted our lives to tapestry
and take it so seriously,
that we can joke about it endlessly). 

But I was an adult beginner musician,
and am just a teensy bit fragile
about the way I play the tunes I love so well.
To be sure I've worked hard for the past decade,
and I practice daily,
but it's a private thing.
​Or it was.
Picture
Then again,
 a couple of years ago
my diary comics were a private thing too.
And now the fact
​that I didn't wait for my face to dry
before painting my hat,
doesn't stop me for a second from putting it here.
And I do love those tunes.

So here is to us all being brave--
to trying things out:
 tapestry, tunes,
color, comics,
or being ourselves.
​
But perhaps just one of these
(or two),
at a time.

madder red

6/19/2018

 
Picture
R. tinctorium from my garden- well aged
Frankly, I wasn't  hopeful.
This grubby collection of  hastily collected
mud-encrusted roots had been drying out in an old torn paper bag
for... gosh... 15 years? More?

I'd planted the madder seeds sometime in the 1990s--

 the sticky leaves and stems scratching bare arms
and clinging to small boy clothing 
when my 28 year old son was
​a significantly smaller person than he is now--
and I remember being so impatient,
first for it to grow,
 then with its unpleasant and voracious character. 
Finally I dug out a few roots,
stuck them in a bag,
and forgot about them.
Picture
​Freshly gathered madder DOES need to age --
or so said Michelle Whipplinger
at the 'RED' workshop I took from her in 2000
at the Color Congress in Ames Iowa.
"It takes time," said Michelle,
"for the Alizarin to reach its maximum potential"
(something about sugars turning to starches
that I could probably look up to clarify, yet won't right now...)
But 
this pile of sticks did not look promising. 
Picture
Still,  I shook off the mud,
broke the big bits apart,
cut them into the smallest chunks I could manage
with my not very sharp secateurs,
and  dumped them into a jar to soak. 
Without a dye-dedicated blender to puree the softened chunks
 the color would not be terribly strong.
But so what?
It was just an experiment.
Picture
R. Tinctorium from my garden - freshly gathered
And since these days
I'm a half-assed, seat-of-the-pants dyer--
and already making a big wet mess--
I might as well dig up some fresh roots
​and try them too.
Picture
Now when it comes to fresh madder,
there are two things you're not supposed to do:
1. dig the roots in the spring/ summer in the midst of the growing season
​2. use them right away.
Picture
But I am in the mood now
(well I was on Sunday-- two days ago).
The madder plants were encroaching
on the ripening raspberry patch
 and raspberry canes are prickly enough without
having to push one's arms through sticky madder leaves.
 I was ready to hack them back--
and why not make a few exploratory stabs with a shovel
​at the same time?
Picture
Fresh and dry cut roots went into separate jars
(and a little dry weld into a third just because). 
After an overnight soak they all went
into a hot water bath to simmer and soften.
Weld is fine being simmered more directly
​ but this double boiler-ish jar method
​ is an easy way to keep the temperature
of the madder from climbing into the 'brown' range.
Picture
Meanwhile, back at my work table
I filled just one more Kuchulu spindle with white yarn,
then plied it ​while listening to the A Playful Day podcast
(broadening my natural dye rainbow during Pride),
before alum mordanting my pile
of two ply "tea" skeins
Picture
Two fisting at my work table: Hepty Spindle in back, Kuchulu in front, Jodi Gear Tea Mug on the right, Simon Pearce coffee mug on the left.
I call them tea skeins
because most were spun 
over cups of tea with friends.
This functional 10 gram Turkish spindle 

(made by Ed Jenkins)
 lives in my purse, it is also ever ready
for long lines at the Post Office 
and to keep my hands 
from the otherwise inevitable
napkin-shredding.
Picture
iced coffee and macaroons in Portland OR with my beloved sister and niece
But back to dyeing.

​Photos of mordanting (or mordanted) yarn
are rarely interesting. 
And anyway, I forgot to take them
so have none to bore you with. 
Nor, alas, did I document the dye extraction process.
But both are pretty standard.

Mordant: Alum at 10-12% WOF and Cream of Tarter at 5- 6%

Dye extraction: soak, simmer, pour off, soak, simmer, pour off.
As mentioned, I try to keep the simmer temp about 160 F ish
to avoid brown tones in the red.
Picture
Instead, then, you get a foggy photo of jars in a pot
and then-- voila-- red yarn!

I kept the first and second extractions separate:
the skein on the lower right was the first extraction from the dry madder
and is significantly darker even if this photo doesn't really show it.
The other three are the second extraction from the dry madder
and the first and second from the fresh.
There was some variation among these,
but actually less than I expected.

What I also didn't expect,
​was how un-orange the color is. 
Picture
I've been dyeing with madder for decades,
always with purchased flakes
or extracts (once they became available)--
everything carefully calculated, weighed and measured--

and there have been some pretty spectacular colors.
How not with this marvelous dye?
But because so much available madder
is R. cordifolia rather than R tinctorium,
the color often leans well into the orange range.

But this yarn does not.
Half-assed, casually measured, fresh or dry,
R. tinctorium is something else again.
Picture
 I'm dyeing as I write this,
pausing between sentences
to give things a stir, or a rinse,
 to hang the skeins on the line to drip,
to oooh and aahhhhh,
or take another photo.

Just added the one below:
first skeins and the first exhaust from the same jars.
The main thing I'm noticing? 
The colors on the fresh madder skeins
are brighter, clearer, and slightly less orange
than the dry.
Anyone have thoughts on this​???
Picture
Two days ago I was about to start weaving,
and got distracted.
But I guess now I know
what this little four selvedge warp
has been waiting for.
Picture
And -- OH WOW --one more photo--
(sorry, there have been a lot)--
two more exhaust skeins casually tossed into the jar with
what I thought were the well-extracted fresh roots.
How gorgeous is THAT????
Picture

The Right Tool: Tapestry Bobbins

6/12/2018

 
Picture
So how silly is it
​to spend a chunk of the morning
​wandering around the garden, 
looking for the perfect place to pose
(excuse me, to STYLE)
my suddenly expanded collection 
of hand turned tapestry bobbins?
Picture
Rosewood extra slim bobbins by Alexandra Iosub
Or maybe silly isn't the word -- 
it's more that I find it interesting to notice
that my desire to do this
​ has become something to notice.
​If you know what I mean.
Picture
Skinny Minnie bobbins, with and without brass tips, by Milissa Dewey
Not that I don't relish the warm feelings I get
from visually satisfying images.
It's just that after a time one begins to have some judgement.
This photo will do.
That one will not.

And since Photography is not my gig,
I'm a little bit annoyed
that I might consider avoiding an idea for a blog post
because I don't have good enough photos.
Picture
bobbin: Dewey/ Iosub/ Dewey
So I don't.
Avoid it, that is.
Indeed, as most of you know
I usually do show my work
(and tools, and face)

in  less than perfect conditions:
sprawled across an old piece of cardboard,
​in active use,
 neither well lit nor artfully arranged
so probably you're not even here for photographic eye candy.
Picture
Indeed, you're probably not surprised 
that I was so excited to use
  these
custom, extra slim rosewood 
beauties  
by Alexandra Iosub,
that I neglected to take more than

a couple of unwrapping snaps for Instagram.
(don't you love how she stitched them into that scrap of fabric?)
Picture
Picture
Or that though I meant to take more pics once I began to warp,
the process sucked me in,
​and photos were not taken.
Having the perfect tool for a job is so distracting.
Picture
Four Selvedge Auxiliary Warp # 1
And who could pause for a moment
when a second package arrived:
a collection of Skinny Minnies
​(with and without brass tips)
made by Milissa Dewey of Bobbin Boy?
​Not me. 
Those too were put right to work.
Picture
Four Selvedge Tapestry; spindle spun wool warp, linen and wool weft; indigo; 2 1/2" x 2 1/2"
But this morning
​ ​I really wanted to try to show them off
in all their luscious, hand turned,
hardwood glory--
Picture
Iosub/ Dewey
even if that meant getting my feet wet
and taking photos
​in a place where they will ​rarely, if ever, be used. 
Picture
Iosub/ Dewey
But so what?
A small attempt at bobbin porn never hurt anyone.
​Least of all me.
And vicarious pleasure is most definitely a thing.
Picture
Then again,
given a choice between styling exquisite tools
and actually using them, 
I usually choose the latter.
Picture
Which I guess is one of the many ways
you can tell 

that I am a weaver
and not a photographer. 
For which I am a little bit sorry --
but not all that much.
Because weaving is the BEST,
​don't you think?

Twice the Fun

6/5/2018

 
Picture
Sometimes
doing two things at once
is a handy way
to avoid making decisions.
Picture
These tapestries began as a
a regular four selvedge warp--
Picture
but quickly evolved into parallel dwellings
separated and connected
​by a single warp.
Picture
I fully intended to cut them apart,
Picture
Sisters/Time Zones; Hand Woven Tapestry; each 1 1/2" x 1 1/2"; spindle spun flax and wool; natural dye. ©Sarah C Swett 2018
but  somehow
​just couldn't.
Picture
There's an awful lot of real estate in my world these days.
Picture
Good thing the houses are so easy to clean.
    Picture

    ​Sarah C Swett 
    tells stories
    with
    ​ and about

     hand spun yarn. 


    Picture
    Click for info on
    my four selvedge
    warping class
    with
    ​ Rebecca Mezoff  
    fringeless


    Categories

    All
    Backstrap
    Books
    Cellulosic Experiments
    Clothes
    Coffee Filter Yarn
    Comics
    Distractions
    Dyeing
    Embroidery
    Hand Spinning
    Knitting
    Linsey Woolsey
    Looping
    Mending
    Milkweed
    Out In The World
    Plain Weave
    PVC Pipe Loom
    Shoes
    Sketchbook
    Slow Literature
    Tapestry
    Textile Tools
    Things To Wear
    Vague Instructions
    Willow

    Archives

    September 2021
    June 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014

things to make:
yarn . music . friends
whatever it is you cannot 

not
begin
Proudly powered by Weebly