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  • Blog 2014-2021

seeing red

7/28/2020

 
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It was hard to get started
 writing today.
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First I had to
 pick raspberries
(because ripening fruit
waits for no blog...).
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Then just as I began
it suddenly seemed essential
to re-arrange the books by my side--
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-- a distracting and compelling activity,
especially once I started noticing
 the color red.
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Then it seemed a good idea
to wind a warp,
though it wasn't until
I opened my palette box--
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--and pulled out a handful
of madder-dyed yarn
(rather than the soft grey
​I thought I was after),
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that I realized
​I was in search of a little courage.

Something about
about my ppps of last week

seems to have struck a chord
(at least t
o judge by
most of your marvelous
and much appreciated comments),
and this morning I found myself
wondering/worrying
if expressing my overwhelming
(and often inarticulate) fury,
at the endless and malicious incitement
to violence of a certain person in power
(however brief my actual words),
meant something new was afoot
with how I present 
myself and my work
here on the blog.

A little think
​was definitely in order.
Picture
So even as the red yarn
was as surprising as the worry,

I made a cup of tea,
and​ settled into familiar routines:
-wound balls,
- moved a clamp from one end of the work bench to the other,
 -calculated
(2 yards, 2 strands at a time,
13 crosses = 52 ends = 104 yards).
- then wound the warp.
Picture
And while I was winding,
(because, now and again,
everyone needs the advice
 of a magical helper),

I consulted the frog,
who was kindly on hand to help.


(Note: frog front feet are called hands
 by the humans who write the posts at the top of a google search;
 what the frogs call them, I do not know).
Picture
Anyway, the frog
(who has been observing me
for many many years),
said:
"Sarah - as far as I,
a two-halved cast iron frog
who stores toothpicks in her belly
can tell,
you have devoted your life
to environmental and social justice
(even if you haven't known to call it that),
and I would bet that your readers
have probably noticed by now
how you feel,
and what you are trying to do,
which means regular overt reminders,
are probably neither useful nor effective--
nor even very interesting
as such discourse is not, actually,
a thing at which you excel--
except, of course,
when they simply burst out,
because, after all, mostly,
​you cannot help being you."
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What the frog means by that last statement,
I think, is that sometimes
I am a bit too much
​ of a muchness,
even for myself
(if that makes sense)--
Picture
-- subject to
(and often hugely motivated by)
wild idea storms,

and a ferocious desire
to do no more harm than necessary--
and maybe sometimes some good,
to the small part of the world

within walking distance of my home
(and connecting distance of this blog)--

if only one strand ​of yarn,
and one marvelous new friend
​ at a time--
and that though most of this energy
is happily channeled into my work,
sometimes it cannot be contained,
and my decades old mule packer self --
or maybe the furious feminist teenager--
​bursts  fiercely or exuberantly to the fore. 
Picture
Happily for me,
most of this exuberance
gets absorbed into and by
the results of said idea storms,
increasingly caught into the marvelous
and unexpected materials I continue to find,
 that are endlessly pleasurable
to work with and gaze upon.

And that
is the part
​ I like most
​to share here. 
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So my task going forward, then
is to keep practicing
letting my eyes unfocus
from the things
they have been trained to see
by the generations of  white colonizers
from whom I am descended
("this is not a plant, this is a weed--
the man who said so went to Harvard,
or maybe his father did,
or was it Princeton--
and though I can't remember what
 he actually is known for
I'm sure it was terribly important
and anyway you're related to him
so it would behoove you to listen"),
other humans and beings
who have been here all along
and whose true names 
I will probably never know
(what they call themselves, I mean)
sometimes allow me to catch a glimpse.
Picture
And the prickly things
I was told I needed to get rid of
and replace with something "attractive"
turn out to be useful and powerful
in ways I am only beginning to learn--
even as they have been fiercely themselves all along
with no need for, or interest in, my approval. 
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So thank you frog.
And you, dear reader --
for supporting this work
however it manifests itself.
And for coming along --
--nay, for participating--
in this time we have together
to learn about and make things 
with all that is provided by
​this glorious and abundant
(if we are care-full and kind
and occasionally ferocious in its defense,
and remember to ask permission
before attempting to transform
anything or anyone
because we think we can 'improve' kin),
earth.
Picture
And now that I've spilled my guts
all over these pages,

I think I'll return to threading
and reclaimed the color red
​in all its lefty glory,

 as I can.​
Picture

thoughts on a two apron morning

7/21/2020

 
Picture
How else but with two aprons,
 to pick ​rapidly ripening raspberries
Picture
and carry a garden watering timer
​(aka phone)
Picture
when neither your linen shirt
nor the  hand-me-over-unfinished-skirt
you're wearing underneath
​has a pocket?
Picture
Picture
Not that I couldn't remedy that.
A nice patch pocket on the skirt
would be the work of a moment.
​
And the shirt
is a continual work in progress--
the fact that it already has
a teensy tapestry pocket on one side
no reason to neglect the other.

It's just that I wear the shirt so often--
 like every day I'm not wearing
  the linsey-woolsey one--
that I just haven't gotten around to it.

Picture
Yes -- it's hard to tell from the drawing
that I'm wearing the linsey-woolsey shirt.
But it is  only short-sleeved shirt I have,
so not a tricky deduction.
Besides, it was just a few days ago.

Also, though I occasionally
bend the absolute truth in my comics
(for narrative clarity only),
I generally aim for sartorial veracity--
if only because I love my clothes
and am oddly attached
to the idea that  future me
might like to enjoy seeing them too
(while remembering what. weenie I am about shopping).

It also helps with the laundry.
("I seem to have worn Sarah-Dippity Skirts
in almost every drawing for this entire diary--
definitely time for a bath!")
Picture
But I digress.
Paper pockets
were the topic of the moment.
And they might actually be
a compelling experiment. 
Though the coffee filter yarn
is itself pretty fragile,
especially as singles
(I can't imagine using it for warp for instance),
it seems to stand up remarkably well
 tightly packed in a weft faced plain weave--
at least to the wear and tear 
of life as a diary cover--
growing soft, pliable,
and almost leather-like
​(if a little grubby),
with daily use.
Picture
And true shifu,
(woven from hand spun washi)
has been used for clothing for centuries,
so the idea is not totally outrageous --
except of course, that washi
(and the resulting kami-ito)
is often specifically made
for strength and longevity
while coffee filters are (usually)
single use items.
Though expected to withstand
 boiling water and soggy grounds, 
they are definitely not​
as intrinsically strong as washi.
But who knows?
In case you haven't noticed,
my life is a constant work in progress --
my chief delights arising from
​experiments with the materials at hand,
no matter the source.

And as we all learn daily,
you never know 
what is going to happen.
Picture
Indeed, I'm super excited
about watching the evolution 
of this diary I just made.
Not only do I get to play
with the wedge weave tapestry
I wove last May.
(2-ply vs the singles of the last one)--
Picture
​but I also got (and get) 
to see how the dog bane binding cordage
(made in the fall of 2018),
behaves with constant handling.
It's pretty rough right now,
but super strong
even if I did have to punch
​extra large holes in my signatures. 

Picture
Now what was this post supposed to be about?
No idea. 
Undoubtedly something
satisfying and insightful
that would rock all our worlds--
though nothing could equal
the roller coaster ride
of real life just now--
my mind growing, I hope,
as strong and flexible
and welcoming of change and possibility
 as dog bane cordage.
So a bit of paper-induced absurdity
never hurts alongside, say, things like
the recent groundbreaking
 Supreme Court Decision
that almost half of Oklahoma
falls within a Native American reservation
!

So I'll just end with this photo--
because it makes me happy,
and is a good reminder
to enjoy the hidden richness
in even the simplest
of moments.
Picture
​ps. Tiny chair carved by Linda Ligon's grandfather in about 1915 --
and though this chair didn't start
Thrums Books , Long Thread Media,
and the once-upon-a-lifechanging  Interweave Press,
Linda did, and all three make (and have made)
the world a better place for textiles
and their makers.


pps. Squash plant--a volunteer,
​grown by itself from a bit of compost,

whose contributions to my world
are blossoming even as I type.

ppps.  Because it has to be said:
​Fuck Trump

mille prickles on a continuous warp

7/14/2020

 
Picture
It's been a while
since I've woven on
a continuous warp,
Picture
​and had forgotten
​ how delightful
it can be
​t
o slowly swirl
​an emerging tapestry
​around the top and bottom beams
Picture
as the prickly plants
gradually emerge,
a letter at a time.
(The names I use for the plants, that is,
​since I do not know what they call themselves). 
Picture
The length of the thing
means there is time and space
to notice unexpected words,
Picture
​ like so many blackberries,
​among the thorns

I'm attempting to immortalize.
Picture
Nothing like a nice,
slow ramble--

or amble--
for noticing
 little details.
Picture
It has also been fun,
just after writing
Tucking The Tails,
to find another place
where the practice
of working in the ends as I go
adds moments
of enchantment
to weaving:
getting to glimpse
the elegance
of letters in reverse
out of the corner of my eye--
to admire grace of their shapes-- 
to relish the confusion of
of thinking a 'd'
is a 'p'
and trying to figure out
what word I had
 inadvertently written.
​
And how not to delight
in the dignified nod

of two 'r's
(distantly socializing as now is normal)
as they pass by, 
one going up, one down?
Picture
I'm weaving the letters
with naturally dyed wool.
The colors were a surprise
as at first I thought 
I'd write all the words
with black and charcoal fleece,
and I really appreciate 
the indigo and madder,
weld and lobaria pulmonaria,
insisting that they, too
​ get to promote
 the loveliness
of some of the sharp things
in my world.
Picture
The two-ply used coffee filter yarn
also had its way with me,
​thank goodness.
For though it is almost
too thick for a sett of 8 epi
(and anything but smoothly even),
it is a pleasure to touch,
to tap into place,
​to think about,
to make,
and to photograph. 
Picture
Using the two fibers together
does take a little getting used to--
 the extreme difference
in how each packs into place
 a little disconcerting
especially when I'm trying to count passes--
but I'm getting pretty good at eye-balling
how much the wool will pack down
in relation to the paper,
and the juxtaposition
of warm brown beads of coffee filter
against the smooth fuzz 
of fine spindle spun wool,
is a continual source of delight. 
Picture
Even if you're less
easily amused than I,
how not to adore
the exuberance
​of an 'e' coming to life?
Picture
I am hoping to fit
two more prickly things
onto the last few inches of the warp

and though am not quite sure there is room,
( the shed will be tiny no matter what
and I haven't even gotten to 
my list of local burrs),
I'm still going to try.
Picture
And luckily (hopefully)
I can soon put on another warp
for  apparently
my beloved PVC pipe loom
loves a good continuous one
as much as it loves four selvedge--
and there are so so many more
weirdly wonderful prickles
to investigate,
a letter at a time. 


ps. And in case you care about such specifics
 the warp is that merino/silk,
I wrote about back in May.
As you may recall
it didn't race my motor 
in the cloth samples I was weaving then,
but it does make a glorious warp
as I had hoped (3 ply for this tapestry),
​and I'm delighted that I have plenty more.

a month in textiles and comics

7/7/2020

 
Picture
Oh goody--
back to the blog
after a whirligig of a month.
Picture
Except -- 
this business of typing words--
​ I think I must be rusty.
Picture
​Or perhaps there are just so many
 thrilling and important and true words
written  by people far more eloquent than I--
shining light on our world
​with magnificent clarity--
Picture
that for today,
I'll let the cloth
and
 the comics
(and a few links)
say what I have to say.
Picture
Plantation Slave Weavers Remember by Mary Madison
Picture
Picture
(Listening to Rhiannon Giddens with Francesco Turrisi 
and here with Yo Yo Ma)
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 Luminist and Storymaker  from my guide, Backstrap Dialogues
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(Ki/Kin Pronouns from Robin Wall Kimmerer )

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And oh yes,
a chemo holiday
​ is an amazing thing.
Picture

    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


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