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books with fibers caught in their pages

8/25/2020

 
Picture
Milkweed Cordage (last year's, field retted); Wild Dress by Kate Fletcher
Since it'll probably be a whole week
till I next have a chance
​ to go on and on about Milkweed
(a whole week!!),
​what better way to begin
talking about  a few of
​the books I've been reading

than with ​a photo of cordage in progress
shading the pages---
Picture
especially since
one of the many great things
about making cordage
​(vs other methods of bast fiber yarn construction),
is that I can twist and read
at the same time.
Picture
Cormo wool (drum carded); Hepty Spindle; The Invisible Sex by J.M. Adovasio, Olga Soffer & Jake Page
Same goes for
spinning well prepared wool
with a familiar, lightweight spindle.
Picture
Picture
Indeed, 
reading and yarn making

are inextricably linked
in my odd little world.
Reading/knitting too,
though I don't seem to have  any photos
of that blissful activity--
even if I  have (and wear),
a great number
of  the not-very-complicated
but perfect-to-knit-while-not-looking
 garments, that result. 
Picture
Picture
How lovely, then,
to dive into Milkweed
with someone who has spent
far more time than I 
(at least so far),
exploring its mysteries. 
Aimee Lee's
Making Milkweed Paper
is actually a reference I've had for ages,
her work an unending inspiration.
Click the link with her name
and check out all her work.
The knitted books! The icons!
The Hanji dresses.
OH, be still my heart. 

And to slip from those
ethereal garments,
to Kate Fletcher's thoughtful 
and curious essays
 in Wild Dress--
is a mighty thing indeed.
Even better to be making a garment
while turning the pages.
Picture
Last year's unevenly field retted Milkweed being stripped from mildewed stalks
Then again, 
if we're going to bring everything
back to the integral role
of woman the maker,
who can resist the engaging prose
of The Invisible Sex,
or ignore the pleasure
of wrapping my mind
around the elemental--
nay the central role--
of first cordage makers in pre-history--
probably female and mostly ignored by (male) archaeologists--
while ​physically twisting fibers myself.
Cuz some ways of being a human female
never change at all.
​I could hardly put it down.
Picture
How satisfying, then,
to remember that
I don't just make cordage--
I weave with it too,
and so turn to 
Anatomy of a Tapestry.
(no book weight necessary
as it has a spiral binding so opens flat!)
by Jean Pierre Larochette
and his daughter, Yadin Larochette.

Picture
I mean -- actual woven illustrations,
 exquisite drawings,
 wide ranging understanding,
rock solid information,
irresistible charm, and deep knowledge--
I am beyond proud
to know them
and really really glad
​to have this book.
The sections on preservation, conservation
and restoration are a gold mine indeed,
and I anticipate a few--
--erm--adjustments--
to the way I've been storing my work.
I love them so much.

Real Reviews!
Rebecca Mezoff
Elizabeth Buckley
Picture
Sue Lawty's exquisite book,
Earth Materials
also has a 
satisfying binding --
indeed, the whole book
is  lovely to look at,
the pages yummy to the touch.
Her work, be it with
fiber, pebbles, lead--
​or anything else for that matter--
broadens my work
and the way I think about it
in a most satisfying way.
Picture
Picture
Picture
When I've needed
to take a brief step back
from textiles
(hard to believe, but sometimes true),
I've been re-delighted
with the imaginary,
decidedly un-sentimental--
even pointy-- elven worlds
created by Sylvia Townsend Warner--
one of my all time favorite authors.
I'm so very happy
that some of her
hard-to-find work
has been recently republished
​by Hand Held Press.
​

Given half a chance,
I'd probably order
half a dozen other books
from this small publisher.
Indeed, I bet I eventually will.
Picture
But back to tapestry --
because seemingly
somehow
everything  eventually
returns to tapestry 
in some form other--
if only as  metaphor--
though not in this instance--
there is one more book
I want to mention --
at least one more that I now have
in my physical possession:
the magnificent
The Art Is The Cloth 
by Micala Sidore
Picture
This book is a treasure trove of tapestry--
as full of interesting and compelling work
as this page is with hyphens.
Fuller, actually.
(Is fuller the word I actually want? Not sure).
At any rate,
there are many thigns I could say
for there are  many tapestries 
and kinds of tapestries in the book
and I do not have the room to cover them all
so will stick with this elemental truth:
it is  fun.
To turn the pages, 
see what magical tapestry world
Micala will share with us next,
to watch myself caught
by delight and admiration--
to notice what I notice--
to surprise myself
with the works
​that hook my eye and heart--
Now that is a treat indeed. 

Proper Reviews:
Rebecca Mezoff
Elizabeth Buckley
Ramona Sakiestewa
Picture
Picture
Well, now I've almost worn out my mouse batteries
putting links into this post
so it must be time to quit.
Except that while I'm in the mode
 I want to add a short list
of wondrous  and soon-to-be-released
Tapestry/Textile books you can pre-order.
Once they are physically in my world
getting milkweed, coffee filters
​ and wool fibers caught between their pages
I'll talk about each one again,
but in case you like to do
​a big old book order all at once,
and then have them trickle in
like little unexpected treats
​for your future self,
here are a few you'll want to have on your list.



Books to Pre-Order:

​The Long Thread Special Issue  by Linda Ligon
(lucky me to be in this one too--and I can hardly WAIT to see the rest of it)

The Art of Tapestry Weaving by Rebecca Mezoff 
(This book -- I've had the privilege of reading early drafts -- a thorough and glorious resource--
just wait till I have more room to talk about this book!!!!!)

How To Weave A Navajo Rug and Other Lessons from Spider Woman 
by Lynda Teller Pete and Barbara Teller Ornelas.
(Two fifth generation Navajo weavers writing about their work and generously sharing techniques and family stories with us all--THE people from whom to learn stories, techniques and understanding.)



Books Mentioned in the Blog Post:
​

Wild Dress by Kate Fletcher
Making Milkweed Paper by Aimee Lee
The Invisible Sex by J.M. Adovasio, Olga Soffer & Jake Page
Anatomy Of A Tapestry by Jean Pierre Larochette and Yadin Larochette
Earth Materials by Sue Lawty​ 
Of Cats and Elfins and Kingdoms of Elfin by Sylvia Townsend Warner
The Art Is The Cloth  by Micala Sidore

milkweed blows my mind -- again

8/18/2020

 
Picture
So a funny thing happened.

Well not funny exactly --
more--
mind expanding?
I dunno. 
It was cool though--
at least-- 
eventually.
At first --
 not so much.
Picture
As you may recall,
last week on the blog post
I was blissing out about
my recent Milkweed immersion--
 feeling, I can now say,
 just a teensy bit smug.

"Yay! Look at me 
with my newly fashioned
minimalist distaff 
and cross arm spindle
making all kinds
of super nice yarn
out of Milkweed garden waste!
I love it soooo much.
It's almost like
Flax!"

Well, smug and thrilled.

At any rate,
practically the moment 
I pushed 'send' on the newsletter 
to let you know that the post was ready
(assuming you're on my mailing list),
I grabbed my beloved tools
and raced outside--

--only for the Milkweed
to... ah...
well, I'll let it
​speak for itself.
Picture
Just so you know,
it said
as my spindle fell to the ground
for the third time in a row, 
I'm not Flax.

"Huh?" said I--
picking up the spindle
​and checking for cracks.
Picture
Oh, I have nothing against the stuff --
it continued without pause.
It's great! 
Super strong -- soft-- agreeable--
a distant cousin of mine. 
Slightly more uniform
since you all have been
manipulating
for centuries
(or maybe it, you),
to suit your belief
in efficiency and production.
I mean --
all those precise tools
with their satisfying names:
rippling combs, flax breaks, 
 scutching  knives, hackles and such,
that keep everyone in line.

It's just -- I'm not it. 

Now, I can see why 
you might think it reasonable
to think of me as such--
and maybe even believe
it is a compliment. 

​I mean --
I am a bast fiber 

and you have been 
doing your best
I'm sure,
what with your strick
and your combing
​and your carding of 'waste'--
Picture
your plying and measuring,
your calculation of yards per pound,
your dreaming of ends per inch,
and interior assignment
​of relative 'goodness'
influencing plans
for sizing the strands
to 'tame' the stray 
ends that stick out of the skeins. 
​
And you've got to admit
I've been pretty agreeable.
As I said, 
I am bast 
and a certain kind of order
works with my nature.
​
So don't think I don't 
​appreciate the attention
​and effort.
Picture
It's just --
well --
doesn't smooth, creamy cordage,
twisted an inch at a time,
without tension,
​(yours or mine),
suit us both
​much better?
Picture
Well, doesn't it?

​It's not just the pace--
(though really, what IS the hurry-
after all the fun we've had
playing hide and seek
amidst my stalks and outer bark,
getting to know each other
​a strand at a time,
do you really want 
to be done so soon?
)
Picture
Nor is it entirely 
my ego--
though I have to admit
I like my every fiber
to be admired
and used--
no matter its length--
Picture
--even when you are
'zooming'
or 
'telephoning'
with your friends.
Picture
It's -- well--
I was kind of hoping
you might see
that "productive plant" thinking,
is not always the last word.

​
I mean we all know
you homo sapiens
with your big old brains,
are champion tool makers --
efficient and clever and all that--
and I'm sure your spindles
and what have you
have enhanced your life
no end--
Picture

​--but is it necessary
to PROVE it all the time?
To worship control? 
To make sure every plant 
is named and categorized,
and succumbs to your will
by giving up its whole, diverse community
and all its marvelous friends
only to exist henceforward
​in rows
with other genetically identical plants
as if only then
will it have validity---
and, dare I say it,
​use?

Or, conversely,
to relegate wild plants
to fairy tales
as though 
a relationship with one
is not an everyday sort of pleasure
to be enjoyed,
but rather a thing associated
with excessive female power
and curses
and thus,
once more
a thing to be subdued
​or eliminated
(not that one doesn't relish 
the plant power of  cousin Nettle
I mean -- who wouldn't)?
Picture
Must you,

continued the strands
 draped across my lap,
perhaps forgetting
​that I was even there,

 tame all the wild places
and cut back every prickly being
so you don't get scratched by the thorns 
that are there to create little privacy--
and maybe keep you out of  ki's  business
for five seconds?
Picture
Or are you capable
only

of listening to (and believing)
 the chatter
in your own big brain
(equally good, it seems
at making you feel like a total loser
and the cleverest of all),
 while hardly noticing
the odd bit of wisdom
a little plant
that is not flax,

might have?

​
Just saying. 

Something to consider. 

"Thanks," said I.
"I will--
​consider, that is."
Picture
And while we're at it,

added the loquacious fiber,
not quite as an afterthought,

how about taking
a big old breath
of hot summer air--
and having a sip of tea--
for life is short,
and here we are,
​together,

listening to the wind
and relishing the miracle
of your opposable thumb.
Picture
"Ok," said I
dipping my fingers
in a dish of coolish water
and adding a long white  strand
to the ever-growing puddle 
​of cordage in my lap. 
​

"All right."

milkweed 'n me

8/11/2020

 
Picture
11.8 grams--
Picture
a week's work.
Picture
Or, more truly,
a week's pleasure--
Picture
day after day
of long white fibers
making themselves known
a strand at a time--
Picture
beautiful  bast
in a small clump
of Aphid-infested plants
my neighbor wanted gone.
Picture
For months --
nay,  years--
​I've been trying
to learn about local bast fibers--
Picture
Nettle, Dogbane, and Milkweed too--
reading the sparse literature--
 mostly about working with Nettles
(thank you Allan Brown for your work)--
watching the odd video
(thank you Sally Pointer),
and trying,
​with limited/mixed success,
Picture
to make friends 
with these glorious materials--
one of which,
this week,
for whatever reason,
​and rather against the odds,
Picture
agreed to work with me. 
Picture
experimental distaff stick (vs baskety thing)--willow whip without bark from last week's post. For more on previous distaff experiments, type 'distaff' into the search bar above.
This is not even supposed 
to be the right season--
not least because Milkweed plants
are essential to the entire life cycle
of Monarch Butterflies

(should Monarch be capitalized? Anyone know?)
and to cut down the stalks

before the butterflies have flown
is deeply irresponsible--
which makes me
​insanely grateful
to my neighbor
​and Aphids.
Picture
Well, truth be told,
I'm grateful, too,
to all the people
who have worked with
​these plants for millennia,

as well as to all the plants
that have helped me,
in turn, to practice
and learn.
Picturewhat was left in the combs after the long fibers were drawn through

And really,
how not to also be pleased--
in the moment
and in retrospect--
by my former self
for her persistence
​and (sometimes painfully)
​ slow acquisition
of knowledge
skills,
​familiarity,
dexterity,
and
dare I say,
patience--
Picture
all of which have helped
​to make me available
for these beauties:
to the obvious long fibers,
Picture
to the 'leftover' medium length ones
that were ready to be re-combed,
drawn out 
into a form of top
wound on a  wrist (vs stick) distaff
​and made into lovely yarn themselves,
Picture
and to the shortest ones
which were just the right length
for a couple of easy-to-spin
​hand carded rolags
and allowed for
absolutely no waste at all --
barring the now composting
​scraped off outer green bits 
and the drying-for-kindling inner stalks.
Picture

How lucky ​can a gal get?
(says she to her future self,
lest she forget, sometime, 
how wondrous and generous
​ the world can be).



--and a sartorial post script--
You might well think my just-off-the-needles
Targhee/Debouillet/Cormo etc tank top is all I've worn this week.
And you might be right!
Also the blue pants. I have to say. Oh my word.
They come from MAIWA --first new pants in years and years.
A gift to my legs and butt, from me.
No promotion thing -- they have no idea-- I am just utterly in love.
Be warned -- there will be patched pants and long term mending
(as needed though none yet despite continual wear), in future blogs...

Cordage and the inner capitalist--an exchange of views

8/4/2020

 
Picture
Like so many things,
​it began simply enough.
Our sidewalk was blocked--
the narrow passageway
between an exuberant grape 
and clump of coppiced willow 
had become a tunnel--
nay, an obstacle course--
and needed clearing.
Picture
Not that I'm not a fan
of mysterious, woodsy passages
along city sidewalks,
but to render ours impassible
to anyone in a wheelchair
pushing a stroller,
or getting from here to there
without the dreaded internal combustion engine,
is unconscionable.
​
So after a brief thanks for the enthusiasm
of this magical and self-sufficient shrub,
out came the secateurs,
and soon enough the bed
​of our ancient pickup
was full of leafy stalks.
Picture
It's a great truck --a patient and irreplaceable 1985 Nissan that starts every time, despite its rare outings
Ordinarily, most of the willow shoots
get cut in mid-winter and live their second lives
as figurative willow sculptures 
or oversized shapes.
(they seem willing enough though there is no way to be sure).
The fruits of summer sidewalk brushing, however,
generally go straight to the community 
yard waste recycling  drop off--
at least once there is a full load
which can take all summer
​cuz who wants to drive?
Picture
Anyway, this time, as I dragged over
an armload of branches
​ 
I suddenly remembered
that
 basket weavers often gather
willow bark in the spring and summer.
Was it too late?
Nothing to lose by trying.
And OH!
Instant bliss!
The bark peeled off 
in elegant and satisfying sheets.
Picture
What to do with them?
First and easiest thing 
was to coil them up to set them aside,
then get back to the project at hand
in the studio. 
But-- what if I peeled off the outer bark?
Would that be hard?
Well no!
Indeed,  it was as delicious
as the initial peeling.
And when I scraped each willow wand
with the edge of a palette knife 
or handy oyster shell before peeling
(as per a  Sally Pointer bramble cordage video),
it got even better.


Then new options arose --
-leave in the wide sheets?
-split into narrow strips for cordage?
-twist now, or let dry and re-wet?  
​Why not try them all!
The air was so dry
the thin strips were almost crisp 
​in no time it all.
And the willow seemed willing enough --
indeed, the dance between
my hands,
the willow bark,
and the part of my brain
that loves more than anything
to have thrilling material adventures,
grew as sexy as a tango.
Picture
And this is where the inner capitalists showed up.
First:
"​This is NOT what you were planning to do today, Sarah."
Picture
Then:
"If this IS what you're doing,
because, duh, you've been out here all morning
without noticing how bloody hot it is getting,
how exactly are you going to make use of this
and is it related in any way to your goals
whatever they might be
because I sure can't tell
though as a distinctly non-essential worker
in times like these
it would behoove you 
​to justify your existence somehow."
Picture
yummy madder red cloth from last week's warp
"And in case you forgot, 
you have some excellent
and significantly faster projects
already underway
that are going to turn into
useful and important things
that might actually lead somewhere.
And dont' try to tell me 
you're going to write about this
on your blog because..
..."
Picture
Picture
And so on.
You probably get the picture.
No need to quote it all
because the point is that this time,
instead of rebelling against this voice,
or trusting that it has
 my best interests at heart
and is only trying to keep me safe
(as it insists),
I actively encouraged it. 
"Ooooh -- tell me more!"
I cooed, as green willowy curls
fell to the deck beside me.  
"Tell me ALL about 
 how I should conduct myself?"
Picture
And here's what it wanted me to do:
-make things that were faster (ie produce more stuff)
-make thing that would make money,
(whatever those might be),
-at the very least go watch more videos,
so if I had to do weird shit
I'd at least do them the right way
and at the same time
contribute myself as fodder
 for the attention economy
and maybe develop a craving
for an unnecessary plastic object
I never knew existed while I was about it
(perhaps a purpose built willow bark peeler...).
Picture
It's then that it became clear
that this voice was not really mine.
The tone was wrong
And so was the language.
Though my voice,
does want me to stick with projects,
it is generally because
it is immersion that I crave and adore,
passion that has proved to improve everything,
slowing down, opening up
and falling in love with the materials and work

that leads to the making of magical objects
that I'm thrilled and proud
to sell/share with other people.

Also, I knew perfectly well
that I would never, EVER use
​ spindle spinning and backstrap weaving
as weapons against myself,

How very very interesting, then.
And what a relief!
Picture
willow bark: freshly peeled on the left, boiled as per the comic above on the right.
If it is not me
trying to 'sabotage myself'
I can carry on with glee
and curiosity--
learning more
 about materials, 
and about those pesky
​and very rude voices.
How else have they been
having their way with me?
I want to know!
And what fun to poke at my brain,
watch it go all scared and protective
and close up like a sea anemone,
then coax it open again
to let in a tide of fresh perspectives
​I never knew existed--
Picture
--thrilling ideas
with which our tricksy
and wildly unpredictable world
is now awash.
Ideas about 
kindness,
​equality
​(in pay as well as health care),

conviviality,
curiosity
community,
​connection
and maybe even
​cordage?
Picture
Darn it -- once again I went off on a tangent.
Thanks as ever for sticking with me --
and for all the marvelous marvelous encouragement
in the comments last week.
​You are the BEST!
    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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