Yesterday on the latter, she wrote this:
Oh those blues. Six pots done. Three more to do today. This is the thing I find people misunderstand the most about synthetic dyes. Every single color is dyed alone and all the dye in the pot ends up in the yarn. I will reuse that water tomorrow for different colors.
Twenty-Four Years ago in this magazine
the blues truly spectacular.
when I again got to write about tapestry for Spin Off,
Though I was a true beginner for the first article, and still a relative novice for the second, I seem to have been utterly confident in my processes even as I was making most of them up as I went along-- writing about one approach then changing my dyes, my design techniques and even some of my materials (no more linen warp), one after another, with little outside influence and no internet suggestions to push me this way or that.
What possessed me to start weaving in all my ends and switch (almost overnight) to a complete natural dye palette when I clearly loved and was comfortable with the synthetic?
How did I know to trust whatever instinct suggested I start to start to use wool warp even though everything I heard/ read suggested cotton or linen?
Was it the confidence of youth?
My Brilliant Muse?
Happenstance?
why am I now embroidering on tiny minimalist tapestries,
eschewing most color,
weaving messy words
and hanging them all in mid air
just as interest in rich, colorful (often naturally dyed) pictorial tapestry is growing?
Can't blame youthful confidence this time.
Is it my fickle muse?
Or the Internet.
Summer Larson wrote this:
When I try to define my own artistic vision these same issues emerge. What is the “right” way to do things? Should I do it like person A? But I can see the value of doing it like person B and C, also. What will the experts think of what I have done? Will they like it as much as I do or will they see it as simplistic and childish? Will I look foolish for even pretending that this has value? Do they all know my deepest fear, that I really have no artistic ability after all? That there simply is no voice to be heard?
They also generated even more questions.
How have I have kept moving all this time--
how, despite angst and uncertainty and endless internal conversations:
"Really Sarah, you already have all the stuff for Lanaset dyes
including that amazing book of Linda Knudson samples. It is ridiculous to switch"
and
"Nobody lets their warp show -- it isn't tapestry if the warp shows"
and
"You've GOT to put a frog in it. All your tapestries have frogs"
and
"Embroidering on your tapestries is sacrilege.
Keep your media separate.
Remember, you don't approve of mixed media."
I managed to stumble from this:
Sometimes I also miss making it and wonder if I should
revisit some of those beloved techniques.
and I couldn't make it work.
The frog refused to stay.
So maybe I can't go back.
Would I really want to anyway?
What other choice is there?