Still Capturing Color

Turns out my cell phone gives more accurate color, at least from this end.  I appreciate so much all of you who have given me technical suggestions.  Suggestions for capturing correct color–and scale.  And saying this, I realize that  even though what I see here looks pretty accurate to me, what you see may be entirely different.  That makes me cringe, but so be it.  Because, well because at least I have to know that what I’m sending forth, regardless of how it’s interpreted, looks authentic at the get go.

In a way, it’s like that game–a bunch of people sitting around the table–one whispers into their neighbor’s ear–whispers something–and so it goes–person to person until it arrives again at the beginning.  And you know the rest.

The Jawbone of a Beast Meets “The Shopping Place”

Today’s Offering at the Shopping Place

OK. I’ve had a few questions about the bask-owls–and the answer is– Yes, the baskets and bowls I post here are for sale.  To hopefully facilitate things, I’ve added a 3rd page to this site–“Shopping Place.” I’ll put new items there as I can–right now it feels like a very clumsy system…and probably won’t include everything–but I’ll try it out for a while and see how it goes. I’ve spent way too much time setting this up this morning — would much rather be chasing spirals.

But here.  This is what really excites me–scraps of linen, muslin and silk–overdyed in alkanet.

And the jawbone of a beast.  Uncovered yesterday while investigating one of the flower beds at this new house.  Horse?

Indigo Sky and Bask-owls

Probably more dips in the dye vat would have darkened the cloth before I wrapped rope– 2 dips is all it got and the color is pretty pale. Still as I look out at the day–the row of forsythia blooming across the road, in front of someone’s forest–I’m so taken with the sky–an indigo sky feathered over with a dusting of wispy clouds. I love this sky. Love the comfort it suggests. Captured here in cloth. And speaking of bowls–baskets–my conundrum as what to call them is resolved. I’ve decided on this–bask-owls.

Today’s bask-owls:

Lessons in Dy(e)ing

I love saying this —dyeing. Because, well because it lends itself to a wonderful play-on-words. Dyeing. Dying. Love that both are so illustrative of transformation. Both so potentially beautiful. And I also appreciate that with each, intention is required to achieve the results I see in my mind’s eye. Intention and discipline.

I’ve played around this week with dyeing rope bowls. Dyeing rope wrapped in white cotton and also dyeing rope bowls without a fabric cover. Madder, alkanet and indigo are the three dye baths I’ve managed to concoct. I don’t know what to think about the bowls. Not sure it’s a good medium for this experimentation.

Anyway, these are the bowls to date. The purple is alkanet, orange is madder, and indigo is the lighter blue. The navy blue is indigo overdyed with alkanet.

Looking at the last two images, and this one (commercial cloth commercial dye)

reminds me of another aspect of this process I LOVE. Being able to see this initial spiral each and every time a bowl begins. And then following it until the rope runs out. Complete.

To Understand

I didn’t know what to call this post. Simply didn’t know. And in fact, I thought I had a draft somewhere–a post I had started on Friday the 13th, a day after Mercury stopped being in retrograde, or however that is expressed. A draft of observations about that–about Mercury in retrograde. About how really funny it was this time around. How fillings fell out of my teeth–just fell right out. And my new “gifted” Bernette just gave up the ghost. And the error SS light lit up on the dash of my old Subaru, along with the ABS light. Most of the time I ignore dashboard lights but ABS got my attention because I carry precious cargo a few days a week so I called my mechanic friend and he said not to worry. SS stands for speed sensor so naturally the ABS light would come on and he’d take a look but no rush. And then the next day I read that Mercury was out of retrograde and even though it was Friday the 13th I have to admit to a certain sense of relief. And I never found the draft I had started. So here….

The sewing machine. Still waiting to hear what the problem was but I had already realized that it was too finicky for my style of sewing. I need a workhorse that doesn’t care if the bobbin thread is cotton and the needle thread polyester. And I need a machine that doesn’t care if the needle is less than perfectly sharp. Or doesn’t mind if lots of lint builds up before I clean it. It know myself. Maybe I’m a slob, but some details I just don’t attend to as often as reccommened.

It’s hard to fly in the face of the advice from experts and to the person–everyone I spoke to–everyone in the know–advised against a Singer. But I have history with Singers. Just like with Subarus. So I got one anyway–on Ebay–a heavy-duty Singer. And so far-25 baskets later–I’m still loving it. We’ll see.

And the fellow who installed our kitchen, a wood wizard really, built me a nice poplar shelf and a light rack for my little wall space at Woolworth Walk. It’s lit now. Bright. The baskets add something that helps it pop a bit. And they’re really reasonably priced, I think–ranging from $10 to $15 with a few a bit higher.

So baskets are still multiplying here: these, from the new machine–and they’re better really. Broad bottoms. More versatile.

But I’m only good on the machine for a few days and then I have to unplug. Step away. Slow it all down–so this–a hybrid– free-motion with hand stitching on black walnut/tin can cloth:

and this–the sampler of dye scraps–unified now with kantha. I worked it in sections. Nine sections. Then for some reason wondered how many stitches would eventually be here. ~400 per section. Nine sections. The 3600 stitch sampler.

Finally I labelled this post to understand. Because of a eureka moment. I got it this morning. The derivation of the word understand. One word comprised of two. Under Stand. But thinking it would be more empathic to say standunder— Stand Under. To stand under some thing or some one–to support– and from that perspective of being underneath, to know. It makes more sense to me. That compassion can emerge from standing under another. Experiencing their truth.