I was so incredibly pleasantly surprised to see in my email a notice that my little blog here had been nominated by another wonderful blogger, Mrs Craft of Craft and Other Crazy Plansfor the Creative Blogger Award! You know, it’s really quite a lovely feeling to learn that someone reads my words, looks at my pictures and thinks that they’re cool! It’s also wonderful to have the chance to share the blogs that I love to read and look at for inspiration, information and simply because they are fabulous! So, I’ll get to that below!
This is especially tender for me because I am actively working on a “healing” piece. With heartbreaking world events, a busy life, transitioning to summer break with my children, and experiencing a bit of grief of the personal and existential sort, I needed to begin a piece I’ve been thinking about for a while. I’m using my large Majacraft Circular Loom and making a sitting rug. It will be textured and smooth, soft and hard, mostly in a beige/off-white/cream color palette. Peaceful. Natural. Cloud-like. Quiet. I want something to call my own, my little space that invites touch and that reflects the complicated aspects of life, but in dulled down color. I need that space and am making it for myself.
Part of being nominated for this sweet award includes the act of sharing five things about myself, so here it goes:
I am absolutely fascinated by ancestral history, and believe that as I age, I will spend more and more time pursuing information about all of the people who came before me in my family. I wonder about them. I thank them for surviving, because without them, I wouldn’t be here.
If I could go back in time, I would not quit creative writing in college. I would pursue that interest with more devotion and more discipline. That regret is fueling my urge to write, and my discipline now.
I hope to join the Peace Corps one day, even if I can’t until I’m an “old” woman. This woman inspired me not to let my mind succumb to antiquated and stereotyped images of aging.
I love to run, workout and be strong, and have found this love later in my life.
I used to live in Florida and I really, really love and miss the Gulf of Mexico. I also love the Atlantic and spent a lot of time at the Jersey Shore when I lived in NJ as a youngin’. There is something magically wonderful about salt water and all of the life it supports, and I hope to get to hang out by the sea a lot more in the coming years.
The above blogs are ones I love to follow and check in on. They all have inspired me, not just in the crafting way, but in the living life artistically kind of way. I hope you check them out.
Here are the rules for the bloggers I’ve nominated. I hope you all enjoy participating in whatever capacity you choose.
Nominate 15-20 bloggers and add their links.
Thank the person who nominated you and include a link to their blog.
Share five facts about yourself.
Notify the bloggers you included.
Keep the rules in your post.
Thank you again, Karen (Mrs. Craft) for nominating me. This was really fun!
Last weekend, I was able to be a part of a wonderful Open Studio day at Shelburne Pond Studios. I don’t have my own place there, but as part of their weekend, they invited local artists to show their wares. It was a good chance for me to finish up projects that had been drifting about, waiting for some attention amidst all of the things that can make a life so full. I was delighted to see how much I actually did make over the winter months. More than I realized! I think my obsession with circular weaving helped. It never felt like work, to pick up a little loom and let my gut tell me what color needed to come next, what texture, what material…
Below are some pictures of some things I had on hand.
Skeins of yummy handspun yarn, all from locally sourced wool.
Loads and loads of batts ready for spinning or felting!
This little circular weaving piece was made using a loom from this Etsy shop. I love the sizes of looms this shop owner offers. They are affordable and very, very fun.
Circular weave wall hanging.
A little tiny nest with a little tiny egg on a little tiny piece of wood from our big beautiful lake.
The wall hanging below was made in part with a Majacraft Circular Loom. I got mine here.
Another Wall Hanging.
This “doll” sort of appeared. I love her but she also gives me the willies.
Wild hanging basket.
Woven piece highlighting a lovely bit of driftwood that looks to me like a lady dancing.
Hello from me.
Mittens letting me know that for that moment, the fabric scrap basket was indeed HERS!
It’s been a while since I’ve written. The thing that’s hard about a blog is, it’s not a diary (at least not for me), it’s not for writing about everything because really, I must honor the privacy of loved ones, and in this case, it’s somewhat specific in terms of topic. Let me just say this: if you like this blog and noticed I’ve not been keeping up, I’m sorry and it’s been a regrettable reality of my life these days. Things got a little heavy, a little stressful, a little complicated and a lot lifey, and I need to work on still writing through those times.
A recent event has reignited my fuel center, and reminded me of what the heck I’m trying to convey through this blog. I had the opportunity to bring a weaving project to my son’s second grade class, and wow, was it amazing. Let me just jump in and explain.
First know this: I am not an expert weaver. I took one weaving class years ago where I learned how to use a big loom, and by learn, I mean was guided every step of the way, multiple times. The apparatus that is attached to a wall that you wind yarn around to get it prepared to warp the loom (I think), almost made me lose my mind. All of it. In a burning inferno of frustration. No matter what I did, I could not keep my yarn from tangling and turning into a wild Medusa hair-like mess. Omg. I shudder to remember it. I did make this though, and I’ll always be proud of it.
I know I’ll take another class on using a big loom now that I’m more mature and have practiced a bit of mindfulness.
Anyway, I love hand weaving on simple looms, circular looms or looms made out of random things like wire, branches, busted out doors. I love how intuitive it can be, how much freedom there is to throw any such thing into a piece because it feels good, and you don’t have to worry too much about a complicated machine. I love how accessible it is, and how it’s possible to make a downright beautiful piece of art simply by understanding some basic concepts, and appreciating how different materials respond to the process of moving around warp thread. I wanted to share this with children because again, it is accessible art, and going into summer, I wanted to encourage them to use their found treasures in art projects and just experiment. I also find this medium to be extremely satisfying, grounding and soothing. I often find when I’m talking to people about it, I place my hand on my stomach when describing how it makes me feel… it’s like it makes me feel comfortable in a part of my body that holds a lot of tension, and I think sometimes a lot of grief.
Here is a little picture montage of my process:
I used this book by Sarah Swett (check out her blog/website. you won’t be sorry) to gather some ideas. The loom I made was a bit different, but based on one described here. It’s a wonderful book and one I will refer to often in future projects with kids. And, my husband made me a standing loom from this book that I hope to write about soon!
Figuring out the appropriate loom size and number of warp threads took some doing.
I went with the 4×6 cardboard size, but chose to use only seven warp threads. I found that the loom stayed stronger and more in tact with less threads, which I was interested in because my plan for the kids was to have all sorts of materials available to them to weave with. They also were going to only be using their fingers to weave, not needles, so I needed the loom to be able to withstand the pulling that would inevitably happen.
I wanted kids to understand that they can weave with all kinds of things.
My weave in progress…
Cardboard looms and another example piece using less wild materials.
Example of a weaving done on the simple cardboard loom.
Not gonna lie: I love my piece.
So, on the day of class, we did a little show and tell bit first. I showed the kids a napkin made from cloth that my mother-in-law’s mother, Else Jacob Eberitsch wove herself. We have a set of these napkins, and a matching table cloth. I am forever blown away by the beauty of them. My son was so proud to show it to his classmates.
I also showed them circular looms of different sorts, as well as one of those rectangular kid’s looms that can be found in most craft stores, reminding them that many might have some of these things kicking around their homes.
And then, when the wiggles got going and after answering some wonderful questions, I unveiled their materials and worked out with their teacher how to go about the rhythm of the acquisition of supplies.
tons of yarn of all different colors, thicknesses, textures… hitting up garage sales and second hand shops is the way to go when gathering supplies for big projects like these.
And guess what happened? The kids were pumped. Truly. All of them, every single one, was into it. It was by far the most fluid and flowy project I’ve done with kids to date. Some got right into the weaving using worsted weight yarn and hit the flow. Others got into using minimal and the most wild materials~ I called theirs delicate porcelain-like pieces. I offered each child a strip of material that they could write a special message on, to be kept private or to show the world to commemorate the approaching end of their school year and some jumped on that. Some got real creative with making space between the individual woven stitches and needed some help understanding the concept behind the strength of the material they were making. Their teacher got into it, too! Her finished piece is gorgeous! Wish I had a picture of it.
Weaving is in us. It’s in our DNA somewhere. It must be. We’ve been doing it for as long as we’ve been covering ourselves, making baskets, mats, shelters (more to come on that topic, too).
If I had to do it over again, (which I will because I was invited back to do another round before school ends!!!), I would:
spend more time highlighting the importance of “beating in” or pushing the new row of woven material down against the previous row
for those whose pieces are very fragile, I would have encouraged them to keep their piece on their loom and decorate their loom to make the whole thing an art piece
I’d leave out the popsicle sticks~ those buggers are slippery
bring more ribbon
write their names on their looms BEFORE they start weaving
I actually can’t wait to go back and do it again. Seeing the children so engaged and so calm in their bodies while they worked kind of blew my mind, and I’ve spent a good deal of time in classrooms. Not to belabor the point, but I think weaving speaks to a part of our souls that is so organic, so without words and so true, that it simply must be something kids can do whenever they want. That’s why I love this. It’s inexpensive, it does not require special training, and anyone can do it. It just requires some stuff, some space, and some freedom to experiment.
Busy beyond breath. Slow beyond words. This juxtaposition has been a hallmark of the last two weeks. Running around, trying to meet all obligations with grace on one side, cancelling everything and only nurturing, tending and resting with my sick little girl on the other. Times like these leave me feeling out of sorts for sure, but I’m happy to say I’ve got myself in a sweet rhythm that includes working with wool and other fibers every day, even if just for five minutes or so.
A heart a day keeps my feet on the ground…
I’ve got this wonderful heart-shaped rock. I love it and it sits on my kitchen sink window sill. Recently, I decided to make a felted heart around it, and once done, fill it with lavender. I loved it, and after a rather bleak news cycle, decided to attempt to make one heart every day. So far, I’ve done it minus a day or two. This has led to me making some little wet-felted bowls/vessels, because I’m already there, right?
Standing at the kitchen sink, felting, thinking, hoping, wondering… it’s helping to get me though these jumbly days. Making things that smell good, feel good, and that I can imagine tucking little notes into, or wishes for people to have on their own jerky, jumpy days, that require so much patience and so much discipline… this has helped and funnily got me back to my drum carder, and to my spinning wheel.
Today, too, I’ve found out about a goddess associated with the spinning wheel who I now must pursue and know more about… Habetrot. She comes from northern England and Lowland Scotland, and I think will have some things to teach me. For a few years, I’ve been wondering about this long buried/hidden passion for fiber art that I’ve thankfully discovered. Where had it been resting in my psyche all of those years prior? I can think of many times in my adult life when having things to do with my hands and mind would have been intensely useful, and I cannot help but lament the years I remained so disconnected from what now feels like an utter and true love. When I think of it, I also can’t help but wonder about my ancestors from England, Ireland, Germany, and maybe Scotland (my grandfather often referred to the Isle of Lewis as being a seat of some ancestry).
Why does it matter?
I suppose because at times in life, it feels utterly true that energies that move us come from our ancestral histories, from journeys started long before that brought us to bear in this life here.
In reading a book about Navajo Weaving, I came across this:
The beginning of the world, I am thinking about it
The beginning of the world, I am talking about it
This is a Navajo ceremonial chant. I love reading about about Navajo myth and the beginning of the world in their story. “According to Navajo myth, the Dine, or the People (which is how Navajos refer to themselves), were led to their home in the Southwest from another world beneath the earth by supernatural spirits called Holy People. Spider Man, one of the Navajo Holy People, taught the Navajos how to make a loom from sunshine, lightning and rain. Spider Woman taught them how to weave.” from: The Navajo Weaving Tradition: 1650 to the Present, by Alice Kaufman and Christopher Selser, p. 4.
Reading this is what led me to that fantastical Google, and that let me to Habetrot. What did we do before Google? I remember, actually. I’d spend hours at the library after school, sometimes allowing myself the luxury of reading whatever I wanted in the corner rather than doing my homework; other times, following one bit of information to another and another still, getting hung up on a weird books about phenomenon like spontaneous combustion, only to get back to the initial investigation on whatever topic. That is what it’s like, researching one’s own ancestral history and its accompanying mythologies. To follow one lead, if you are lucky and patient, can afford you the chance to learn about others along the way. The ultimate in grounding when you are not in a rush.
It’s about time I report on how the last Farm to Frame morning went, in my daughter’s kindergarten class. Recall, this wonderful group of little ones started this project weeks before, learning how to wash wool, dye it, and then card it. They worked hard, and were so busy. With each passing class, students wanted to keep their wool, and were amazed by how it transformed in their own hands.
Finally, the day of the project arrived. I wish I could share pictures of the whole thing in the class, but privacy issues are real and I did not ask for permission to post pictures of other peoples’ children. Included here are picture from a slideshow I made to show to the class to detail what they would be doing that morning.
Each student got their own gallon ziplock bag. In it were a bunch of different colors and textures of wool. They all got colors from the batches that they dyed and carded, plus some extra that I already had on hand. Also, they had a piece of pre-felt, the “paper” for their felted painting.
Next, I showed the kids how they could layer the scene. I chose to make a sea creature scene to go along with their recent unit on sea life.
More examples… my daughter got to demo her skills.
I then explained that I’d be securing their pictures using a needle felting tool. It’s sharp! So I emphasized that I’d be the only one using that tool. I wanted to do this before the wet felting part so that it didn’t come apart in the bag.
Once the picture was completed, students could tell me or their teacher, and we’d help them slide it into their bags. Enter some warm, soapy water, and let the felting begin! I encouraged gentle, open handed pressing at first. Once felting began, they could lift their bags and really press/rub on both sides. I let them know that their picture would look different once it was felted! This was important. What goes into the bag comes out looking quite different and I encouraged them to be artistic experimenters, learning about what wool does during felting, and watching their beautiful colors take different forms. This proved to be an important reminder to some.
Above are the examples of finished products that my daughter and I made at home.
All in all the class went beautifully. What I learned was, children love working with wool. They love doing the work of preparing it and learning about about other people around the world who make things with it. They responded to the idea that people have been using wool for functional things since the Middle Stone Age. Time, of course, does not make sense to them in that way yet, but feeling connected to our ancient history is important, and it resonated.
Children allowed themselves to experiment and to create images, some abstract, and some impressionistic. Some wanted to use every last bit of wool in their bags; some only used a tiny amount and brought the rest home. All, I believe, viewed themselves as artists on that day, and allowed for imperfection and mystery.
If I were to do it again, I would work with smaller groups of not more than five children at a time. With sixteen children in class that day, I did not have the time or ability to make it to each child quickly when they had questions or needed help. For me, it felt rushed and a bit stressful. I think I would work it out with the classroom teacher for me to either work in small groups one after the other, or take a couple of mornings to do it. That way, I could calmly help and respond to questions or worries if they came up.
Other than that, I think it was a great success. I loved being with my daughter and her classmates and learning about teaching, connecting kids to natural and renewable resources in their own community, as well as to their shared history with our ancient ancestors.
Stay tuned as I prepare a new project to bring to my son’s second grade class! This time, it will be a weaving project!
We are in between seasons right now, here in Vermont. When I first moved here from Florida, I heard the term “mud season” and didn’t understand what people were talking about. Living in Burlington at that time, and not venturing much out of the city, I had little occasion to experience Mud Season head on. Now, after almost twenty years here, I get it.
The ground thaws (not too hard this year, after such a mild winter), the red wing blackbirds, robins, cardinals and cedar waxwings make an appearance in our yard. Large flocks of geese sail overhead, their calls to one another feeling like a call to my spirit, encouraging and light and commemorative of a winter gone by. The air smells clean and wet. Sugaring begins. The mud, it adds inches to my height, and a wobble to my walk when I muck around in the yard, this year imagining my cleaned up garden beds, a hoped for herb spiral, and a dyer’s patch. The need to vacuum much more frequently to prevent the brought-in-the-house mud, dirt, pebbles and sludge from making its way to the carpets is a fact. Why is taking one’s boots off in the garage so difficult?!
On a walk the other day down by Lake Champlain, the weather was the epitome of the “in like a lion” description of March. It was windy, rainy, snowy, icy… it was epic, really, and since I was dressed appropriately for such riotous weather, it was absolutely exhilarating. I laughed out loud in reaction to some especially strong bursts of wind, feeling not one ounce of embarrassment because I was alone. Down on the water, I could see Winter releasing her grip from the stoney shore.
I found large pieces of driftwood that I harvested~ a project will happen with them, I am sure. Walking all the way back to my car with these water-logged, slippery gifts, against the wind, at a speedy clip (I was due to volunteer in my son’s class in just a little bit of time) proved to be the workout I needed. Sore and tired, wind-kissed and grateful, I was able to finish a project later that day that had been waiting patiently, in all of its scattered parts, for some attention.
I love working with my Majacraft cirucular weaving loom. I’ve been making completely random things with little bits of all kinds of materials~ sari silk, banana silk threads, handspun, conventional, thick, thin, chunky, wild yarns, twine and wire. I am fully appreciative of the process of beginning a circular weaving project, releasing into the hard job of finding clarity in the first few messy rounds. I can hardly tell the order of warp threads at first. Now I can predict how much time it takes for me to begin to worry that I’ll never get it straight, and then, voila, the foundation is set for my piece and I can relax with the ups and downs of weaving. Then, adding a new element creates its own new chaos, anticipated but surprising, nonetheless. Sometimes it takes another few rounds to straighten things out again, to hit that rhythm where predictability and order are available if desired.
These projects conjure similar feelings of excitement, tension and hope as Spring does, in all of her wild glory. They promise beauty out of chaos, like spring’s pungent dirt promises baby birds, more light, new growth, froggy smells and strong storms. Order from chaos, gifts from turbulence, beauty reborn. Laughing out loud at all this natural noise is such a relief.
I’ve gotten a bit behind in documenting the wonderful work my daughter’s class did in their woolen adventures. A few weeks ago, the “job” for the day was to card their beautiful, dyed wool. I wanted to share a bit about how we did it and how these young five and six-year olds fared.
For the activity that day, I brought in my Fancy Kitty Drum Carder, which I love and adore. I was careful with it, and I had some rules: no touching it without me being right there, don’t crank it as fast as you can, no fingers on the carding cloth, and have fun! I also brought in some mini-hand carders (for this project I actually used small dog brushes (these are not the exact ones I used, but they are similar). I KNOW! CHEESY! But listen, they worked fine for this project, and they were affordable given the quantity I needed.) I brought in my regular sized Ashford Hand Carders as well.
The way we organized the class that day was to show a brief slide show talking about carding and what it actually means. Then, I met with about five children at a time. Around a table, they all had locks to start fluffing out. Once enough fiber was fluffed, I taught them how to load the hand-carders. While three students used the hand carders, one fluffed more wool, and the other started the process of carding on the drum carder. They all rotated through all of the jobs. I provided coloring pages for the kids who were waiting for their turn to card.
I have to say, the drum carder stole the show. Not one of the students was unimpressed with that tool, and all wanted to use it more. I wished I could have given them more time on it! The children were in agreement that adding different colors to the drum carder batt was the way to go, so by the time we got to the very last student, we had a gorgeous tutti-fruity looking batt that I wanted to spin so bad! Oh, the self-control!
Beautiful Batt!
Rolags Galore
I think that the kids really got to appreciate the time, patience and purpose behind carding wool. They all seemed to feel like they had put in a good day’s work, including my daughter, who’s seen this all a bunch. I was so proud of them.
I was out the other day with my kids and another family for a great lunch in an old-timey malt shop. This was on the table right in front of me:
It says: “We cannot live for ourselves alone. Our lives are connected by a thousand invisible threads, and along these sympathetic fibers, our actions run as causes and return to us as results.” ~ Herman Melville
I find myself thinking about this quote a lot right now, turning it around, wondering what Melville had in mind when he wrote it. I’m inspired by it, and I do find that my relationship with fiber is changing as I think about my connections with known and unknown people, how I interact with the world and what I expect from her, and how I long to participate in life. I’m feeling my focus changing and becoming more intentional. I feel like priorities are becoming more clear, although at times they pull in opposite directions, causing a strain for me, and a need for discernment. I’m becoming less upset about the reality that there just is not enough time to do all the things I want to. That is painful. So, the things I let go of… I have to be okay with them going… grieve them a bit… and allow the regained energy to fuel what is right in front of me.
All this from time well-spent at a malt shop, eating my most favorite ice cream flavor ever: peppermint stick.
When I got into crochet and opened my Etsy shop, I was not part of a fiber community. I was inspired, energized and over-the-moon in love with making little funny creatures that made kids smile (and grown-ups). I would look at Etsy and marvel at the creativity and artistry of people all over the world, and often times, barely knew what I was looking at~ I had no idea what needle felting, wet felting or even fulling knitted items were! I was super green.
Until: Susi.
One day, I got an email through Etsy from someone who had an Etsy shop too, called The Felted Gnome Knows. The artist behind this great shop is Susanne Ryan, aka Susi; she introduced herself and I immediately realized that I had already been admiring her work. Her pieces are whimsical, gentle, and inspire creativity. And she lived just a couple of towns away from me! I had no idea what needle felting was at that time, but would see pictures of needle felted creations and ache to understand how they were made. I cannot remember the first time Susi and I met face-to face! Isn’t that funny? In no time at all, though, we became friends. And then we took our first trek up to Mountain Fiber Folk together, which changed my life in so many ways.
I recently sat down with Susi and asked her questions about her art, her craft, her opinions on fiber, her history, and I wanted to share our conversation with you.
The Interview:
HH: I feel like the process of working with wool inherently is soothing and centering. Obviously I’ll want to get to that, but first, can you tell the story of how you came into fiber art?
SR: Several years ago, my husband was transitioning into a new phase of his work life and consequently money was tight. We have a very large family, and that, for some reason, was the year that folks decided that we were going to get a little something for everybody. At that time, I was taking wool sweaters and fulling them down and making them into things. I was knitting and I had gotten a needle felting kit with my daughter at Kaleidoscope Yarn. It was to make little Santas. We made them, and there was something about needle felting where I thought, I could do so much with that.
Interestingly, I wasn’t interested in spinning wool at all. I started with needle felting and then went into wet felting. Initially, I found that there were not a lot of stores in the area that carried felting supplies. The area store that did had classes that were at times I couldn’t go. Also, there are some who are very ready and willing to help people learn things and some who are not, so I ended up learning a lot on my own.
Around that time, I ran into Leslie Lewis (Ewe Who Farm), an old friend from my school days, and we reconnected. Over time, she made a quilt for Maggie and told me about her sheep. So, after seeing that options were limited in terms of local stores helping with my fiber questions, or simply not having the supplies, I contacted Leslie again and asked her if she sold her fiber, and she said “Yes!” I had already been going to farmer’s markets and buying wool from farmers, but getting in touch with Leslie is really what started my seeking out of local farmers to buy fiber from.
When I was at Kaleidoscope yarn, I remember them handing me a brochure for Mountain Fiber Folk, so when I met you I said, you know, I’m going to go up there. I had gotten to the point where I wanted to buy local. I’ve always been interested in and shopped at farmer’s markets, and was involved in getting a farmer’s market in my town. I’ve always felt strongly about that. If you support a local business, they support local and your money goes back into the community.
Going up to Mountain Fiber Folk and seeing what they were doing and how they were doing it was very encouraging in terms of what I wanted to do.
I’m all self taught. I’ve only recently started taking classes this year for things that interest me like the masks and the clothes.
HH: And those classes are very specialized, right? This is a commitment to taking your craft to a whole new level.
SR: Yes, they are advanced classes. It’s interesting to meet all of these women who are so big in the fiber world. I thought Gladys Paulus and Anita Larkin, being in the upper echelons of the felting world, might not be approachable, but they were very down to earth and accessible. This is a passion for them.
HH: Oh yeah, it’s totally a passion! It grabs you and doesn’t let go! It is so inspiring to see what artists do with fiber. It seems infinite, the possibilities.
SR: It’s not going to support you… part of that is that people have no idea how much work goes into making needle felted sculpture, or hats and slippers. They take hours and hours, and sometimes many days. Especially when you take into consideration that often times, I’m getting these fleeces processed by Michael (of Hampton Fiber Mill), or processing them myself. I tend to be a very particular when it comes to skirting and cleaning a fleece, so that takes a lot of time! But you know, it’s frustrating when you pay for roving or batts and you’re picking out veggie matter!
And also, people are really getting a full-on, Vermont-made piece. Needle felting has become popular, so overseas companies are mass producing felted figures and selling them cheaply which makes it difficult for the consumer to understand why local pieces like mine are higher than other felted products.
HH: I was thinking about the social and political aspects of fiber art yesterday when I was dyeing wool with kids at school. There is so much to think about and make choices about when it comes to where we buy our supplies, how we process our fiber, and where we spend our own money. It’s a whole mind-set.
SR: I also think too, in Vermont, we are so focused on the maple producers, and the organic food movement, people forget that there are a lot of sheep and goat people out there that are struggling. They have a wonderful renewable resource that is not being tapped into or marketed appropriately. Not only can we make clothing with it, but it can be used for insulation, you can compost it…. There’s so much you can do with this product. These people are living from hand to mouth, all for the love of their sheep!
HH: What do you think it is about working with fiber that makes people so passionate? Or, what grabbed you about working with wool?
SR: There’s something very earth-bound about it. It’s very grounding. There’s something about wool that’s very… I think it’s the same as gardening… it puts you back in touch with the natural side of the world. You are woking with a natural product that is renewable. It’s warm and it evokes a sense of homeyness and tradition. There’s something magical about it. You know, you can twist it and it becomes yarn! It magically transforms! There’s a whole magic to it… like alchemy.
I also really dig the fiber community. They’re really very down to earth people. Most of them, I have to say, especially those who raise their own animals, are very warm and open and generous about their knowledge.
HH: Isn’t that what was so wonderful about Mountain Fiber Folk? I walked in there that first time knowing nothing about handspun yarn, and walked out completely moved. Next time we went, I left with a drop-spindle that Ruth so generously helped me to figure out.
SR: It sucks you in! If you talk to Michael (Hampton Fiber Mill), he’ll talk about how he learned to knit from his grandmother, and then from there, he learned to spin, and then the next thing you know, he wanted to process fiber!
For me, I can tell you all about breeds and good wools for different projects! For some reason, I can retain this information. Who knew? I make the comparison to my father; he’s really into physics and he starts talking about it and everyone glazes over, but he’s so passionate about it. My sister says I’m like our dad….”you and the sheep, man!” I get so excited about it and want to talk about it, but nobody cares! That’s why it’s so great to get together with other fiber people who get it!
HH: I have to ask this… I know for me, I get around handspun yarn, and I must smell it. I can’t help myself. It’s an automatic thing I do. Do you do that?
SR: No, I don’t smell the wool, but I love to touch it and see the luster and sheen. I want to feel the coarseness of it. I don’t mind the smell of lanolin or raw wool at all. I do have to say, I don’t like skirting at all. There’s a big thing about not using chemicals to get the veggie matter out of fleeces. Well, you don’t have to use chemicals. You just have to be really detail oriented and pick the stuff out! The fiber you and I put out, it’s clean! But you’ve seen the fiber that has a ton of vegetable matter in it!
HH: You have to front load time and effort into preparing the wool. That’s the invisible work. There’s so much dirty work. And you can’t use “chemical free” as an excuse for not being careful with your product.
SR: It was the experience of paying for roving that was filled with veggie matter that really pushed me into preparing my own wool. Now I’m selling kits and supplies and it’s kind of exploded!
HH: What’s your favorite thing to do now? If you’re looking to spend the day however you want, what would you do?
SR: Making a hat. Making whatever kind of hat I want and not worrying about it if it turns out.
HH: What’s your favorite hat you’ve made?
SR: I have two: the felted Gnome Noggin hats, and the Ratagast hats. I love those two. Those are original designs. I make my hats with wool that some would not use for that purpose, but I line them with fleece. You know, I think I’m different than a lot of felters because I think merino is overrated.
HH: What fibers do you like to work with right now?
SR: Border Leicester, Gotland, Romney and Icelandic. With Icelandic- if you take the time to separate out the outer and inner fibers, the under coat is just as soft.
HH: Did you do handwork when you were young?
SR: No. My entire family is like, who knew?! I think what it was is I was never interested in the packaged craft kits available for children when I was young. I was always into the arts, but not in a very public way. I did win a poetry slam when I lived in the Carolinas and I was always around artists and musicians. I did do a lot of theater, too. But it wasn’t until I found felting that I found my medium. I did teach myself how to sew and knit, and I had the ability to put things together, but this really was the first medium where I knew what to do with it without having any prior introduction.
HH: What’s on the horizon for you? Anything you are looking forward to tackling?
SR: I want to fool around with very freeform clothing. I took with Linda Veilleux that was incredible; she’s an amazing artist. I am not as meticulous as she is, and I am learning why it is important to take careful measurements, but I want to play around with shapes and turn them into wearable, freeform clothes. I’m not really interested in making vases. It needs to be wearable or functional. If I’m going to do a sculpture, I’m going to needle felt it. I do like the idea of marrying wet felting and needle felting. Anita Larkin is a wonderful artist~ she stitches pieces together and wet felts them. Those types of ideas are interesting, but I’m also figuring out how to support my habit.
HH: So, you’re done with the holiday fairs…
SR: Yes, but I’ll be at the Stowe Renaissance Fair in the spring. I’m going to make hats for that.
HH: I know where I’ll be seeing you in the spring! I love a good Renaissance Fair and seeing your hats, and you!
Check out Susi’s links to her Etsy shop, her Facebook page, and her website. She keeps them up to date on where she’ll be and what classes she’ll be teaching.
Thank you, Susi, for taking the time to talk with me!
I’ve gotten a bit behind in sharing what I’m working on. My last post was a share of a fellow blogger who was kind enough to detail her Kool-Aid yarn dyeing know-how. Well, I tried it yesterday with clean, uncarded wool. I needed to practice with the stuff before I brought it into my daughter’s kindergarten class to dye wool that they will be using in an art project in a few weeks.
Last week, the children washed raw wool. I wish I could share pictures of it, but you know… privacy and other people’s children is very important to honor! Let me just tell you it was funny, wonderful and I was so proud of all of them. It is true that there was a lot of “ewwwww!!!!” and “gross!” and “it smells like poop!”, but I can assure you that there was no poop in the wool and once they realized it was kind of like petting sheep, they got over it, and all of the kids wanted to put the wool into the warm, soapy water.
I had to do a few rinses of the wool once I got home because there just wasn’t time to get it all done at school.
This week I’ll bring some of that washed wool back to school to have them dye it. I was stumped when I was trying to figure out how to expose them to wool dyeing- I have gotten really into plant dyes and have done some dyeing with synthetic products, but those are stinky, kind of complicated and very time consuming. Somewhere along the way, I came across a mention of Kool-Aid dyeing, but when I first started researching it, I found a lot of links to directions involving heat, stoves and time. That’s why I was so excited to find this link.
I tried it myself yesterday and loved the results. This is what I did:
I separated my wool into weighted amounts: 4 2 oz piles and 1 1 oz pile. I then soaked the wool in warm water for 30 minutes. While the wool was soaking, I got my dyes set up.
I had three half-gallon mason jars and one one-quart mason jar.
In each of the three large mason jars, I put four packets of Kool-Aid, 1/2 cup of white vinegar and filled them about half-way up with warm water. I then stirred the mixture well.
In the one-quart mason jar, I put two packets of Kool-Aid, a 1/4 cup of white vinegar, and half filled it with warm water.
I had an extra glass bowl hanging around and put three packets of raspberry Kool-Aid in that, along with 1/2 cup of white vinegar and some warm water.
Once the 30-minutes of soaking was up, I put the wool in their respective jars and bowl, added warm water until the wool was submerged, covered the jars and bowl and then put them all in a sunny spot for about 4 hours.
When I was happy with the color absorption, I pulled out the wool and rinsed. I was delighted with the results and know this will be wonderful for a classroom experiment/project. The color was not totally spent in the dye bath; I’m not sure if that’s because I used too much Kool-Aid for the fiber that was in the bath, or if I didn’t leave it in long enough.
I am so excited to do this with the kids next week. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Healing Handcrafting 