5.26.2010
5.24.2010
I am Grasshopper
because I have much to learn. Sometimes a little sloppiness, a.k.a. unevenness, is ok. Like here:
On this piece, the unevenness looks fine. It adds interest and texture to what will be the background of the finished piece.
But other times the sloppy overcomes the texture, outcompetes for attention. As in:
I know I was in a hurry. The paint may have been too thin. I had been using those makeup wedges to apply the paint to the stamp, but I am out of them and used a brush instead. Did that make a difference? Don't know.
I do know that while I like parts of this piece from a distance, up close it has real issues. There are parts I'll be able to use, but it will only be useful if I learn something from it and don't repeat whatever mistakes I made here.
Sometimes the problem is just poor decision making:
Way too much pink. I might be able to save this piece by overstamping. Not sure it's worth the bother, but who knows down the line.
The lesson here? You don't jump from knowing nothing about a process to being an expert without some pit stops along the way. Sometimes I get lucky and can use the 'mistakes', make them look intentional. Sometimes they get put in the drawer of missed opportunities, waiting for a future salvation.
On this piece, the unevenness looks fine. It adds interest and texture to what will be the background of the finished piece.
But other times the sloppy overcomes the texture, outcompetes for attention. As in:
I know I was in a hurry. The paint may have been too thin. I had been using those makeup wedges to apply the paint to the stamp, but I am out of them and used a brush instead. Did that make a difference? Don't know.
I do know that while I like parts of this piece from a distance, up close it has real issues. There are parts I'll be able to use, but it will only be useful if I learn something from it and don't repeat whatever mistakes I made here.
Sometimes the problem is just poor decision making:
Way too much pink. I might be able to save this piece by overstamping. Not sure it's worth the bother, but who knows down the line.
The lesson here? You don't jump from knowing nothing about a process to being an expert without some pit stops along the way. Sometimes I get lucky and can use the 'mistakes', make them look intentional. Sometimes they get put in the drawer of missed opportunities, waiting for a future salvation.
5.19.2010
5.17.2010
thread
I don't buy a lot of fabric these days--at least commercially printed fabric. I start with white or black fabric, and go from there. So while I maintain a stash of commercial fabrics acquired before I really got into dyeing and painting--just in case someday I need them--I wouldn't spend a lot of time in fabric or quilt stores. Except, they sell thread.
I could dye thread, but so far it seems like too much trouble. Not when there are threads I can buy that do what I want done. Like this one:
It's one of the blendables by Sulky. I love these threads. They come in two weights, 12w and 30w, and unlike some variegated threads, the color changes are gradual and seem to be uneven--you don't end up with stripes. I use them for thread painting and for building satin stitched edges.
But I was having trouble finding them locally, so I went to a store I knew of in Evansville, IN (where I was anyway), SewTech. They sell thread. A lot of thread. And I knew they had the Blendables because that is where I bought this spool, which was nearly empty.
They had other temptations, too. Also by Sulky are these black and nearly black 12w threads--which I want to use for thread painting like this and this by Terry Grant.
I'm really looking forward to trying the nearly black one--I had a treasured dark brown/black thread by Mettler that disappeared from the market that I hope this replaces.
Then there was the stuff on sale:
Note that these are mostly in the same color palette I've been using lately...
Of course the new additions mean that I need more storage as my little drawers are stuffed to the gills:
The moral to all this? Thread has become one of the staple ingredients in my art. I can't--well won't--make or dye it myself, so I need to have it in stock when the muse hits. That's my story, I'm sticking with it.
I could dye thread, but so far it seems like too much trouble. Not when there are threads I can buy that do what I want done. Like this one:
It's one of the blendables by Sulky. I love these threads. They come in two weights, 12w and 30w, and unlike some variegated threads, the color changes are gradual and seem to be uneven--you don't end up with stripes. I use them for thread painting and for building satin stitched edges.
But I was having trouble finding them locally, so I went to a store I knew of in Evansville, IN (where I was anyway), SewTech. They sell thread. A lot of thread. And I knew they had the Blendables because that is where I bought this spool, which was nearly empty.
They had other temptations, too. Also by Sulky are these black and nearly black 12w threads--which I want to use for thread painting like this and this by Terry Grant.
I'm really looking forward to trying the nearly black one--I had a treasured dark brown/black thread by Mettler that disappeared from the market that I hope this replaces.
Then there was the stuff on sale:
Note that these are mostly in the same color palette I've been using lately...
Of course the new additions mean that I need more storage as my little drawers are stuffed to the gills:
The moral to all this? Thread has become one of the staple ingredients in my art. I can't--well won't--make or dye it myself, so I need to have it in stock when the muse hits. That's my story, I'm sticking with it.
5.14.2010
limiting the palette
For a variety of reasons, some known, some unknown, I've been working with limited colors lately--the main ones being an acidy spring green, an earthy brown, and a purpley magenta. I do know this is inspired by my seasonal magnetic attraction to the sight of blooming redbuds (Cercis canadensis) on brown hillsides where new leaves are just appearing in the tree tops.
So when I started playing with silk screens and such, I limited my palette to these colors. And it turned out to be a good thing.
The first reason is fairly obvious--all the pieces I'm making go together.
But the best reason is that having one decision controlled--color--I seem to be more free to experiment with other things. I know the color is going to work, so I concentrate on getting the composition right.
But then, of course, value comes into the picture--although the acid green I'm using is light, and the browns are darker, so this isn't a big problem.
These colors, near opposites, work together well--to my eye at least--when there's a lot of green and brown and very little magenta. This may well be because of the inspiration from which I'm drawing these pieces, where the flowers are vastly outnumbered by the other elements of the landscapes, but still manage to dominate. The few pieces I've started where the magenta covers most of the space just look too pink to me--maybe a prejudice against pink? Not sure.
I've managed to find a quick way to make 'silk paper' my own way--just laid the silk roving on fusible webbing, ironed it, then cut it to shape.
And this work is producing some interesting pieces--so far all small. I realize this picture is rather keystoned and dark, but I think it has a lot of promise. I'm even thinking of opening back up my Etsy shop to sell these small pieces...
So far I'm not tired of the palette--maybe because I'm simultaneously working on a large, summer colored piece--but maybe because summer is slow to come in Illinois this year. I think I'll continue on this path for a while.
So when I started playing with silk screens and such, I limited my palette to these colors. And it turned out to be a good thing.
The first reason is fairly obvious--all the pieces I'm making go together.
But the best reason is that having one decision controlled--color--I seem to be more free to experiment with other things. I know the color is going to work, so I concentrate on getting the composition right.
But then, of course, value comes into the picture--although the acid green I'm using is light, and the browns are darker, so this isn't a big problem.
These colors, near opposites, work together well--to my eye at least--when there's a lot of green and brown and very little magenta. This may well be because of the inspiration from which I'm drawing these pieces, where the flowers are vastly outnumbered by the other elements of the landscapes, but still manage to dominate. The few pieces I've started where the magenta covers most of the space just look too pink to me--maybe a prejudice against pink? Not sure.
I've managed to find a quick way to make 'silk paper' my own way--just laid the silk roving on fusible webbing, ironed it, then cut it to shape.
And this work is producing some interesting pieces--so far all small. I realize this picture is rather keystoned and dark, but I think it has a lot of promise. I'm even thinking of opening back up my Etsy shop to sell these small pieces...
So far I'm not tired of the palette--maybe because I'm simultaneously working on a large, summer colored piece--but maybe because summer is slow to come in Illinois this year. I think I'll continue on this path for a while.
5.12.2010
5.10.2010
more deconstructing
The playing with/experimenting with/learning deconstructed screen printing continues. To keep things simpler, I'm using just one color of Procion Mx dyes--khaki. That started, I admit, because it was out. But I like it and the way it breaks down.
There were some lousy attempts when I explored what would happen if you just painted the thickened dye on the the back of the screen--rather than screening it through--and letting it dry. The answer? Not good things, in that there was too much goop there and it came off in globs and there was little patterning.
Another thing I have learned is that it is hard to judge what they really look like when you first print pieces--the thickened soda ash can throw you off as to how much dye and texture is there. So you have to wait until they are batched and washed out.
And burlap makes a nice texture to screen into--basically a grid, but an uneven grid, an organic grid. Let's go to the pictures (these are representative of successive pulls on similar screens--IOW, I did two screens the same, hard to tell which print came from which screen):
Pretty cool, huh? I see a lot of potential in these pieces.
These just had scrim scrunched up on the screen:
I'm not sure where all of this leading, but even in the experimental stage I'm getting usable fabric. It's messy, requires some time, but the results are worth it.
There were some lousy attempts when I explored what would happen if you just painted the thickened dye on the the back of the screen--rather than screening it through--and letting it dry. The answer? Not good things, in that there was too much goop there and it came off in globs and there was little patterning.
Another thing I have learned is that it is hard to judge what they really look like when you first print pieces--the thickened soda ash can throw you off as to how much dye and texture is there. So you have to wait until they are batched and washed out.
And burlap makes a nice texture to screen into--basically a grid, but an uneven grid, an organic grid. Let's go to the pictures (these are representative of successive pulls on similar screens--IOW, I did two screens the same, hard to tell which print came from which screen):
Pretty cool, huh? I see a lot of potential in these pieces.
These just had scrim scrunched up on the screen:
I'm not sure where all of this leading, but even in the experimental stage I'm getting usable fabric. It's messy, requires some time, but the results are worth it.
5.07.2010
Book review for a change
I'm a sucker, I admit, for Amazon's free shipping. The only problem is you have to spend $25 to get it, and sometimes what I need to order isn't that much. So I keep a list of interesting things and when I need to, I order one of them.
Connecting Art to Stitch by Sandra Meech was one such book. I don't remember adding it to my list, but when I needed something, I picked it. And I'm glad I did.
The book contains a lot of kind of standard art exercises--composition, use of line, color--with plenty of examples and suggestions to try. These exercises are useful for a lot of aspiring fiber artists--in my humble opinion, a subject not studied enough.
But this book differs in that a lot of the examples and ideas are geared towards the fiber artist, using the stitch as line. Texture making, emphasizing, filling space, lots of uses for the stitch.
It celebrates the stitch, and proves that fiber art is art, just art with a needle rather than a brush.
Connecting Art to Stitch by Sandra Meech was one such book. I don't remember adding it to my list, but when I needed something, I picked it. And I'm glad I did.
The book contains a lot of kind of standard art exercises--composition, use of line, color--with plenty of examples and suggestions to try. These exercises are useful for a lot of aspiring fiber artists--in my humble opinion, a subject not studied enough.
But this book differs in that a lot of the examples and ideas are geared towards the fiber artist, using the stitch as line. Texture making, emphasizing, filling space, lots of uses for the stitch.
It celebrates the stitch, and proves that fiber art is art, just art with a needle rather than a brush.
5.05.2010
5.03.2010
you just never know...
I surprise myself sometimes.
Months ago I carved a stamp:
I think it was inspired by some sketches I made of palm tree bark (or maybe it was insect tracks in the palm tree trunk). Anyway, I remember not being very impressed with the stamp.
But then the other day I picked it up to modify one of the silk screen prints I had made. And I liked the results:
I like it a lot. I think it's organic and yet interesting, varied enough that the repeats aren't obvious. The piece of fabric I stamped was kind of small, so I'm making a box out of it:
Nor sure why I'm into making boxes these days...but I am. In between paperwork and gardening and cleaning, I'm feeding the muse playing with little boxes.
Months ago I carved a stamp:
I think it was inspired by some sketches I made of palm tree bark (or maybe it was insect tracks in the palm tree trunk). Anyway, I remember not being very impressed with the stamp.
But then the other day I picked it up to modify one of the silk screen prints I had made. And I liked the results:
I like it a lot. I think it's organic and yet interesting, varied enough that the repeats aren't obvious. The piece of fabric I stamped was kind of small, so I'm making a box out of it:
Nor sure why I'm into making boxes these days...but I am. In between paperwork and gardening and cleaning, I'm feeding the muse playing with little boxes.
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