Well, only out of Blogger. I've been told that it's better to host one's blog on one's own website (mainly by Alyson B. Stanfield). But then Google went and added the 'latest' filter on it's search engine--which if you click it, allows you to look at the latest time your search term has shown up on the web.
This means, in practical terms, that if I keep my blog on blogger, it will show up on the first page or two of results, but my website won't. If, however, I move the blog to the site--and update it just as frequently--the site will show up early in the results.
I don't have a 'follow' button on the new site, but hope to have one soon. It will be changing in appearance over the next few weeks as I learn word press, and tweak it to what I like. I know that some people actually master word press to the point that their whole websites are really WP based...that may take a while in my case.
Anyhow, mosey over to the new BLOG, bookmark it, and look for my fiber notes there.
6.25.2010
6.23.2010
6.21.2010
Learning difficulties...
So I decided to take a couple of classes this summer at Fine Line, both in techniques I thought to use to add texture to my pieces. Lately I've been using a lot of different yarns and threads to stitch with; it seemed that the next logical step was turning those into my own trim pieces.
Let me state that any mistakes or failures to follow are of my own doing; both instructors (Heather Winslow and Michele O'Reilly) did a great and enthusiastic job teaching.
The first class was in card weaving (aka tablet weaving). This ancient method of producing narrow decorative but strong narrow bands involves some dexterity and awareness of things like opening the shed (a weaving term I knew but apparently didn't appreciate enough).
Here's the setup, but not in action. There are 16 cards, four holes each, so four threads each. They are strung following a chart. One end of this mess, I mean setup, is fastened to something solid, like a table leg--something that won't move. The other end is fastened to the weaver's waist. You lean back, turn the cards to open the shed, and throw a shuttle of the weft across. The key words in that sentence were, in my case, 'open the shed.'
If you're trying to discern the decorative pattern in this piece, stop. Towards the end I figured out that my problem was I wasn't being careful enough about the shed--some of the threads that should have been under the weft were above it. With practice, I could get there. I'll probably work on this some more, see what I can do with it.
My shoulders and back were a little sore afterwards; but part of that, I think, is because I was tense from the concentration needed to learn a new skill--proficiency breeds relaxation.
The second class was the next night--no recovery time, but that worked out ok. It was on split ply braiding, a technique developed in India, and brought to artists in the west by Peter Collingwood in the 1990's. It is similar to the way fishermen make nets, but also results in decorative braids.
This one I was better at. I even have a finished piece:
It's an about 6 inches long, twisty doodad. The cords were spun out of hand dyed cotton and tencel fibers by our instructor. They were way cool in themselves.
I caught on to this technique must more quickly. Since the class, I have been exploring other patterns. Michele uses them to trim her art clothes among other things--and the fact that you could dye the cord at the same time you dye the fabric for a piece lends itself well to the work I'm currently doing.
So, am I glad I took the classes. Yes. Will I use the techniques? Probably. The one issue I see with both of them is the cooperation of my body--arthritis in the fingers is impeding on my doing either one for very long at a time. As long as I can remember where I left off (or am able to reconstruct it from staring at the unfinished piece), that is not a deal breaker.
But the main lesson is don't be afraid to try new stuff. I have ideas matriculating in my brain just from seeing the class samples...
Let me state that any mistakes or failures to follow are of my own doing; both instructors (Heather Winslow and Michele O'Reilly) did a great and enthusiastic job teaching.
The first class was in card weaving (aka tablet weaving). This ancient method of producing narrow decorative but strong narrow bands involves some dexterity and awareness of things like opening the shed (a weaving term I knew but apparently didn't appreciate enough).
Here's the setup, but not in action. There are 16 cards, four holes each, so four threads each. They are strung following a chart. One end of this mess, I mean setup, is fastened to something solid, like a table leg--something that won't move. The other end is fastened to the weaver's waist. You lean back, turn the cards to open the shed, and throw a shuttle of the weft across. The key words in that sentence were, in my case, 'open the shed.'
If you're trying to discern the decorative pattern in this piece, stop. Towards the end I figured out that my problem was I wasn't being careful enough about the shed--some of the threads that should have been under the weft were above it. With practice, I could get there. I'll probably work on this some more, see what I can do with it.
My shoulders and back were a little sore afterwards; but part of that, I think, is because I was tense from the concentration needed to learn a new skill--proficiency breeds relaxation.
The second class was the next night--no recovery time, but that worked out ok. It was on split ply braiding, a technique developed in India, and brought to artists in the west by Peter Collingwood in the 1990's. It is similar to the way fishermen make nets, but also results in decorative braids.
This one I was better at. I even have a finished piece:
It's an about 6 inches long, twisty doodad. The cords were spun out of hand dyed cotton and tencel fibers by our instructor. They were way cool in themselves.
I caught on to this technique must more quickly. Since the class, I have been exploring other patterns. Michele uses them to trim her art clothes among other things--and the fact that you could dye the cord at the same time you dye the fabric for a piece lends itself well to the work I'm currently doing.
So, am I glad I took the classes. Yes. Will I use the techniques? Probably. The one issue I see with both of them is the cooperation of my body--arthritis in the fingers is impeding on my doing either one for very long at a time. As long as I can remember where I left off (or am able to reconstruct it from staring at the unfinished piece), that is not a deal breaker.
But the main lesson is don't be afraid to try new stuff. I have ideas matriculating in my brain just from seeing the class samples...
6.16.2010
6.14.2010
stuck in place
I'm stuck. Well, mired down. Mostly over a couple of big pieces I've been working on...
These are parts of the largest piece I've tried to make in a while...it's a piece I have targeted for submission to Quilt National--which is the reason this is all you'll ever see of it (until after I get my rejection that is). I have the vision, just don't know how I want to realize it. I have 3 or 4 ideas in mind, but if one of them really felt like the right one, I'd probably be doing it instead of staring at the pieces on my wall.
And then there's a piece I'm trying to make about the Gulf Oil Spill...it's coming along, and I want it to be political in the sense of depicting the despair I feel about the situation. But. I'm having trouble making the leap between worrying about composition and value and technique to message. Maybe the message isn't resolved enough in my head yet...
So I putter around doing other things. I'm making small pieces to give Etsy another go--mostly 8x10 pieces that will sell for around $100. I had to move a bunch of stuff in my studio to make way for a repairman, then move it back. I weed. I do household chores.
But always, just at the back of my mind, are the nudging prospects for these two pieces--when will I just jump in and finish them however? Maybe the details don't matter as much as I think they do. Maybe this will be the year I get accepted at QN. Maybe.
In the meantime, I need to watch the stink horns grow under my maple tree.
These are parts of the largest piece I've tried to make in a while...it's a piece I have targeted for submission to Quilt National--which is the reason this is all you'll ever see of it (until after I get my rejection that is). I have the vision, just don't know how I want to realize it. I have 3 or 4 ideas in mind, but if one of them really felt like the right one, I'd probably be doing it instead of staring at the pieces on my wall.
And then there's a piece I'm trying to make about the Gulf Oil Spill...it's coming along, and I want it to be political in the sense of depicting the despair I feel about the situation. But. I'm having trouble making the leap between worrying about composition and value and technique to message. Maybe the message isn't resolved enough in my head yet...
So I putter around doing other things. I'm making small pieces to give Etsy another go--mostly 8x10 pieces that will sell for around $100. I had to move a bunch of stuff in my studio to make way for a repairman, then move it back. I weed. I do household chores.
But always, just at the back of my mind, are the nudging prospects for these two pieces--when will I just jump in and finish them however? Maybe the details don't matter as much as I think they do. Maybe this will be the year I get accepted at QN. Maybe.
In the meantime, I need to watch the stink horns grow under my maple tree.
6.11.2010
Random small thoughts
Over the last couple of days, I've accumulated some random things that don't merit whole blog posts in and of themselves, so I've lumped them together, well, randomly.
At the spring, 2009 (!) IQF show in Chicago, I bought this bag of stuff. I've pretty much been looking for it ever since. There's a guy here today installing a gas log setup in our fireplace, and I had to move things so he could get to the places he needs to get to. There it was. Notice that the wool roving in back is the palette I'm using now--it's been on my mind, tickling it, for some time.
This is the book I currently reading, Beatrice and Virgil, by Yann Martel. I loved the Life of Pi, and this is starting out to be just as good. I bring it up because he's essentially talking about the making of art. For instance,
Why would I be so careless as to touch a wet paint surface to a finished piece? I have no answer to that question.
And why do I see the coolest compositions from scraps that have no fusible web on them? No way would I put fusible on all these skinny shapes now...have to figure out another way to do it. Sigh.
So that's my life today. Lots of random things, no time in the studio. But time to catch up on paperwork, which is why I'm writing here instead.
At the spring, 2009 (!) IQF show in Chicago, I bought this bag of stuff. I've pretty much been looking for it ever since. There's a guy here today installing a gas log setup in our fireplace, and I had to move things so he could get to the places he needs to get to. There it was. Notice that the wool roving in back is the palette I'm using now--it's been on my mind, tickling it, for some time.
This is the book I currently reading, Beatrice and Virgil, by Yann Martel. I loved the Life of Pi, and this is starting out to be just as good. I bring it up because he's essentially talking about the making of art. For instance,
"A work of art works because it is true, not because it is real." and
"Those who carry a knife and a pear are never afraid of the dark."
"Those who carry a knife and a pear are never afraid of the dark."
Why would I be so careless as to touch a wet paint surface to a finished piece? I have no answer to that question.
And why do I see the coolest compositions from scraps that have no fusible web on them? No way would I put fusible on all these skinny shapes now...have to figure out another way to do it. Sigh.
So that's my life today. Lots of random things, no time in the studio. But time to catch up on paperwork, which is why I'm writing here instead.
6.09.2010
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