first "proper" weaving done

Se here are the three little mats I've just cut from the loom. They are all slightly different and by no means perfect, but I'm really happy with them. They all have a plain weave background with trees and snow in the "Branoe" or "Overshot" technique. The first, on the right just has a little row of white trees; the middle one uses a thicker, slightly crinkly yarn with a lovely sheen for the trees and snow, while the one on the left uses two strands of the same white that I used in the first one. All three have a dark blue warp; the first one uses a lighter blue for the weft, but the second two mix the lighter blue with the dark warp thread to try and suggest the darker sky. These two also have a border in a different technique using a pickup stick behind the heddle. 

I've learnt all sorts from these; how to carry more than one strand of yarn up the side (very untidily it must be said); that I needed to leave more warp between each mat to have a hope of creating a fringe (or grow mouse fingers); that I should have found out how to calculate the amount of warp you need before starting, rather than guestimating, hence there are only three rather than four; and what fun weaving is.

So now, instead of little fringes on each one I shall do my best to fold the fringe under and back each with some appropriate fabric, fused and then stitched on, which will be fun. Then on to my next learning project; the scarf of many colours. I'm really looking forward to seeing how these blend in the loom and to the more simple process of plain weave, but I may need to buy some more shuttles so that I have enough for each colour I'm using - I used bits of card for the shuttles on this as each used only a small amount of yarn. I'll also make sure to calculate the right amount of warp - which will involve maths; never my strong point!

So thank you to Kelly Casanova for her very fine tutorial, and for a very helpful post on good books to buy on her lovely blog. Did I need any more books in the house? Really? Of course I did, but I only bought two of her recommendations. I should confess, though, to a third book, very necessary as I and the good friend who sold me her loom are visiting London next week; first for this, and then, just for me as I'm staying in London overnight, this. So the catalogue on Ashurbanipal was a must, especially as I'm still musing and stitching on my Studio 11 theme of Mesopotamia. I will post on this when there's something worth seeing - honest! There's more musing than stitching happening at the moment.

"here's one I made earlier" - for Pen

A small needlepoint I made many years ago, designed to fit a little chair which came to me by chance and was restored by my ex, who still has a fine way with wood.

Weaving experiments

One of the things that I was really taken by in Bhutan was watching the weavers crafting their wonderful textiles. Their concentration, dexterity and sheer skill was mesmerising. You'll have seen some examples in my earlier post, and if you've been following for a while you'll have seen my experiments in tapestry weaving (really must post an update on this too!!), but this was weaving on a totally different level. A couple more pictures will give you an idea of the variety of the weaving in the various places we visited. You can find out more about Bhutanese weaving, for which they are rightly famed, here and I've embedded a video below.

On the loom - Bumthang weaving centre

These two are very similar in style, but totally different in their colours. I seem to recall that the one above uses solely plant dyed yarn, which may explain the more subtle colours, though we were assured everywhere we visited that only plant dyes are used.

On the loom, Yathra weaving centre

Horizontal looms - Bumthang weaving centre

tempting weaving wares - outside Kurje Lhakhang,

Thimphu - backstrap weaving at Gagyel Lhundrup weaving centre

Gagyel Lhundrup weaving centre - temptations

Lengths of cloth - Yathra weaving centre

What came across most forcibly when we were there was that all this lovely weaving was being done for a practical purpose. The cloth was being woven to wear and, in the case of the weaving centre in Thimphu, the fabric was of the finest quality, fit quite literally for a King or Queen. When we weave here in the UK, we are doing it for our own pleasure, leisure, artistry, but on the whole the result is more likely to be hung up on the wall, or be a transient item. We don't normally wear what we have woven. In Bhutan the national dress, Kira for women and Gho for men is based around the dimensions that can be produced by hand on a backstrap or horizonal loom, and this was very apparent in the more rural areas we visited.

Bhutanese weaving in action

So, where has all this led me?

Well, one of my good friends in our little tapestry weaving group bought herself a rigid heddle loom early on in our forays into weaving, but recently decided that she wasn't using it and would like the space in her study back, so offered it to me at a very generous price.  I leapt at the chance and have been practicing ever since. No, of course I've not produced anything remotely like the weaving I saw while in Bhutan, but I've been doing my research. I started by learning to warp up the loom using the very helpful videos on the Ashford Looms website and some orange and deep brown yarn, bought centuries ago and never used (it always comes in useful eventually, you know that). Then I just wove. I played about, experimented with alternating colours (more yarn stash busting) to see what patterns emerged; using a knitting needle to hold down some of the warp threads so that the weft went over more than one warp, making raised patterns on the surface; learning what the best way of keeping edges straight is. All tremendous fun and resulting in a four foot length of what vaguely resembles fabric - a sampler in fact to use a stitchy reference. The image below is from part way through my experiments.

Having taken this off the loom I felt it was time to be a bit more adventurous, so again trawled YouTube for instruction. I came across this delightful and very seasonal design by an Australian weaver called Kelly Casanova. So now I'm enjoying myself making little squares of blue with white Christmas trees on them, as per her very fine instructions. This is the second square - I'm hoping I have warped up enough yarn to do four of them, each one slightly different. You can see that my edges are a bit wonky, and I'm still very much a beginner, but at least this does vaguely look like something.

Once these are done, I have yet more yarn (no of course I didn't deliberately buy some) and will begin another larger project just working with several colours in both warp and weft to see where I get.

Watch this space :-)

Patchwork update

I hope you've all had a wonderful festive season.

We usually have quiet Christmases, and I always feel that I have to apologise for that for some reason, but we are really quiet folk and the aren't many of us. Quiet is good, restful, almost contemplative, with tie to appreciate the good things as they happen.

I have been working on our next block, Rose of Sharon (I think), applique finished, wadding and backing pinned, now to quilt which is always fun and usually dangerous to fingertips

The previous block, Rocky Road to Kansas is also in need of a stitch or two, but what better way to spend a chilly dark evening by the fireside

A patchwork education

There are rather a lot of textiley things I could update you on, I've been busy with all sorts; my stitching in Studio 11 time is coming on slowly, as it often does; we had a lovely talk recently at the Embroiderers Guild from Emily Jo Gibbs, which included a brief tutorial at the end to show us the techniques she uses to create her beautiful stitched portraits; I've also been learning to use a small rigid heddle loom, having been inspired by the weaving I saw in Bhutan. I already have a much deeper appreciation of the skill that goes into weaving their beautiful textiles. But today it's patchwork that I'm sharing with you. One of our Guild members is also a very good patchworker, and she offered us a course to teach us the basics. We started in May with an introduction to patchwork and quilting, both the technical aspects and some history. Over the year we are to make nine blocks, each in a different technique, all hand pieced, quilting as we go. These will all come together to make a nine patch quilt.

So, below is my most recent block, Rocky Road to Kansas.

Each of the four arms of the star are pieced using the crazy patchwork technique; delightfully fiddly, each little scrap is stitched down onto a foundation fabric, with lots of puzzling and careful folding and stitching to get the bits to fit together. Crazy patchwork is a way of using up all sorts of scraps, and is often further embellished by decorative surface stitching. I cannot imagine making a whole quilt using this technique, but one block was terrific fun.

The pictures below show the block in context. Naomi's idea was for us to use just three different fabrics to keep things simple, a light, medium and dark, but because I have a bit if a stash already I thought I'd use a series of related fabrics, mostly fat quarters, and try to balance them across the quilt. 

I've enjoyed selecting fabrics that work together, and have been adding in different fabrics to bring variety to the blocks, along with ones I've used previously, so that none of the blocks is out of kilter with the rest. So far it seems to be working. The Rocky Road block hasn't been backed and quilted yet. Once I've done that it will be joined to the top row and then on to the next block, one with needle turned appliqué. I'll update you as I go :-)

A little indigo a little Japan a little Jude

I was deeply moved by the quilts of Shizuko Kuroha at FOQ in Birmingham last weekend. A lovely weekend spent with my daughter meandering up from and back to the South Coast.

This was my second time at the show, and again Christine was there exhibiting; this time with unFOLD, a textile group she belongs to. All the works were themed around Lynn Knight's fascinating book book "The Button Box". Here you can see Christine with her "Just Got To Finish the Mending", in the background and below, mending being metioned in the book as an informal contraceptive of sorts - read the book and you'll find out. Christine's piece, which we have watched develop during our Studio 11 days, is densely stitched over a deconstructed shirt, with the darning stitch so often used to mend, and mend, and mend in those days when we still did that sort of thing. It was marvellous to see it hung in the gallery space along with so many other thought provoking textiles.

If you look closely there's just a hint of a daughter in the background as well!

While there we also really enjoyed Ruth Singer's textile meditations on the lives of women prisoners. Again, such an inspiration to see how textile artists express their thoughts about life and ideas using the medium of cloth and stitch. A thing I aspire to, but haven't quite worked out the how yet!

But back to Kuroha and her beautiful indigo quilts, impeccably pieced and hand quilted, each one a symphony of movement and subtle colour. They really are works of art. She was there in her gallery space, signing books for eager middle aged ladies, amongst whom I include myself (though not in this picture); her smile so sweet as she inscribed the book with my name and her signature. 

I was touched to the core, both by her and her art.

On my return home I had a week off work, but am preparing for two momentous things: first, at the end of the month, after forty years of fulfilling work in my local library service, I am taking early retirement - a big step, but one I am longing for. The ability to just go to bed in the afternoon and sleep for a couple of hours will be transformative! Oh, and get on with my stitching, and weaving, and dyeing, and gardening, and perhaps a little piano playing, and a thousand other things that have been waiting for "when I have time".

Then in September, I am off to Bhutan. How easily that types itself out, what an amazing thing to be doing. One of Colouricious' textile trips, I will be beside myself when it happens. Will try and post a couple of updates while I'm there.

So, Indigo, Japan, Jude? What's the link you are asking yourself?

Well, I need to take a sketchbook to Bhutan, obviously. I loved the simplicity of the indigo quilts, and all sketchbooks should have a cover. Especially one made from a couple of pairs of jeans I haven't worn since my slim early twenties, but have always kept because "I'll do something with these one day".

And Jude? Well this is a sort of Jude house, patched and darned and quietly stitched.

updated yarn

A yarn can be something that you knit or weave or even stitch with, or it can be a tangled tale with twists and turns and little diversions along the way.

The first meaning is obviously what the image below is all about. Yes, a little while ago I treated myself to some lovely Noro yarn, on sale in a very fine wool shop near where I live, which was closing down. Both my loss and my gain. Then a couple of weeks ago I went out with beloved daughter to buy a dress for her for our wedding, and was lured into buying yet more yarn, as one is from time to time. 

I felt it only right that the less recent purchase should be knitted up first, so here is the knitting in progress, along with the pattern.

I have to say, I don't think I'll look anything like as fey and girlish in my version, but (and this is very important to me) the cardigan will be symmetrical across the front, not all skew whiff like the illustration in their pattern book. I have puzzled over this for some time; why oh why are all Noro patterns knitted up all any old how in relation to the (absolutely beautiful) colour changes in the yarns? A brief bit of research online found me this little gem of a phrase from the "blurb" on their website.

"Harmonize natural unevenness, asymmetric pattern and complex color to portray the beauty of the nature. Taking sufficient time to dye and yarn natural flavors and tenderness of materials to preserve their original characters"

Well - apart from the delighfully idiosyncratic translation from the Japanese, I guess the "asymmetric pattern and complex colour" explains the lack of symmetry. But when did you last see an asymmetric butterfly, or flower, or bird's wing pattern, or tabby cat's stripes? 

Nope, just can't be doing with all of that. My cardigan will have, I hope, perfectly matched colour changes across the front and the sleeves, which will give me great satsifaction. Yes that does require hunting through the remaining balls to find the one which starts as near as possible to the end of the previous one, and cutting out the excess but I can use that up in the collar, so no waste there! And what satisfaction when I finally sew it all together and the colour bands flow across my imperfect body in perfect symmetry!!

So, to my second yarn, the tale of the Damn Bloody Mouse - known as DBM hereafter. Yes, there is a link with the following pictures I promise.

We have two lovely cats, Rum and Raisin, who have shared our lives for the past ten or so years. We love them dearly, and feed them far too many biscuits but they are cats, and they do what cats do; catch things. Rum's catches ususally get crunched up on the lawn, though occasionally they are brought in for consumption overnight, with little bits left by the Man's chair in case he's peckish in the morning. Raisin, however, is a bit more squeamish. Once the excitement of the chase and catch is over, he's not quite sure what he should do with this poor wriggling furry thing. So in he comes clattering through the cat flap, a scurry, a yowl or two, and I rush into the kitchen to find a mouse (DBM) cowering under the dresser (where all good mice should hide) and a grumpy fat cat doing his best to get under the dresser. A cat and mouse impasse. I removed the cat, and found things to block up the ends of the dresser so that DBM couldn't escape. However, DBM had escaped already, to hide beneath the bookshelf in the sitting room. Aha, I thought, I can block up the wavy front esdge of the bookshelf with "more things", heavy enough and malleable enough to fit under the wavy bits and leave one small space for DBM to come out. The one small space was, of course, cleverly adapted with a humane mouse trap, baited with rather nice nuts and chocolate biscuits. No problem I thought.

Two days later, having sat each morning listening to little mouse scrabbles, and thinking, "oh, he'll be out soon, tidily captured in the mouse trap" I came down to find that two of the "things" used to block all exits had been wriggeld through and there was no DBM any more. And, to add insult to injury, DBM had been very grateful for the nice feast I'd supplied him, easily accessed by nibbling through the soft corduroy cover that ennables wheat packs to be heated up in microwaves before being applied to sore necks. Perhaps not my best choice for a mouse barrier!

So what does this have to do with the pictures below?

Well, for the next two nights I was awoken several times by little scrabbles and scuttlings in my bedroom. Ye Gods, I thought, DBM has found it's way upstairs and is negotiating the maze of boxes and whotnot under my bed. This is definitely Not Good. The first task, obviously, was to buy more humane mouse traps; the second to move all the boxes out from under the bed, then crawl about, with no thought of dignity, with torch and long poky thing to find the whereabouts of the DBM.

What did I find? A great deal of dust; a pen I'd lost; a single sock; a bookmark; an empy pack of aspirin. I also reacquainted myself with the precious contents of these many and various boxes: old writing cases belonging to Ganna and Mum, stuffed with letters, diaries, account books and the like; a complete handwritten draft of one of Gannas novels, along with the typewritten version that Mum did for her to send to the publishers; a small suitcase with a set of old reel to reel tapes which I know have all of us (me, Mum, Dad, Ganna and Grandad) talking many many years ago in Petersfield when Dad was still alive and playing with his new Grundig tape recorder. And this very fine collection of rug yarns, complete with the canvas (3' x 6') and a handwritten list of the amounts of every yarn there. 

Some were easy - just count the drums and you know how many pieces you've got, but I had a vision of Mum sitting and patiently counting out 929 pieces of green, 482 pale pink, 33 dark blue, 2 khaki ...... as all those below were just small remainders, carefully packed into plastic bags to keep them safe.

They have sat there I'd guess, for the best part of the last 40 odd years, kept for "one day" when she would have time to make the next rug. One day never came - it often doesn't, so here they still are, awaiting a hand and a design to make the best use of them, along with the list of amounts, and calculations of how many pieces would be needed to fill that canvas.

But what of the DBM? Not a sign, not the merest twitch of a whisker, nothing. But still, occasionally, I hear a little scratch and scrabble in the middle of the night. Not in my room, no no, in the walls of my room. I assume the wretched creature has found its way in somehow, and is now searching the fabric of the house for more tasty morsels. All we can hope is that a) it doesn't start trying to eat the wires, b) it finds its way outside somehow, without encountering an enthusaustic feline on its journeys and c) it does so very soon, as I'm rather tired of sleeping with one ear cocked just in case it finds its way onto the bed!!