Take, for instance, Pam Allen’s Falling [...]]]> This year’s Studio Yule seems to be all about tying up loose ends, finishing things off, starting with a clean slate. And while I had hoped for a burst of creative energy and some fresh and interesting projects, I’m trying to be okay with clearing out past projects.

Take, for instance, Pam Allen’s Falling Leaves Bag. I started this bag in January 2009. Now, if this were a complicated project, that wouldn’t be terribly shocking, but it’s a very simple bag, knit flat and felted. I finished the knitting and felting in short order, and the completed thing just sat … and sat … and sat.

Turns out that flat portfolio-style shape just isn’t very functional for me. I finally got tired of tripping over this languishing project and started playing around with the shape, poking in the corners to give it a boxier profile:

Still not convinced, I mattress stitched the gussets and blocked the bag over a box before really committing to the new shape:

I liked it, and made the change permanent by cutting the excess fabric from the inside gusset:

Voila, an actual functional finished bag:

With one item checked off my to-be-dealt-with list, I turned my attention to making a holder for tea bags that I could carry with me. If you are a tea drinker, you already know that most tea options available in the U.S. are absolutely vile, and you probably carry your own supply as I do. A portable container for tea can be elusive, and a plastic ziploc never seemed suitable for the exclusive, expensive French tea that I favor.

(Yes. I am an unbearable tea snob. I admit it.)

I repurposed a hinged metal tin, covering the top with a Victorian print paper, ending up with a something more worthy of my beloved Mariage Freres:

So far, my Studio Yule accomplishments have been sporadic and small. While these projects have been unplanned and somewhat unexpected, they have nevertheless been satisfying, and I’m having a pot of tea to celebrate.

One of the rules [...]]]> I am in the midst of my annual foray into studio immersion, which I call Studio Yule. This is my third version of using this one time of the year, when typically I have no obligations to anyone, to goof off in the studio and make whatever strikes my fancy.

One of the rules of Studio Yule is that I cannot make things for sale. Another rule is that I am strongly encouraged to try new techniques or materials, free of any pressure to produce something useful or even good. Resulting from experimentation, not to mention my very strange sense of humor, I often do get useful ideas or master new techniques that I will use in my business, but that’s not the point. This is my annual personal reminder about why I love what I do.

This Studio Yule has had a slow start, owing largely to the fact that after finals, I still did have immediate obligations that needed to be addressed before I could relax. I had to write an academic conference paper, and in response to an invitation to submit feltmaking class proposals for a conference next year, had to write up some workshop descriptions. Plus, I was accepted as a member to the California Fiber Artists, an organization that produces 3 group shows per year all over California, and was very pleased about that. But it also meant I had to give them a bio and some photos of my work for their website, and that couldn’t happen until there was a lapse in my teaching schedule. The first week of potential Studio Yule-ness got eaten by writing projects.

Food is also a crucial component of Studio Yule, and after a holiday cooking extravaganza, the larder was sufficiently stocked with delectibles, allowing me to turn my attention to the studio.

Oh. Dear.

After the frenzy of producing two gallery shows in 12 months, plus another group show, all on top of my regular production schedule, the studio was an absolute disaster area. I couldn’t see the floor. I couldn’t find anything. I winced every time I looked in there. The Muse threw an operatic fit, screaming,  “How can you expect me to work under these conditions ?!?!” before collapsing in sobs on her fainting couch. This did not bode well.

I’ve spent the past several days tidying and reorganizing. I’ve ordered some new storage, I’ve gotten rid of things that were unnecessary and took up space, and it’s starting to look workable. I still have a few minor adjustments to make, and a few more once the new fabric storage bins arrive. There has been progress, and my new systems will be much more efficient in the coming year. I’m considering that Studio Yule preparation may be an important preamble, thinking about when and how I can work in the sort and purge ritual to the annual festivities.

While I don’t have anything brilliant to show you after a week and a half of official Studio Yule, the celebration always starts with tea tins and I did manage to make those in fairly short order:

Just as with last year’s tins, I decoupaged translucent fabric onto recycled tea tins. There are a couple of bubbles in the fabric this time, which isn’t exactly what I was going for, but I like the textural element and am thinking about how I could include that purposely next time. Since coming up with new ideas is exactly what Studio Yule is all about, maybe I’m off to a good start after all.

Once upon a time, I had a pair of socks that I knit out of handspun. They were lovely socks, but [...]]]> There has been much finishing around here – finishing the grading, finishing the brutal semester-that-was, and attempting to finish up some longstanding projects with hopes of a fresh start in the New Year.

Once upon a time, I had a pair of socks that I knit out of handspun. They were lovely socks, but the yarn was not plied well, being an early attempt at spindle spinning. The socks, alas, wore through within 2 weeks, although they were thoroughly enjoyed for that short time. I couldn’t quite bring myself to throw them away – all that work! Handspun wool! Plus, I liked the colors.

The cuffs were perfectly fine, so I ripped out the feet, vowing to make some gloves instead. And I’ve had those cuffs rattling around the house, turning up at odd moments in unexpected places, taunting me to make something of them. I finally did.

Here are the reworked gloves, posing next to some obliging persimmons, a sign that I am reveling in the Season of Orange Food:

And here is the traditional and obligatory photo of Gloved Hands Holding Something:

This is the Diagonal Rib sock pattern, to which I added a thumb gusset. I made the gloves fingerless, as opposed to the half fingers I’ve been fond of recently, since sometimes you just want to pull on a pair of gloves quickly without the bother of settling fingers.

Now that these are done and restored to useful purpose, my next plan is to resurrect the Scotland sweater (also known as “that f*”&$king sweater”) and actually finish the annoying thing. I have ripped the sleeves,which had featured 4 different gauges, ordered extra yarn, obtained 2 sets of needles in the same size so as not to repeat the 4 gauge travesty, and have solicited very helpful suggestions from my spinning group for finishing the button bands. I have a little bit of gift knitting still to complete before I undertake this laudable goal, but am cautiously optimistic I will have a new sweater to show you sometime soonish!

I have lately come to the unenviable realization that a) I have not [...]]]> I am stealing time away from the grading crunch that is currently consuming my time and attention to post a brief hello. (Okay, truthfully I’m stealing time away from procrastinating about the grading crunch, but that is neither here nor there).

I have lately come to the unenviable realization that a) I have not knit socks for myself in about 5 years; b) although handknit socks fit better and wear longer than commercial socks, they do wear out eventually; c) my sock supply is in a deplorable state; and d) winter rapidly approaches. Eeek.

I am told by friends who know better than I that a sock knitting revolution has taken place in the past 5 years. As I have perused patterns and considered options, I have been stunned by the extraordinary (ridiculous?) lengths to which some knitters have gone to reinvent the humble sock. More than once, I have been forced to exclaim, “My God! It’s just a SOCK! You put in on your FEET and WALK on it!” as I examined the extravaganzas of lace, colorwork, and cables, not to mention the infinitely inventive and sometimes strange permutations in shaping options.

Is it possible, in this day and age, to find a pattern that produces a practical, wearable, nice-looking sock that will not take my entire lifetime to knit? Time is of the essence.

I did, indeed, find several such patterns, some that are pre-revolutionary era designs residing in books already on my shelves, and some that are new.

Simultaneously, and most happily, I also discovered that I can download audiobooks from my local library. Being an unabashed fan of all things iPod, this was a welcome realization. I have long bemoaned my inability to knit and read at the same time, and audiobooks are the obvious solution to the problem.

By forcing myself to ignore my glorious stash of fingering weight yarns and sticking to heavier DK and sport weight patterns, I have been able to produce 4 pairs of socks for myself in very short order. Unfortunately, I suffered a bout of photographic dyslexia and only got decent pictures of one pair, but they are especially nice.

This is a recent pattern called “Kalajoki” by Finnish designer Tiina Seppälä, named after a river that is local to her. It features mirror-image twisted ribs careening charmingly all the way to the toes:

And here is another photo, in which I did a staged shot and got a little carried away by the watery imagery:

I still have more socks to make – and finished socks to photograph. But through this little exercise, I learned that left to my own devices – an iPod, good yarn and acceptable patterns – extraordinary things can still happen. The revolution may have started without me, but I can still make a mean pair of socks.

The repetition of the same troubling comments sent me scurrying to my web support system, aka Wendy Cholbi, to try to find some answers.

Wendy asked me to send her a [...]]]> I’ve gotten some comments lately that led me to believe that some of you have not been seeing the website that I designed.

The repetition of the same troubling comments sent me scurrying to my web support system, aka Wendy Cholbi, to try to find some answers.

Wendy asked me to send her a screenshot of the website as it appeared on my computer, and I complied. As she opened the document and saw the site that, by the way, looks fabulous on my computer, her surprised exclamation of “Oh!” pretty much confirmed that she had been seeing something entirely different.

We set about troubleshooting the problem, visiting all the website-tweaking hotspots – the Land of Resolution, Browser Compatibility World, and Font City. After much discussion and futzing about, I believe we have solved the problem.

Do me a favor and poke around the site a little bit, and if it doesn’t look completely awe-inspiring, well, what did you expect? But if it doesn’t look at least symmetric and/or cohesive, then please leave me a comment.

I feel like I’ve experienced the website equivalent of traipsing out of the ladies’ room with my skirt tucked into my pantyhose.

Sigh.

In the aftermath of the show, I am reflecting on several things.

Thing #1) I displayed most of the dyed pieces by hanging them on the [...]]]> The show has been un-installed, and life is notably quieter. I’ll be participating in a group show in a few weeks, but it’s a much more relaxed process.

In the aftermath of the show, I am reflecting on several things.

Thing #1) I displayed most of the dyed pieces by hanging them on the wall or suspending them from the ceiling, even though I thought of them as tablecloths or table runners – standard linens, in other words. The people who bought them are planning to hang them on the wall. I’m not quite sure what to make of that.

Thing #2) I ordered new business cards from Moo.com, using the studio shots of the hats-to-date. Moo is great, because they will print multiple images on cards. Thus, in each pack of business cards, I can use several different photos. I put the cards out on the table at the entrance to the gallery, and people snapped them up. They were taking numerous cards, as if they were collectors items.

I have no idea what they were planning to do with them. I’m imagining folks getting home and looking at their pocket or bag full of my business cards, coming to their senses, and tossing them in the bin. But you never know. I stopped putting my business cards out because they kept disappearing and I nearly ran out. I truly can’t imagine what anyone would want with a dozen of my cards. Yet now I’m planning to have greeting cards printed with those images just to see if people would actually pay for them.

Thing #3) I’ve had a guest book at each of my shows for visitors to sign, and I did it because everyone else does. I never really thought about what it meant. I have been so gratified by reading the lovely comments, and seeing all the people (some of whom I haven’t seen in years) who stopped by to have a look. I sincerely appreciated everyone who took the time to stop by and leave a comment, and I will save the book for those Moments of Doubt that crop up in every creative life. The guest book, which started as a cursory gesture, is a real treasure. I am surprised.

Thing #4) I have been terribly remiss in telling you all about MY jar in Kirsty Hall’s 365 Jars project. I sponsored a jar for my birthday at the beginning of September, and Kirsty delivered a stunner. Have a look at my jar. Beautiful, yes? Kirsty promptly reported that Theo’s mum found the jar. If you have been following the project, then you know that the Theo clan are dedicated jar hunters and finders. I am so happy that my jar went to a good home that appreciates its specialness.

Thing #5) The group show is giving me a chance to take some of the things I learned in producing pieces for Artifacts and move forward with them. What will I do next? That’s a puzzle.

Gold Rush:

Industrial Revolution I:

Industrial Revolution II:

Jazz [...]]]> I gutted my own gallery show this weekend so I could take better photos of some of the hats. Since a couple of them have sold, I needed to make the time while I still had access to them. Without further ado, here they are:

Gold Rush:

Industrial Revolution I:

Industrial Revolution II:

Jazz Age I:

Jazz Age II:

And now that the past has been fully documented, let’s move on. I had the unenviable task of producing the postcard for the Comfort and Joy group fiber arts show coming up in early November. I wanted to avoid the boring grid that is standard issue for group show postcards, and instead took an image that incorporated the work of several artists into a readable vignette. Here’s the result:

The title of the show will go in the black space to the left, and the many, many artist’s names and show information will go on the back. I have a couple of pieces in process for this show, but still have some work to do. It will be nice to look forward to a little Comfort and Joy!

I still don’t think I got the balance quite right – the dyed fabric puts [...]]]> Today I’ll take you around the rest of the gallery. It was a huge space to fill, and since the hats are relatively small pieces, I focused much more on the dyed pieces than I have in the past.

I still don’t think I got the balance quite right – the dyed fabric puts a lot of color on the walls, and the hats were mostly neutrals, so I felt that in the final installation, the hats kind of got lost. Switching out the lighting to spotlight the hats helped, and treating the dyed pieces as true backdrops and putting contrasting hats in front will help more in the future. Live and learn.

There was an unintentional omission in the last post – I forgot two hats! I did two nuno felted hats for the Industrial Revolution. I had some interesting silk that was primarily grey on one side, and primarily taupe on the other. So I did a grey hat with the grey side of the fabric showing, and taupe hat with the taupe side out:

The back wall of the gallery deserved something really eye-catching, so I dyed 10 runners in varying shades from light to dark. There are reds and oranges to the left, and purple/reds to the right. This piece is called “Mixed Blood,” and the idea was that colors represented different bloodlines. There are multiple layers on each piece. It’s a nod to the mixed race heritage that most of us share, since no one is 100% anything, no matter how much they might protest. These pieces were suspended from the ceiling to give them some movement:

And finally, we move to the last wall in the gallery, which thankfully was shorter than the first, being situated between two doorways. I did some knit felt slippers using my own pattern, and have been getting interesting reactions from them. They seem to have a nostalgic quality, and more than one person has told me that they remind them of childhood. In any event, for me they represented the Civil Rights era, with each pair depicting the struggles of a particular group. The piece as a whole is called “Take a Stand: Civil Rights,” and the grey represents Black Power, the burgundy Red Power (native Americans), the chocolate Brown Power (Mexican Americans), the purple Women’s rights, and the rainbow multicolor Gay Rights:

On this wall, I did a series of three dyed pieces that used a rather odd combination of low water immersion and shibori dye techniques. I was playing around with osmosis. I covered and tied off the center portion and the outer edge, and dyed just the middle portion. I dyed the fabric dry, which encouraged the dye to migrate out toward the center and the outer edge, resulting in a perfect circle. To be perfectly honest, these pieces were last minute substitutions for other pieces that didn’t work out so well, but the repeating circles gave a nice graphic element to that wall (and there does seem to be a repeating circular motif throughout the show).

The one behind the Civil Rights slippers is purple with a red overdye (I don’t have a good photo of it probably because I’m not extremely fond of that particular one), and  the next has an orange circle with a gold overdye:

The orange/yellow one represents the turbulent 1960′s, and backdrops a hat that kind of cracks me up. I like to take disparate ideas and combine them in some pieces, and for this one, I wanted to do a hat based on Jackie O’s pillbox, but combined with the drug culture of the 60′s. Now, you can’t really find two concepts that are more opposite, but that was the appeal for me. How did these two things exist in the same time period? Inexplicable!

I had a very good time making an exploded pillbox out of shocking pink and orange wool, and handspun some variegated yellow to green yarn to needlefelt into a spiral on both the inside and outside of the hat. I then cut the brim into a spiral and looped it around the outside, finishing the hat with white pill-like buttons that gradate in size diagonally on one side. This is “Jackie O Meets Dr. Feelgood,”:

You’ve seen the final vignette in the show – the blue circle cloth that represents the future along with the white hat that represents the same. The hat is a square beret with a twist. I slashed each corner of the square, stitched them up, and then twisted and attached each “finger” with glass beads. This was a new construction for me, and I’m looking forward to taking it further by using different colors on the top and bottom of the beret. But that’s for the next show, and it seems appropriate that the final hat is a technique I’ll be taking into the future:

The show remains up until October 4, and I hope some of you will have a chance to see it. As for me, it’s now history and I’m on to the next thing!