It's Arrived and It's Lovely

Linen scarf from Hank and Spool.
Yesterday, the final day of my birthday month, I received this gorgeous gift from Christine Mauersberger. You can read the back story and see her beautiful photographs of the scarf and creative things she's done with it at her blog.

I love the ombre dye photo and  want to try it myself, but I love the scarf just the way it is also ... a beautiful, calm color and so soft. I think I may just have to buy at least one more at Christine's online shop, Hook and Spool. Meanwhile, I'll thank my lucky stars that I won this beautiful piece of linen.

Bonus: it came from someone whose work I have admired for a long time ... visit her website and you'll see why.

Beginning


The pieces in the top photo all want to be together and so do the pieces in the bottom photo. Whether these are two separate projects or all part of one, I'm not yet sure. It's too soon to know how it will end, but it's definitely started and so I will pursue it - whatever "it" is - to its perfect conclusion.

It feels so good to be excited about doing something. I've been fretting for quite some time about when-oh-when will I ever get back into the studio and start making things again. Luckily, I stumbled upon  THIS  and it was exactly what I needed to remind about what is the most important part of the creative process.  

Hint: You have to show up.

The thread, by the way, is some vintage tan crochet thread which I dipped into the indigo vat when I took an online class offered by Glennis Dolce (Shibori Girl).  If you are not familiar with her work (and even if you are) do yourself a favor and go exploring because she makes some really drop dead gorgeous stuff and it is always a treat to spend time browsing her latest creations.


As I ponder what I will make with these elements (and this may only make sense to you if you are old enough to carry West Side Story in your memory), this is what keeps going through my mind:

Could it be? Yes, it could.
Something's coming, something good,
If I can wait!
Something's coming, I don't know what it is,
But it is
Gonna be great!

What I Like :: Boro


I am totally in love with boro, a Japanese cloth patched together from pieces of rags and tatters.  These patched textiles were made and used by the people living in the far north of the country, an isolated area with a harsh climate and much poverty until the early twentieth century when economic conditions slowly began to improve. Due to their isolation, cloth was hard to come by and therefore not a scrap was ever wasted. The boro (literally, rags), used for clothing, blankets and so forth, was a humble textile - valued for its ability to protect from the bitter cold and treasured for its long life and many layers of personal history literally stitched into its very being. But it was also emblematic of their poverty and once it was no longer necessary to patch together one's clothing and blankets, the boro might well have disappeared from history if not for the efforts of Chuzaburo Tanaka. Tanaka was that rare person who fully appreciated the beauty inherent in the boro. He saw the patched and heavily stitched articles of daily life for what they are: exquisite examples of folk art in the form of cultural textile treasures. Starting in the mid-1960s, he literally walked the countryside, primarily in the far northern Aomori Prefecture, amassing an extensive collection of boro at a time when nobody else was the least bit interested in the raggedy, patched cloth. 
I would love to own a small piece of boro and maybe one day I will. In lieu of owning a piece of the cloth, I am quite happy for now to take pleasure in the collections and publications of others. A wonderful book on the subject is Boro: Rags and Tatters From the Far North of Japan, an out-of-print paperback book which is lavishly illustrated with photographs from Mr. Tanaka's collection.  Nearly all of what I know about boro is contained in this lovely book, which is written in both Japanese and English. Thank you for that, Yukiko Koide and Kyoichi Tsuzuki.   


The book consists of 120 pages, almost all of which have exquisite color photographs of breathtaking, beautiful boro. It is impossible to choose "favorites" - they are truly all that special.


How can I express the pleasure I feel in looking at these photos? How to communicate the indebtedness I feel to Mr. Tanaka, for saving these beauties, and to the authors of the book for making it so accessible to the likes of me? I think Mr. Tanaka must feel a deep satisfaction knowing that he has saved such an important body of work, and the authors of the book must have a similar feeling, knowing they documented the essence of Mr. Tanaka's vision, in such a perfectly compelling and memorable way.
 
(Photos above are from Boro: Rags and Tatters From the Far North of Japan, by Yukiko Koide & Kyoichi Tsuzuki.)

Next post (or thereabouts) I will share with you a wonderful new book which discusses boro as well as other Japanese textiles, all from the perspective of mottainai (waste nothing). The book is Mottainai: The Fabric of Life - Lessons in Frugality from Traditional Japan, by Kawasaki Kei (Gallery Kei) and Stephen Szczepanek (Sri Threads). It's just recently landed in my mailbox and I can hardly wait to sit down with it. It is beautiful and wonderfully informative. 

Secret Dreams


Some dreams are hidden, behind a silky bodice.
 
 

 

There is an edge, softened with age.  It's taken to curving in on itself.




Buttoned up.  What would you see, if you loosened those buttons?
 


  
Would you see my dreams?  I think so.
 



 They're right there.  Just look.



This piece is made with repurposed textiles, including a piece from the bodice of a 1940s silky blouse. The portion around the linen central "window" is woven strips of cloth, a technique I fell in love with while participating in Jude Hill's workshop. The  border is made from cloth hand-dyed by Arlee Barr.

This piece of interactive textile art - thank you, Dee Mallon, for giving it that identity - is a diminutive 7.25" wide x 6.5" high.

Added 4/19/2011:
On my Flickr page, Dee Mallon at Cloth Company commented on the new direction taken by this piece. That got me to thinking about which aspect(s) would be perceived as new direction.
  • Stitching on this sort of textile? Well, I did do that ages ago, but then I was distracted by the beauty of the felted wool. And when I say distracted, I mean addicted! But I do enjoy traditional hand sewing and embroidery very much - the action of the needle on thin cloth is so rewarding; with felt it is so much more difficult! 
  • Then there is the cloth weaving. I tried this exact technique with the felted wool about twelve years ago! The process was pleasant enough, but the result was not at all satisfying to me and I quickly dropped it. This, again with the "normal" textiles, is so much more wonderful. And learning from Jude, being encouraged to experiment with this and that technique, has made it extremely interesting to me. I hope to do more cloth weaving, for sure.
  • Finally, there is the pale palette. My pieces are usually so drenched in color ..... yet I often swoon when I see a piece that is all misty shades of fog. So, I decided to somewhat force my wild muse to settle down to this paleness, just for a bit. It was tough going --- she really wanted to add red --- and she got her way, didn't she, in the "dream field."
So, what's next? I have a felted wool project which has been bouncing around in my head for several years! I fear the beauty I am imagining will die, if I don't get working on it really soon. This reminds me of a book, Father Flashes, by Tricia Bauer. At one point in the book, the narrator describes her brother, saying he procrastinates "until possibility fades to loss." Is that not a perfect description of the sad truth? I have to thank Tricia; that one elegant phrase has provided a gentle nudge, much needed, to get to making.