The time has come to release my first weave from my little bluebird.
Providing me with a hall-length of yardage.
Replete with woollen slubs,
velvet tags,
varied stripes appearing from my hand-spun yarn,
also have varied textures and weights within the weaving.
The surface is pretty delicious close up.
Since these pictures, I've fulled the length. I wanted it to be really hard wearing as it's being turned into the new covers for my kitchen stools.
It's taken a year to create all the elements of this monstorous piece;
delicate little screen-printed footprints on stones that change in the rain,
individually printed and sewn monkey embryos,
bleached animal bones meticulously wrapped in fine embroidery cottons and stacked into a nest,
plants from my garden pounded to a pulp through muslin and made into paper sculptures,
fabrics and hides surface printed with lino cuts and crocheted forms,
paper and silk mushrooms crafted and decorated,
mounds and mounds of grass sewn by hand,
organisms imagined, dyed, spun, woven, crocheted and wired,
all brought together into one great knoll.
It is akin to a consumption that has held me in its grip. And finally let me go.
So here it is. My malady in 3D. I am released.
'Monkey Spawn'
It is by just a tweak of nature or environment that we are here in our current form. Evolution has many branches. Had the World been a wetter place, would we, or indeed would monkeys, have evolved to spawn like frogs instead of give birth to live young?
At first engagement, I want the onlooker to feel safe, familiar even, with my installation. It looks like a quiet glade. But as you inspect, you begin to feel a disquiet. A nest made of wrapped bones. Strange footprints that appear to be made by a one-footed animal. And above you, a huge ball of monkey spawn, suspended in spit. What creatures made these marks? How large is the mother of this nest? Is she nearby? Is she watching you? Are you indeed safe? The onlooker becomes an intruder. How long dare you stay?
'Monkey Spawn' will show at the FE McWilliam sculpture gallery in Banbridge, Northern Ireland as part of 'Another Dimension. Print in 3D' until 15th May 2011.
Over the last few years, I've leapt on any unattended loom in my vicinity and relished weaving. But I knew that a loom of my own was a long way off. Extra-wide, 8-shaft countermarch looms aren't cheap, or that readily available on this side of the Irish Sea.
Then a little, brown sparrow of a loom came into my life.
Woodworm-ridden, rusty
and delapidated after 30 years in a stable, it had lost its voice.
But I treated her wounds, painted her metal-work gold, and gave her a new coat of blue.
Missing pieces were replaced using reclaimed mill bobbins and timber.
Pretty bows
And lace bobbins now adorn her limbs.
Spare findings hang in her basket.
And she's started to sing again. Her voice was as rusty as her heddles had been.
But the cloth is starting to flow, winding around.
We've a way to go. The weavers amongst you will spot that the harnesses are hanging too high and need adjustment; and that my tension in the 30-year old warp that was on her isn't even.
But Rome wasn't built in a day. And wings take a while to get back their strength. And one day, I plan to turn her into an 8-shaft too.
But for now, in the early-morning autumnal mornings, she and I are humming away together, enjoying our new friendship and getting to know each other; making our new slice of Ulster history.
Hold onto your dashboard - I certainly did - as we snaked our way down winding roads with nothing but sheer cliffs, precipices and scree mountain faces to scare the living bejesus out of us....
The scaredy cat in me found relief oohing and ahhing at Carson City and Reno as we drove the smooth roads of Nevada.
We were running ahead of the snow, trying not to freeze our pretty little potooties off. Californina Ho! We drove through trees - literally.
Via Clear Lake.
To redwood forests filled with wonderous fungi.
Silent dampness.
Misty clouded mornings.
Running to keep warm in the ancient moisture.
The Dyer Giant - Those are its roots. The hub's there for scale.
More beautiful fungi.
And finally, some sunshine and warmth
to ease our bones.
Cedar avenues.
Sun-bleached yarns in Mendocino weaving studio window.
And our hotel,
repleat with spinning spot.
I plied my Granny Smith's Citrus batt with a Funky Ulster Tweed Batt.
Think this may be where they invented sunsets.
And spooky river inlets.
Breakfast at a cafe with its original gas pump.
Jaws-style piers for lunch.
Duh du. Duh du. Dum dum dum dum dum dum dum dum....dananaaaaaaa.
But we needed to catch a plane pronto.
And so it was, to San Fran, but bypassing the city, and to the airport.
Tampa bound.....
So from tree looms attacked by squirrels and natural leaf doilies on frosty mornings to our favourite place in the world. The Adirondecks.
And then pumpkin carving with our buddies before flying to Portland.
The population of Portland prides itself on keeping it weird. A tradition that they seem to have perfected. Way too weird for me - and I never thought I'd say that. But if it means we can eat Voodoo doll doughnuts and laugh ourselves stupid over mimosa cocktails with our buddies at breakfast, then it was fun.
And then of course. We (hopefully) broke the world record for the biggest crochet hook.
We made a basic web out of yarn we'd spun from wool. We went for texture and lumps and bumps, navajo plying it badly for extra texture. (There's me and Jimbo)
Then we used the hook. (That's Laurie of the CLF.)
And crocheted the outer part of the web.
Yes I am gurning as I strain to lift that darn thing. That's a genuine sweat being broken. But we did it!
Next - the Coast Starlight train to Oakland.
Before surrendering to the beauty of Yosemite.
Marvelling at Lake Tenaya.
And crocheting and knitting my fugly sock on lake Tahoe.
More in a few days.....
For a perfectly surreal Halloween you will need:
One chunk of Jimbo genius, carved into a HUGE crochet hook.
A dolly mix of me.
A splash of Crochet Liberation Front.
Mash liberally in a Twisted Yarn store.
And what do you get?
So what are you waiting for?
Come join us!
So for the last three weeks, I've been lucky enough to be staying at the most beautiful of schools, Shiplake College,
where the hub and I scored the deal of being artists in residence.
Set on the River Thames, it's like Harry Potter with rowing facilities. (Their Dep.Head is an Olympian Gold Medal Rower, don't you know...)
As you can see, the beautiful surroundings, wall-to-wall sunshine, misty mornings and general eagerness to explore and learn at the college were hellish....
With the luxury of an orchard all to myself, I was able to while away the hours crocheting on the trees,
using neolithic principles to build a loom
and creating a 12th Century-inspired spinning wheel from 21st Century junk.
I span Herdwick on the newly-built wheel. The resulting cob made my heart leap, as it mirrored the huge cones on a nearby fir. Pleasure perfection.
I ventured into new realms of natural graffiti, creating leaf stencils
and veneer marquetry to reinstall in nature.
Along with students, we explored the space amongst the trees using threads and fibres,
then challenged our egos by taking them down, often without even a photographic record. (These are two of the few taken.)
Ask yourself, as an artist, do you need everyone to know that you created a piece, or was the process satisfaction enough? Ironic to discuss on a public blog, but I for one, do not show and tell a great majority of my work. Sometimes it's a secret between me and the piece.
So the adventures continue to bloom and blossom, not just in England, but in just a fortnight across the pond, in the USA, too. Again with the hub, I will be exploring all these ideas and more, with the students of St Lawrence, Canton, NY. I am beside myself with excitement and cannot wait to meet them all. I hope they're looking forward to it, as much as me.
So there's a credit crunch and the summer's been crappy. But it's sparkly in my studio.
I'm carding batts ready for the adventurous spinners who visit my stall at I Knit Weekend.
There's a saucy 'Dirty Weekend' range with lace and silky rags carded in.
A Gold-Rimmed Teacup range - some of which come in a bundle with your own vintage bone china cup, saucer and plate. (Well, who doesn't like a mid afternoon treat whilst spinning?)
And a special VEGAN range - all non-animal fibre blends. Martha Stewart Blues is my favourite....
Don't worry - not everything is sparkly. I've got tonnes of tweedy blends and colourful squishiness packed ready to go-go.
And because we're all on tight budgets this year, I've made up some bundles of 2 or 3 different blends, so you can explore a few colourways for the same price as one ordinary-sized batt.
And on top of that, Let Me Ease Your Day will be in full swing, too. So join in and make a hat to gift in a random act of kindness.
Let count down commence!
Sept 1st sees the start of my UK and US tours. This will mean I'm not here to send out batts for my etsy shop. (see box on right)
The shop will be 'On Vaction' until January. Yes, I did say JANUARY!
So unless you're dropping by my stall at I Knit in London on the 11th September,
the next month will be the last chance to purchase my fibre.
I know it's summer now, but have you thought about your winter spinning?
I've even knocked a few dollars off each batt.
So there it is.... one month and counting.....
and if they're not sold....
I get 6 months' worth of touring to spin them for myself.....
wooooooooooooooo hooooooooooooooo!
For those of you who dropped by to peruse my shop and found nothing, my apologies.
I was stocktaking and re-listing my fibre after quite a few batts went missing at a recent show.
BUT IT'S BACK - with lots of DELICIOUS photos. And my batts are now at show prices. Enjoy!
