The fact that my daughter sent me this lovely printed towel for no reason means she is thoughtful and loving. That she knew how it was hand-screened means she grew up knowing printing techniques. I've done my work.
I volunteered to photograph the raffle quilt for the Genesee Valley Quilt Club yesterday. It was not difficult, except that my ceilings were 4" too short. Thank goodness for friends with vaulted ceilings (and nothing scheduled for the day).
Rachel Maddow suggested this cocktail when Harriet Tubman was chosen to be on the new $20. So, I can't lie. It was (after the first presidential debate) time to make this again and imbibe. Recipe courtesy my friend.
Or, is it "Art imitates life"? I was struck with the patterning caused by the roots clinging to this granite bolder. Although bolder is not quite the word needed here. (It was the size of a house.) The same kind of patterning I seek with shibori dyed fabric.
A delivery stop to Cris Winters' Art at the Pink House caught Cris (hidden by the shirt) and her student unwrapping an eco dyed shirt she had made the day before my visit. A delight to see, the technique will be offered again by Cris. Just find her gallery in Saranac Lake.
Knowing I'd be unable to print for a few days, I had to use up the remaining dyes. So, another large piece of linen and the attack of the putty knife. I love the way it comes out, but I'll have to let it sit for a night to see how it washes out.
There is nothing to compare to silk's appeal. Adding color and pattern, and painting with thickened dye has been a rewarding challenge. Can't wait for cool weather to wear these scarves. I've made them 1/2 yard wide and 2 yards long. Five are in the gallery at Saranac Lake -- Art at the Pink House.
Stitched, stacked, and plumped up, these are the pillows I'll take to Saranac Lake and Art at the Pink House. Later this fall they'll be available in that gallery. All are made from the same hunk of hand-painted linen.
Sometimes I just dispense with the container and mix palette-style right on the plastic. I've added a bit of thickener to the thickened dye to cut the amount of color. Now I'll add it with the putty knife to the silk scarf.
Last spring I taught a class in Montreal, and was gifted this wonderful maple syrup. It's the best -- and Canadian made -- and now that we've had just a nip of cool weather, I can justify opening it and pouring it on pancakes. Thank you millions, Suzanne.
Jenna was in my class for improvisational quilting. We learned thin lines, cutting up, rearranging. But what she added -- and you can see it here -- that beautiful hand stitched kantha line, really changed the piece. So nice to see the piece not only finished, but worked with extra care.
The Rochester Institute of Technology's Faculty Show this year has this work by Albert Paley. His large scale works are everywhere, it seems, from here to Ames, Iowa. So, this small work was a treat for its complexity and monumentality in a small scale.
If I've laid down patterns, or prints, I'll often let it set and dry a bit before adding in more layers. The dyes are transparent, to a degree, so it will mix to a third color. I like the result and complexity.
I printed a silk scarf, and because it was so thin, and the dye deposited on the plastic of the table, I thought it would be fun to transfer that to a second silk scarf. I'm using a stiff wallpaper brush to smooth the surface.
Wendell Castle's new exhibition showcases his sketches and, in this case, a maquette for the sculpture as well. The University Gallery at RIT opened his show tonight, and the statement to draw, and draw a lot, did not go unnoticed.
September marks the return to quilt club meetings. The GVQC met, and Ruth Ohol brought a quilt that seemed to have all the good and interesting bits on the reverse side. With ombre fabric and crafty quilting, it was a sight to see.
I've been direct dying yards with thickened dye. I love the way it moves across the fabric, and holds for deep, saturated color. The iron, just a cheapy, does the trick if I've premoistened the fabric.
I buy glads this day every year to remind me that I carried them at my wedding. Many people who attended that day years ago are now moved on, many have passed on, and many have since come into my life, renewing it. These flowers are markers for how changes continue, year after year.
In the vein of "Oh, So That's What You Do," I present my water spritzed fabric, bundled in plastic, ready when I've time to iron. Guess I've dropped that steam iron so many times I dare not put water in it.
Renee Altman, gifted potter, had a booth across from me at the Kenan Center's 100 American Craftsmen in (you guessed) 1983. For fiber artists, the signature may not be as quickly added, but it's necessary to leave behind the who and when.
Last night's closing First Friday at the Nu Mvmnt gallery space saw Amy Vena, who curated and organized the show, and printmakers Connie Mauro and Elizabeth King Durand stop in to see my work. Strong women, all, and happy to be in their company.
First Thursday of the month is a garden tour, and we revisited Sara's Garden Center. These lotus seed heads are from the same patch I photographed a few years back. They are also my next quilt. Gotta get it on the longarm!
Every day (just about) I eat plain yogurt -- not that weird greek stuff -- and so have lots of containers. These get a heap of dye, mixed in water, then a few blobs of thickened print paste (sodium alginate stuff), stirred to the right smoothness. Then the fun starts.