Dancing with Dryads

Because of a clerical error at my local college, I've spent my fall taking the 'Design for Textiles' class again.  It's really not any problem to take this class again.  The last time was when I first entered the program 3 years ago, having no idea what I was doing.  To repeat it with the full program curriculum under my belt now has been  a lot of fun.  Not being worried about fulfilling course outcomes and grades, I get to sit in this creative environment and just play, follow my muse, and see where it leads me.

One day, my muse led me through Lake Ontario Park on a search for acorns.  I never did find acorns, but I did have a good chat with some chipmunks who took me to see the Dryads .

Okay, fine, maybe it didn't happen quite like that, but there were spirits in the trees that day that I've never noticed before in all the times that I walked through the park over the years.  I believe they were out that day, celebrating Autumn; it was a beautiful day.

Captivated by the Dryads, especially the playful one leaning backwards of that branch, I decided to capture them in fibre.

I figured that  maybe I could make a quilt as my final class project.  Umm, yes, a quilt.  That word still makes me uncomfortable. Quilt.  I'm not a quilter.  I don't piece, I have no desire to sit and sew tiny cut up pieces of fabric together, and the whole prospect of actually "quilting" is scary.  I never know where to start with deciding what kind of stitching a quilt needs.  But I did have a large piece of autumn coloured fabric I died some time ago hanging around in my stash, and I did want to do something atypical of what people expect to see from my art work....

So, with not a lot of time on my hands before the project deadline, I started a whole-cloth painted quilt.  With freezer paper resists, dyes, paints, inks, and some leaves I turned my studio, and my life, upside down and got to work.  I had this all figured out in my head, and I learned that "I have a vision" isn't always good enough.  I had a vision, and I realized that I don't really know how to paint.  Why would I choose to paint a quilt if I don't know how to paint?!  No time for second guessing myself, I just worked with the knowledge I do have.

Every thing seemed to want to work against me.  I sunprinted on the day it decided to rain shortly after I got the paint applied.  I pressed leaves to use as rubbing plates and they all blew away as I was sunprinting.  The paint store was out of wood grain rockers.  It rained every day for a week so I couldn't go outside and do my messy creating, and I became panicked over my timeline.  Not being a painter, I couldn't figure out how actually go about painting the quilt.  I had the idea in my head that all the trees needed to be painted brown-like real trees-but after I painted the first one, I hated it.  I really, really hated it.  I realized then that I wouldn't be able to make the quilt look like it did in my head.  Every idea I came up with after that, didn't stick with my "whole-cloth" way of working, and I was determined to at least stick with the design challenge.  It was anxiety provoking to work in 2 dimensions, but that was the challenge to myself (no matter how stupid I think that idea turned out to be!).

Looks better with leaves!

Finally, exhausted, I just had to sit down, finish crying over it, and decide how to make it work.  I wish I had taken pictures at every stage of its creation so I could see how it went from liking it hating it and back again, but I it's too late for that now.  It doesn't matter really, what's more important to me is the journey I took through the creation of this quilt.  I rose to the challenge of working outside my realm of comfort.  I puzzled through it and had to decide on every stitch and every drop of paint.  Yes, it's "pretty different" (as a class mate said) of the way I usually create, but it's still definitely mine.

 Though I didn't manage to get all the quilting done by the last night of class (no real big surprise there, I know), it's well under way, and has great promise of actually getting finished.

The Warmth of Winter

Remember last winter and my failed attempt at the Ice Angel sculpture?   You can find that post here if you missed it.   Though a failed experiment, it has had me thinking for nearly a year about my feelings associated with the winter season, so I chose to revisit that theme.  That is, the "beautiful, extending a hand of warmth and comfort" part of the theme, not the cold, icy, alien part that last year's angel turned into.


Though I'm not a Christmas lover, I do love random gift exchanges; so I signed up for an online ornament exchange.  I love getting to make something for someone, in this case a complete stranger, knowing that they are going to receive something nice (I hope she thinks it's nice) in the mail.  It's fun for me, and it brightens someone else's day.  I know I like getting things that aren't bills in the mail.  Gift exchanges also let me create something for a purpose, and it lets me work on a deadline, so I know it's going to actually get finished!

With the phrase, "the warmth of Winter" rattling around in my head, I pulled out the wool.  What's warmer than wool in Winter?  Without much of a design plan, she evolved on her own.  Throwing in some silk and Angelina fibres, I ended up with a pretty little person-6.5 inches tall.  I found some wings in my stash that just seemed to be meant for her, so now she's a fairy.  I thought she needed something to show the warmth in her heart too, not just how warmly she could dress in wool, so she got a sweet little critter to love.

I have to say, I do love this one.  I hope her new home loves her too.

Breakdown

If you've been following my doings, I know you've been waiting for a post about sculpted legs.  That's not to be; I've hit a wall.  In fact, I haven't even picked up a ball of clay (except to throw it at a wall), let alone make legs or anything else.  Okay, I made half of one leg-with deformed toes.  I was really distraught over my trying arm and hand endeavours, found myself falling further and further behind in the class, and finally quit.  The sculpting process stopped being fun, and I got to the point where I literally threw my hands up in the air, screamed, pushed all the clay to the side and sat in a corner and stitched on a fiber piece (probably sulking).  There's no point in doing it if it's not fun.  My foray into sculpting turned into a bad vacation; seemed like a good idea until the plane crashed and I found myself walking around in a foreign land-lost and unable to communicate with anyone.

For whatever reason, maybe laziness, I pushed the clay to the side, I didn't put it away.  Maybe I should have.  I have the sculpted heads sitting out on my studio shelf, with tools and raw clay.  I walk by them dozens of time a day and look at them.  I sit across the room stitching, and find myself glancing at the clay with mixed emotions; feeling defeated, thinking I'll never make a successful sculpt, sort of knowing that at least my heads have improved head after head, and will continue to improve with practice.  Anger, sadness and longing were feelings I had too.  I sat stitching, and had this burning desire to pick up the clay and start again, but couldn't find the strength within myself to try it again.

I'm not really sure where this obsession with sculpting came from and why I have this desire to make clay sculpts.  I make cloth dolls.  CLOTH! Isn't that enough?!  I thinks there's "something" about clay.  Maybe it's the more realistic details I think I can achieve in clay, that I can't achieve in fabric.  Maybe it's the pleasure of kneading it, smooshing it and shaping it.  I do love the contrast in texture between clay body and fabric clothing.  Doesn't really matter why I suppose, it's just where I'm at right now. 

So why the ambivalence to restarting the sculpting?  Well, it would be more fun to do with other people for sure.  I'd feel safer in my explorations of unknown territory if I had someone to share the process with, to connect with, to sound ideas off of, to get feedback from.  Art is meant to be shared, and creating it is more fun in the company of others too, for me anyhow.  Same reason my fiber art production has be lackadaisical since I no longer have course deadlines at the college.  (Oh how I sometimes wish there is a focused fiber group here that meets regularly.  A group where you're actually supposed to produce work, maybe with a common goal in mind.)  Regardless, I need to find the place in myself where I'm focused and in love again with what I'm doing.  Ultimately I do it for myself anyhow, and shouldn't really need the company of others.  Perhaps I'm just lonely and lack motivation.

If not sculpting what have I been doing, other than having an artistic and mental breakdown?  I took an online workshop with Cyndi Mahlstadt of Meadowbug Studios.  The "Pretty in Black" doll seemed like lots of fun, and I really needed something fun to do with my time.  I'm thrilled with the way my doll turned out! It's even one of the few things I've made that my son truly likes!

Also, through a strange series of events the past few days, I've found someone to guide me on my sculpting journey.  I feel so blessed to have her!  She's restored my sense of fun and excitement in the the sculpting process.  Who knows where this journey will lead, but I'm so very excited to take it and am prepared to follow where ever it leads.  Now, just to get my focus and joy back in the fiber art stuff....

Well, that was pretty much a bummer to read, wasn't it?  Sorry.  Happier post next time.  I promise!

Bye Bye Blackbird

My local fibre arts group is doing a "round robin" this year.  Basically, you make a block and then it gets passed around to other group members for a year, each of whom will add another block to it. 

I loathe to make a piece specifically for this challenge with so many partly finished things lying around here, so I went through my "unfinished projects" box and found something I could use.

oh no he has no legs!

In that great big box of unfinished stuff, I spotted a large piece of hand painted fabric that I had tried free motion stitching on a few years ago when I knew little about free motion.  It's messy.  It's bunched up between all the stitches. It's embarrassing to even think about putting this piece out where other people can see it, but there's something endearing about it and I can't bring myself to just throw it in the garbage.   I hope whoever gets to work on it next forgives me for giving them something with so many flaws.

I cut it down to the size required for the round robin and I'm submitting this as my starting block.  With a bit of paint and some Paintstik, I turned a badly stitched tree branch into a badly stitched tree branch at night with songbird.  I really like the way this turned out.  Makes me want to go back and start over now that I know I could stitch the tree more successfully since I did it the first time.  

Anyhow, there's no time for starting over right now.  This block is going away tonight.  Maybe somone can give it some TLC and make the problem areas less noticeable.  Who knows.  Bye-bye little black bird.  See you next year.

Sculpting Continues

My polymer clay sculpting lessons continue with arms and hands. If I thought head's were difficult I'm in big trouble now, because arms and hands haven't come with any ease. I spent 2 weeks making, smashing and remaking arms and hands with nothing to show for it at the end of that time. It seemed to go well, until trying to bend the fingers. My long, delicate fingers turn into fat, ugly sausages every time.

My frustration also come from not having a single head that I think is worthy of getting arms and hands, and eventually being made into a finished doll. I suppose that part of the class process is to just have fun learning the techniques, but I loathe to make things that are just going to lie around the house once the class is done. I think what I have to do is pick the head that I think has the most potential in a whole piece, and not criticize its individual parts.

I tried following Marilyn's sculpting directions, and found it very frustrating. I decided to make hands with a wire armature, only to have all the wired fingers crack once baked. Makes sense I guess, metal expands when heated....

13 pairs later, I finally made a set that I was willing to live with. I wouldn't call them "good" but I was happy enough to live with them. Sure, they're long and spindly and gnarled, but I can work with that. They are the same size at least. However, right after taking the photo, the middle finger of the right hand broke off, so now I'm off to do it all over again. I think that was Karma getting me for when I threatened the hands with posing them in rude gestures if they didn't cooperate.

So back to the drawing board, or the sculpting table as it were. Hopefully I'll have a success story to share with you soon.

Sculpting Heads.

Every day, for the past 4 weeks, I've been sculpting heads with polymer clay. A far cry from my usual fibre endeavors, but a fun and welcome change with the weather being just too hot to sit and stitch.

My heads have been made in an online class taught by Marilyn Radzat (all details in the previous blog post if you're interested). Truly a fabulous class! Marilyn is a wonderful teacher, even if it is online. If you've ever wanted to sculpt human or fantasy creatures, consider taking a course with Marilyn.

I've sat for hours, day in and day out over the course of this class, sculpting, resculpting, (sometimes cursing), and eventually realizing that every time I repeated a technique, I really did become better at executing it effectively. I'd sculpt the head and post pictures in the course photo album, Marilyn would make comments about how it could be improved upon, then I'd go smash it down and do it over-keeping her suggestions in mind. It was magical to see how a few simple changes can change the whole look of a face.

The first head was pretty crude. I look at this now, and wonder how I thought it was even close to passable. I knew there was something wrong with the lips, and I didn't like the eyelids, never mind the fact that all her features were crooked; but I just couldn't seem to fix them and decided to let it be.

The second head, I like better. This one is more "fantasy" like. The eyes are better. The features are better. I had my "ah-ha" moment in how lips are supposed to work! That was a truly great moment, because it showed me what is wrong with the faces of my previous sculpts like Candy and the Ice Angel. Also, I think this face is closer to being more feminine, and my ultimate goal is to be able to sculpt a pretty female face. Overall, I'm pretty pleased with head #2.

I really enjoyed making head 3. This is when I had enough confidence in the experience I had gained by sculpting the first 2 heads over and over to know which of Marilyn's techniques didn't seem to fit my style of sculpting, and to modify them to work for me. While this head is quite a bit bigger than the first 2, and I'm not sure how I'll use such a large head, I'm pleased with the way this one turned out.

My education in polymer clay continued when I baked these 3 heads. First thing to understand is that I don't really know much about polymer clay. To me, it's all the same. What I learned is that it is not. The recommended clay was Prosculpt. I used SuperSculpey because that's the clay readily available here. The difference? Well, I can't personally speak to the differences in colour or texture or blending or the like, but I can tell you that SuperSculpey is prone to "plaquing" or to "moonies". What does this mean? It means the sculpture you've spent precious time, love and energy on may come out of the oven looking like it's diseased, covered in white marks.

There are lots of theories about what causes these marks, but most believe that they are caused by air trapped under the clay. Working the clay less results in fewer moonies was a hint I read somewhere. I'm inclined to agree, because head number 1-the head that I rebuilt with the same clay half a dozen times, came out of the oven looking like it has the measles. Head number 3, went together fairly quickly, and has the fewest. Head 2 was somewhere in the middle of these.

I tried fixing the moonies in head 2 by poking them out with a sharp tool, and filling the holes with fresh clay. That didn't fix the problem as well as I hoped. I'm told that Prosculpt is not as prone to mooning as this clay, but it is frustrating having 3 heads that I hoped to use with these marks all over them. I thought I was going to have to order the Prosculpt and start all over, but a wonderful feature of polymer clay is that it can be painted.

Painting the heads was a whole new experience, but it was one I enjoyed, doing it freely. I figured, with distorted, moonie ridden faces, these heads will never be made into finished projects, so there was no concern that I would ruin them with paint. This process became all about having fun, and making the face come alive with personality. It was fun to see how they each changed in personality after painting. While I'm still not sure how I feel about covering the entire face surface in paint, I do have to admit that doing so solves the moonie problem.

While #1 is still ugly, #2 and 3 have endeared themselves to me. 2, (yes, I'm referring to them by numbers like Borg, they haven't transformed enough yet to deserve names) I guess, is a man as well, but he has a strong, kind face. I used some interference paint on him which was a new product for me and I love it. (My little brain is rattling with the possible uses for interference paint on fibre, but I must stay focused here on clay!)

3 used to look humorous, now she looks sleepy (or stoned as the boys here put it). I'm very pleased with the smooth application of the paint on this one. I also think this one might be able to pass for a woman!

Regardless of how any of them turned out, the process was fun, and I learned things that will be helpful to my art, in whatever form it takes.

What's happening here

I've really been trying to focus long enough to finish some things up, but I'm not one to pass up an opportunity to learn something new. So, when I got an email from A for Artistic, about their online classes, I naturally HAD to sign up for one. They send you 1 lesson a week for the duration of the course, and I thought that even bubble-headed I surely could manage that!

I enrolled myself in the class called "Let Sleeping Dragons Lie", being presented by Diane Zammito and Sandy Leal. Why? Well, firstly, the finished baby dragons are so gosh darn cute! Also, it gave me the opportunity to learn some new techniques (sewing on paw pads), and work with some products I was unfamiliar with (Wire Knitz, metallic tissue silk). Most importantly, I signed up as a favour to Kami who is still on my work table, dragonless. The more I thought about Kami's dragon, the more scared I got of it, not having a clue how to make a dragon.

One fun workshop later, I have a baby dragon (well 1 and a half dragons) living in my studio as well as pretty good idea of how to create a water dragon for Kami.

In fact, I had so much fun at this workshop, I've signed up for a workshop series at A for Artistic to keep me busy for the summer (and well into the fall). Sure, okay, not the best idea if I want to get some things finished, but it's a sculpting series, and if you think back to Candy or the ice angel, you'll probably agree, my sculpted human faces could use some help in the beauty department. I really want to be able to sculpt pretty people, and Marilyn Radzat has created hosts of stunning sculptures.

The best part of these workshops is of course that at the end I have finished projects!

Needle Felting Fun

Last night in my monthly fibre art group meeting, we spent a fun evening needle felting. Though I accomplished very little felting (instead musing over the silk paper lesson I had taken earlier in the day), I did randomly felt over some Styrofoam balls, leaving at the end of the evening with the intention of making them into a frog.

However, at 3am, I woke up and knew that these balls weren't pieces of a frog, they were pieces of a wee Japanese girl! Pulling out my felting supplies, and cursing Inspiration for arriving such a crude hour, I sat curled up in bed and poked, poked, poked, until she took shape. Not until I plunked her lovely green hair on top of her head was I able to sleep again. Surely, I'm not the only artist who has random,flash creative sessions in the middle of the night?!

Of course, now I don't have the right colours of wool to finish her, and when I went to order, I found that my regular wool supplier seems to no longer be selling, so I guess finishing will have to wait until I get my hands on more wool.

Frustrating not being able to finish her right now, but I think I may have gained the confidence to felt some of the critters that have been lurking in my sketchbook.

A Simple Lesson in Texture

Remember my "Snow Angel" from January? No, don't get excited, she isn't finished, though I haven't forgotten about her. I've spent some more time on her wings recently, and observed the difference that "texture" can make. Not that I didn't know about the importance of texture in art, but sometimes its good to reflect on it!

Here are the wings viewed from the front. Simple. Cold. Stone-like. All that's great since that is what I was going for! (Excuse the glaring view of the navel in the photo, but the wings are firmly attached to her back.)

On the reverse side of the wings I added in some simple lines, adding texture to each feather. See the difference that simple lines can make? This side looks soft, and, well, feathery. Now I'm happy that I made the wings in clay becaue I can't imagine myself stitting around stitching all those lines into fabric feathers.

I've Come Out of Hiding

It's been a while, but I have not disappeared nor have I quit creating. This year has been busy for me, with completing the last course for my Fibre Art certificate at the College, and I just haven't been able to spare a minute away from my course work to sit and write. As of last night, the course is officially finished, so now I can share what I've been up to.

The basic idea is that there was a small project given every week in class(of which I had to complete at least 1) and then I had to create 1 large piece of my own choice, that somehow related to what was learned in class. While there are many projects I just didn't get to, here are the one's I did attempt.

The first week we were given some dried cattail reeds, and told to weave with them. I made this reindeer, and the star. I had a plan for that star....

Next, we were each given a Barbie doll, some scraps of leathers and furs, and told to keep Barbie warm, with no machine stitching. Though I used a leather needle, it was not an easy task to sew this stuff. In the end, I think her clothing turned out well enough, using lots of simple shapes with wrapping and tying. I'm pretty pleased with her fur boots; they have leather soles. I'll use these boots again on one of my dolls some day.

There was a silk assignment, where we were given some pieces of silk and asked to turn them into something. I made this bag from the Noriko handbag pattern (after I altered it a little bit) which was found at http://www.lazygirldesigns.com/blog/?p=1920 (I see it's no longer available). I gave it a painted silk cocoon tassle with some beautiful Japanese Tensha beads. My button closure is a polymer clay button created using a cherry blossom cane I made. Though I'm not entirely happy with the cane-I think the yellow center is too large, the petals of my flowers too pointy, and I probably should have packed the cane with blue and not transparent (though I didn't because maybe I don't want to use the rest of the cane on blue!)-I am pleased with the finished button and really do like it on this bag.

Before this class, I have never much worked with silk, so I spent a lot of time playing with silk. I dyed some silk scarves, and accidentally burnt one. On the green one I did a lot of shibori stitching, and am still in awe of just how much time it takes to cover a scarf with a simple running stitch. I took a stab at silk paper, and have no desire to ever repeat this technique (why turn that beautiful silk fibre into plastic?). I know someone who says if you don't like it "cut it up", so that's what I did to the flat paper after I free motion stitched it with silk threads. I cut it up and turned my silk paper into silk paper beads. They're beautiful little beads, so I strung them on silk cord with dyed silk cocoons and sterling silver.

With cotton fabrics I was to make a landscape. I sketched a beautiful landscape, but never made it because in an

unrelated workshop I was asked to make a collage on Solvy. In an effort to combine both projects, I thought I could make a collaged landscape on the Solvy. Though it's not anywhere close to being finished, I think this has promise and will continue on this one. I like my trees. For someone who can't draw, those are pretty good trees if I do say so myself!

I took a stab at basket weaving, and spinning with a drop spindle. Spinning wasn't a successful endeavor for me, but I'm glad to have had the opportunity.

Finally, for the "large finished project", I wanted to take everything we had learned, and combine it into one doll. I made her body out of old crib bedding (we spent a week on "recycling") but Jessica Abbott never got any further than that. I got wrapped up in felt.

I love felt. I'm intrigued by felt. I like the magic of felt, the feel of felt, the simplicity in its creation and its versatility. I've been a happy needlefelter for some time, but haven't had much of an opportunity to experiment with wet felt. We had an introductory lesson to felt one class, and I decided then that I'd like to work more with felt, so I abandoned poor Jessica Abbbott to work on a felted vessel. Besides, the name of the course is Fibres to Fabrics, and what better way to turn loose fiber into a fabric than felt?! I had a beautiful batt of an alpaca, wool and silk blend and decided to felt a 3 dimensional vessel incorporating some skeletal leaves and wool locks.

I covered a wine bottle with the fibers and began the felting process, then realized that I had to get that bottle out somehow (without smashing it with a hammer and pouring the shattered glass out the hole in the top of the vessel. Pulling the fibers away from the bottom I felted, and felted, and felted, and....well, you get the picture. After 3 hours I wasn't even at the stage of prefelt and contacted the instructor to tell me what I was doing wrong. I learned that Alpaca is harder to felt that the sheep wools I'm used to, and I should try alternating between hot and cold water. I kept at it, the alternating of temperatures was effective and finally, it started to felt successfully. I took it off the bottle after it dried, and it collapsed in on itself. I didn't quite get it at first, though the problem seems obvious now-the inside of the vessel wasn't felted yet. Just as well it had no bottom-that made it easier to turn the vessel inside out to felt. After a few more hours of felting, I did some embroidery around the skeletal leaves, and felted some more, then rolled it and rubbing it on the washboard. After more embroidery, and some beautiful Delica beads were added, I sewed on a bottom that was felted separately. The finished vessel is quite sturdy and stands straight on its own, but I chose to insert a bottle (a beer bottle-just to give you an idea of how much shrinkage occurred during the felting process). I plan on using this piece to hold some pussy willow once I get some, but the bottle gives the option of filling it with water to hold fresh flowers. I really do like this finished piece, so I guess the hours of repetitive rubbing were worth the pain it caused my poor hands.

Magical Snow Leopard

I posted photos the other day of my snow dying results, and I noticed something wonderful in a piece from batch 3! Did you see it too? Here's the original photo.

What a wonderful happenstance. Random events came together to provide this image. First, that the image is dyed there at all of course. But also that I placed the piece of fabric down oriented in the right direction and happened to stand on the right side of it to photograph it. I looked at these fabrics for some time before taking the photos, and never saw the image in the cloth, so truly its a wonder I have this at all. I could have cut it up-that's a ghastly thought now.

For those of you who think I'm seeing this, it's in the piece on the bottom right. Here it is cropped in. There's a leopard. Actually I see a leopard in 2 directions, one sitting the other pouncing. After careful consideration, I'm favouring the pouncing leopard.

With a some quick brush strokes around the image in Photoshop and the addition of a tail, you can see the outline now too. Yes, my Photoshop skills are lacking, and that's one scary looking kitty, but I'm sure I can make this much more stunning with needle and thread. I'm so over the moon happy with this discovery. I don't know what to do with this leopard. Just stitch the piece and frame it? Piece it in to something larger?

Snow, Glorious Snow Dye!

The "Blizzard of the Century", which was messy but highly over rated here hit today. Schools were closed, and I got to stay home from work and play! What do fiber artists do on snowy days? Snow dye of course! (even though I know I should be finishing up some unfinished projects and painting a snow angel...)

To be fair, I started this process several days ago in anticipation of having fresh fluffy snow today. On Sunday, I cut up my fabric into the sizes I wanted and soaked them in soda ash for several hours. I also mixed my dye pots. I'm using Procion MX dye from Pro Chemical . Since there is NO soda ash in my dye pots, they will last a while after being prepared.

The first batch I dyed right after I took the fabric out of the soda ash. I wrung the excess water out, scrunched up the fabric, placed it on my dye tray and took it outdoors. I piled about 3 or 4 inches of snow on top, patted it down lightly and poured my dye over top in a random pattern, using mixing blue, turquoise, ultraviolet and mulberry. It was so cold out, my fingers were burning by the time I was able to bring it all back inside, and all I could think was, "this better be worth it".

I'm pleased with these pieces, so I guess risking frostbitten fingers was worth it!

Monday started with frozen solid fabric. I had wrung it out of soda ash, placed the fabrics in a freezer bag and froze them the night before . Really, I mean they were frozen solid. It was like a little iceberg. So, this bunch of fabric had 2 things different than Sunday's fabric. First, it was MUCH colder. Second, it was a frozen solid lump, so I couldn't manipulate the fabric however I wanted before dying. I used the same process though; covered it in snow, this time packing the snow down firmly, and poured the dye on top. This batch used golden yellow, turquoise, and celery.

This batch took all day to melt, about 8 hours inside my house before most of the snow melted away. MX dyes by nature work better when warm, so dying in snow is sort of a weird experiment...and this batch was REALLY cold. Also, some people say that colours with a lot of turquoise don't do well with snow dye techniques. So, 2 strikes against this batch, but this is what I ended up with. My golden yellow (which really started out much more orange) is now very yellow, yes, the turquoise is very faint and I don't really see much green (I suspect because my green separated into blue and more yellow). These pieces also have much more white in them than Sunday's batch. While I don't love these pieces as much as the first ones, they are still very "Springy" and will have their place in my planned Spring Thaw quilt.

Batch 3 was done in today's snowstorm. This time I started with partially thawed fabric. Mostly it was thawed enough to manipulate, but there were still some frozen areas. Today I also changed up how I put the dye on the fabric. This time I filled a container with snow, mixed in a bit of dye and then put the coloured snow on the fabrics. I didn't put nearly as much snow on top as in the previous batches-just enough to thoroughly cover the fabric. Black, mixing red, turquoise and celery were today's colour selection, though you can see my dye was covered with fresh snow as it fell from the sky faster than I could get into the house. I'm thrilled with the results of this batch, I just love them! The dye colours separated a lot and there's colours on my fabric I never put on it; lots of blue, some brown and most surprisingly yellow! (makes sense I guess, blue and yellow from the green, probably blues and browns and whatever else from the black).

Okay, so I was only going to do 3 batches, but I still have more dye to use up, and more white fabric too, so I think I'm going to keep at this for a while! I'll give it a try on some silk and see how that differs from the cotton. I'm also wondering what would happen if I froze dye in ice cube trays, crushed the ice cubes and then sprinkled it over the fabric like salt? Oh the possibilities!