Wednesday, June 26, 2024

dirty pot

 “every colour

harbors its own soul”

-emil nolde 


following years of rust dyeing, i finally decided to delve into the mysteries of eco dyeing and chose the “dirty pot” method for my first experiments. having found a lovely old oval aluminium pot at a charity shop, i dug through my stash of rusty iron bits and came up with a couple rusted horse shoes to donate to the cause. add in some fresh spring water, a pint (-ish, i am not much of a measurer) of vinegar and a fistful of mostly brown onion skins (a few red ones fell into the mix just because they are mischievous that way,), and it was ready to begin its magic! 


whilst that concoction was busy bubbling and toiling its way to magical perfection, i raided my stash of scrap cottons and linens. being unfamiliar with this process and uncertain of  its outcomes, i grabbed a handful of the most hideous vintage linen hankies i could find (so i would not mourn their demise should things go all pear shaped) and assorted quilting cotton strips ripped to true up edges and other random scraps, one a textured cotton and another a bit of lovely handwoven hemp cloth.


again, not having any experience, i forged ahead, ignoring all the “rules” i had read about (you know me, i simply detest rules!) and rolled half of my clothy treasures up, sprinkled with more onion skin fragments, into a semi-tight bundle. i tied it up with some cotton thread, thinking it would make wonderful variegated thread for embroidering with later on, and then contemplated the next bunch. this second group of scraps and abominable lacy linen hankies (ick!) i decided not to roll (being the rebel role breaking fiend that i am) and just scrunched them all piggety wigglety and tied them up with more cotton thread!


then into the roiling concoction these bundles went to undergo their magical transformation! four hours of bubbling and boiling they went with only the occasional respite as fresh water was added to replenish the levels. it looked a right mess, all blackened and muddy. even the onion skins had turned a terrifyingly deep black from the chemical reaction with  the rusted iron! i resolutely pressed on and allowed the muck the grace to do what it was going to do, all the while now fully convinced it would end up chucked in the wheely bin in its entirety when all was said and done.


not having the forethought to acquire tongs or serving spoons i could dedicate to this process, i could not immediately fish the bundles from their steaming brew, so i shut off the burner, covered the dirty pot (by now the rusty vinegar smell was rather potent, explaining why so many of the videos i had watched about dirty dyeing were shot outdoors) and let them cool. 


an hour or so later, my bundles were scooped out of the muck, squeezed and laid out on the deck to dry overnight (look at me, following rules for once!). settled in on the davenport at the kitchen table with a fresh cup of steaming chai in hand, i contemplated the day’s labor and wondered whether it would all be a success or a great wholloping waste of time? drip. drop. splutter. splatter.  it began to rain. rain! eyes rolling, i huffed outside to gather my precious (or worthless?) bundles in from the offending skywater threatening to foil my day’s adventures.  no more fannying about, breaking the one rule i actually attempted to follow, i unbundled my bundles here and now (back to rule breaking!). in my agitation i completely forgot about the why’s of my using cotton thread to tie them up, i broke those threads apart (sorry, dear future embroideries) and freed the most gorgeous scraps of murky greens, stormy grays, and redolent reds! my day’s endeavors were not wasted and i now have my first lot of lovely eco dyed scraps to play with!


even more fortuitous for this newly emboldened eco dyer, my lovely fiancé came home and grumbled about the smell and set to making a lovely lamb and roasted veg supper, filling our home with delicious smells and our bellies with delightful goodness!



i could not have asked for a better way to end my week off!

namasté


Sunday, May 26, 2024

moon, soft and wild

 “everyone is a moon,

and has a dark side

which he never shows to anybody.”

-mark twain



three years have trudged through the darkness. my last post added at the onset of a world pandemic that extinguished millions of bright sparks. my bodhi expired shortly thereafter after seeing me through some of the darkest years of my life and there was nothing i could do but hold him as he passed and remember the joy he brought me. plunged into deep depression, my life was strained. bear lifted me up daily and helped me find my way through it all. 

there is light and joy in my life now, thanks to him. none (at least, not much) of this was on display to the “outside.”  glimpses of light were shared in short form on instagram and mirrored on facebook. here, however, has always been a deeper, more raw space. looking so deep was not an option… but it is time i wake up. stop hiding from the depths. the depths are where the shadows lie, true. the depths are also where the wells of joy reside!



bodhi left such a rift in my heart that i was unable to bring home another, even still. critters have a mysterious way, however, of filling these voids whether or not we would them. this is cat.  

we rescued a starving, tiny fluff ball a few months ago from the jaws and talons of a gargantuan owl that had already swallowed his mother and five siblings. we weren’t even sure he’d make it through the night when we heard his pitiful cries from his hiding space beneath his mother’s carcass in the field behind the scale house (i’m working again, at a different special waste landfill for the oil fields), but his spirit is valiant! he now keeps our scale house free from mice and has worked his way into all of our hearts (even that of those who are “confirmed dislikers of cats”).  working with a bunch of redneck operators, he was almost named something crude and vulgar, until the voice of reason (was that me?) commanded the reins of this particular naming carriage and dubbed him “cat, the poor slob without a name.” yes, i am indeed a fanboy of breakfast at tiffany’s and all things audrey hepburn! cat fulfills my need for a furry in my life, but being a shop cat keeps him safe from breaking my heart again (or so i’ve convinced myself…ssshhhh…don’t try to convince me otherwise!).