mountain day

living 10 miles or so from the blue line is a boon. i get to live in the foothills, with university and st. lawrence river and ontario access, in the biggest county east of the mississippi. the blue line, a magic line encircling the adirondack forest preserve has as it's creed forever wild. 

we visit, attend concerts and openings, eat, shop, hike, ski there. i learned about lichens crawling around in the woods there. i found a brown shelf fungus that grew on red pines that yielded a lavender dye upon testing. 

the birch store in keene valley always has at least one exquisite textile. you find cashmere and linen and textures to dance your fingers over. exquisite items. i used to sell my miniature tapestries and igs, and even some books there. contrast with this place

i don't know joe's story, but his is a place name now (and there's a place called paul smiths where paul smiths college is. one nephew graduated from there). so sunday hannah, wendy, and i took a break and went to the mountains. now, this morning, these foothills look even more beautiful. very few maples had begun to turn color, it's a long hot summer. that top photo: it's a cloud event. another nephew (who also graduated from an adirondack college) used to record these events on whiteface mountain. part of the initial acid rain research. 

color and text(ure)

these are naturally dyed kozo papers, a gift from wendy from the japanese paper place, that i have out to use, or at least to think about as i step forward into making shifu. 

it's a book, says mark. i want you to show it to my students.

i went to town today to the slu library to look at a book by mark mcmurray of caliban press and archivist at the library. this is what i went looking for:

it's called  

illustrated by tim ely.

i went to look at this book, to talk with mark a little about the papermaking class he asked me to teach to his history of artists' books class, and to go on to the farmer's market. what i found out was that tim was his binding teacher in the 80s.

synchronicity.

andrea (with lovely toenails) and marilla and their wheels, just back from two workshops, nuno felt in massachuetts, and spinning in harrisville. i'm no fan of felt, but this stuff has lovely drape and hand, and reminds me of the cloak of india's i wore.

color feasts, pale in kozo, richest in silk

and huge in sky, and i'm guessing, paint on letterpress.

Gerdiary: Cover story

Gerdiary: Cover story

i like these covers...and the bookishness is really intriguing.

hazy morning

i got up around five today, and this was what i saw. 

and this is what i'm thinking about and working on

a book called changed (i think) and the twirl of fiber?--a poem, written twice, spun once.

quote from video

"books are so peculiar in that they're not like paintings where you can just walk into a gallery, touch nothing, and walk out unscathed. books have to be examined. they have to be touched. it's best if you smell them. there's something about that, that intimacy, that connectedness, you just can't curl up with a painting." timothy c ely

shifu books 1 and 3, 2 1/2 inches square by 3/4 inch

i've been spinning kozo from the morgan conservatory today in preparation for making a small piece for their fundraising auction.

kozo: one sheet spun, one sheet open, one sheet being cut

a damaged sheet, too thin sheetformation at the watermark

cut, then the strip is ripped into one continuous thin sheet of paper before spinning

the harvest from three sheets of 11x14 kozo

good work

there are times when i become intrigued with someone's work, and end up reading all of, say, terry tempest williams, or looking at all of hedi kyle's inventive structures and finding one of her workshops, peruse for hours the lovely papers at cave papers, perhaps seeing the group of seven oil sketches in the national gallery. i get hooked on a voice. a vision. another way of seeing and understanding that somehow infuses mine, which i suppose is research. or, as i say (wendy!) someone who "gets it". they resonate. often that person is female, sometimes not. this internet has been a boon to hermits like me. because the bits isolated old me gets to see are now so much bigger. and i can view video right on this macbook.

yesterday i watched a book artist talk with such love about his work. awe might be a better word, but in any case timothy c. ely caught my imagination yet again. about 15 years ago i was in our wonderful local university bookstore and i found this book. which i had to buy. it was made like a fine art book crossed with a magnificent children's picture book.

it is called the flight into egypt, binding the book. it is simultaneously a book about a mysterious journey into egypt and building a book, and includes amazing drawings and marks. it is so very much more than just what i've written. it was obviously a facsimile of a book, and even though the book is lovely, it is, i know not nearly what the original was.

i recently visited the website of the planetary collage and found this book, a catalog of work from a show a few years back. i purchased it and got a fine email from tim with the purchase arrangements. he inscribed it for me, including more beautiful marks in his own writing system, with enough english to help me along.

this is, i think, one of the blessings of the internet, this connecting. in the video, tim mentions a huge difference in book art and, say, painting. the book is held in the hands, explored with the eyes, it's best if it's smelled. how right he is, how intimate and visceral this experience is! 

it is my hope that my work in textiles, papers, fibers, is becoming stories, books, that, if possible, heal.

cool night

i slept under a wool blanket, a quilt and flannel sheet last night. the night before, just a sheet. it's august, season of changes. my plan was to go to visit bob and frank, but on the road i realized that i felt rotten. and that it wasn't worth it. (frank, i'll mail the slippery elm to you) so i came home, had an easy night and was sick while i mowed the lawn, instead of inflicting myself on others. 

walking wendy was pleasant in the cool and coyotes talked to each other in the far edges.

the magic lilies are up and making a nice show. i broke two stems in my eager weeding.

when you make art about something, you become so connected. this phenomenon, magic lilies, occurred every year i've been here, 24. last year i made an artists' book about them. 

and now we are close friends. i look for them, instead of forget about their weird ways. it's all about paying attention, being present. for magic. for lilies. 

when the dyeing dries, it is muted. the character changes. paper absorbs pigments and reflects light so differently than fabric. of course each paper and fabric behaves differently, but the contrast is quite apparent here. if the cotton (on the left) had been silk the photo would be very different. this flax paper held up well.

i've promised wendy that hannah is coming home today. she is eager. have you watched a border collie cover ground? they are not particularly pretty, but in a workmanlike manner they pour over the landscape, small feet staying close to the surface, wasting little energy, intent on the job. the brilliant sunshine this morning promises to push away the chill, this is my kind of day. 

from p.b.i.

this tiny sample is overbeaten flax paper, dried and finger manipulated into a nice curve. when almost completely dry i drew into it with an awl, making marks that really excite me. frank taught us how to coax the drying flax. we can aid and manipulate the forms with our hands as flax dries and shrinks.

this small pouch form is kozo covered with hemlock spruce. the red from the hemlock contrasts with the interior and the lip of pale kozo. though it shrinks it's not the powerhouse that flax is. manipulating drying flax is like working with something "other". it's amazing fiber.

flax again. this vessel has some promise. i will stitch the edges to emphasize the structure.


margaret, a new friend from pbi, has a brand new blog. she featured me (!) on it, and yes, she was sitting at the fun table! go visit her, and watch as she explores blogging and the nature of book art. she tells a wonderful story of discovering pbi through listening to steve miller's book arts pod casts. 

revving up

after my little quiet vacation, i'm revving back up for some events. little ones, like getting the paper mill functioning and experimenting with new knowledge. tonight i talk to ed clark's papermaking class at suny potsdam about my paper and book stuff. they'll get some textiles thrown in for good measure. i just took this piece of heavy linen/cotton (perhaps, carol didn't know for sure) paper out of the dye bath. dyed with bloodroot and black hollyhock, vinegar and water. it's almost edible.

this is a piece of cotton fabric that i used for indigo clean up in tatiana's class. i today wrapped it up with maple leaves that had fallen, and they imparted a tiny bit of ochre to the cloth. this is a nice one, but the paper, oh, my is great.

me moving my camera last night at dusk, making a mess, and liking it. indigo and rust. again.

monday fibers

washing horsehair... i'm cleaning out the paper mill and found my stash of horsehair from my mare mist. so i washed it.

it smelled only a little of horse, but it was so her. silver gray hair from her mane. i will use it in a textile soon, i think. i saved it for the right time. which might be now.

luscious slippery elm bark i harvested for frank, a north country gift. a nice bunch, i found it isn't peeling as well as it did in spring. the summer is so advanced this year that peeling isn't easy and pleasurable like it is in may. but i think he'll have enough to make some paper and see what he thinks. i still haven't tried basswood inner bark. must do! also must harvest milkweed and dogbane. i'm a little weirded out by the ticks and really don't want to come home covered in them so i find myself avoiding tall meadows. silly of me, but there is lyme disease up here now. i'm feeling creepy crawly from harvesting that slippery elm. 

good news: i've had two books accepted in the sequenced fibers show in omaha this october. i am tickled; karen kunc is the juror, an artist i respect deeply. i also talked loooong with aimee who will be teaching in the brand new hanji studio (that she oversaw and helped build) at the morgan conservatory this weekend. and again later with my dear friend kathy. a day of friends, easy paced work, and not too warm summertime freshness. my kind of day!

the here news

an email came: one of the hooligans got her GED. i get tell the world. way to go, case! am i EVER proud of you!

ah, the weirdness of mirrors. this photo was taken by me, mirrored. the word "clothbound" which i love is therefore backwards. sigh. indicative. anyway, i found this shirt via elissa and just had to have one. it's perfect for a cheesy sort and someone who is a textile and book artist. so, here i am. clothbound.

having emailed several post-pbiers we are all in withdrawal to some degree or other. melissa got right on with traveling and teaching, so did emily and tatiana. don't know how they do it!

isn't she just lovely? carol sent me a little piece she wrote about printing. how those letterpress people love white space on pages, something most of us don't think about unless the type design is ugly. anyway, i love this duck mermaid quite foolishly. (for mermaid love is doomed, i know)

these three skeins of lokta were dyed with indigo and kihada (a bark). many of the traditional japanese paper dyeing methods that i learned in tatiana's class are applicable to my dye work, and will help me to begin more paper dyeing with local dyestuffs. i am now trying to sort through my notes, samples, finished pieces...all to better understand the learning from pbi. i am also now able to get my paper mill working, my plumbing woes are over! my friend took it upon himself to save me from the vagaries of scott the plumber. so i have running water and hot water once again in my mill. time to clean!