Raven and Sparrow

Autumn threads

I am back to camping out on Mike's laptop, separated from Photoshop and my library of pictures. I hope it won't be forever. 

After letting the autumn leaf cloth sit for a while I took it down to our local thread store and pawed through the various choices in embroidery floss. I always enjoy playing with threads, and this time was no exception.  I usually use very fine embroidery ( one or two strands of floss), but this time I was drawn to the heavier perle cottons. I came home with a handfull of lovely colors, but when I began to experiment with them I quickly realized I only needed two. I am going to outline all of the leaves in the wheaty-gold color because it reminds me of the rim of light you see when you stand under a tree and look up through its backlit leaves. Also I think what I didn't  like about my painted leaves was the color variation. This will help pull them all back together. The grey-blue, which looks very close to the decorative flourishes on the dishes will shadow the stems and I hope it won't be too much. I tried a number of types of stitches but fell back upon my tried and true stem stitch...the one my mother taught me in second grade. Now I know what to do, but just need to do it. That will take a while.

 

Further thoughts

After struggling yesterday to articulate what drives my interest in tablesetting a few extra thoughts have made their way to the surface. The hard work to make my tablecloths and then to talk about it makes it seem like I am also calling on others to make an effort too... as if I think fancy tables will lead us to a better world.

No effort is necessary, only a change in awareness. Sometimes if you turn your head slightly you can see what has always been there in an entirely new light. When we realize how much we need each other and the earth our home I think the table will present itself as a natural gathering place, drawing from the traditional past but completely valid in the future too, and everything that follows from that will happen as it will. Elaborate settings are not now and will never be necessary, only the wish to sit down together. Sharing a pizza from the box will always be okay.

When we become conscious of the importance of some activity in our lives though, and experience the nuances of feeling and memory it calls forth we tend to take action to support it. We bring our attention and our efforts to bear, making ceremonies and decorations to mark the occasion. (Think of the sports fans who paint themselves to support their teams.) Those efforts intensify the power of the activity and make it more special for the participants. In my mind, the tablecloths I make are not that important in themselves. Their true essence for me is as outward symbols and channels for my feelings about what I value. For that I will pour myself out but the effort follows from the feeling. In the better world I imagine, beautiful tables will be an expression of love.

 

 

Why and wherefore

I've reached the stage (far from done, but on the track with Lynne's table) where I am looking ahead to the next part of the project, but also reviewing the whole idea. I am trying to set seasonal tables with several very different dish patterns. This offers me a series of design challenges, but it also involves opening my ideas about the table to other people and I have to admit that that is an important part of why I am doing it. I'm trying to escape from my internal rut.

I think we are hungry for the homely associations between each other and the earth that food and the table symbolize.  Eating together offers connection to other people and to the deeper currents of feeling, memory and meaning that is getting scarce. Religion used to provide a template and focal point for our interactions with each other and the world. The liturgical calendar tied the passage of time to deep questions about human purpose and gave us a way to approach the unseen, using elemental symbols like food and fire to empower its ceremonies.  Now the role of religion is fading, but our need for the connections it offered still exists. It seems to me that the table carries ancient and profound links to community, nourishment and love and could be a place for some of these important feelings to rise back into physical expression without the divisiveness that religion now evokes.

Using the seasons as a vehicle reflects the old religious ways, but also expresses our longing to re-connect with the earth and our instinctive, visceral appreciation of its cycles. Eating seasonally is a watchword in the mushrooming food movement and is equally resonant when we set the table to receive the bounty of the moment. When we gather for dinner we have the sustenance we require, the society we crave and a consciousness of our place in the tangled web of all that is. Creating an environment that celebrates all that seems worth the effort.

 

Stitch and stitch

The butterflies are half embroidered. That is, one end has been taken as far as I think it should go and the other half has not been started. It is a good chance to assess how well the embroidery enhances and supports the dyed images. I was expecting to use more navy blue, but it never worked as anything but a shadow line on the butterflies. The french knots may change too. I think they add to the piece but I didn't plan for them and it shows. Maybe more would help.. or fewer. I'll see how they look on the other end.

What about autumn?

With the butterfly runner under embroidery my thoughts have turned to autumn, the only season left for Lynne's table. Actually, I'd been turning ideas over for quite a while when Susan started her leaf project, which finally kicked me into gear. It isn't exactly like hers, of course, but leaves are leaves. As I worked on the butterfly runner the leaf cloth was also taking shape. The pattern is my old Japanese maple leaf pattern slightly shrunk. My plan was/is to wax out the leaves, dip dye the cloth in logwood gray, over dye in indigo to achieve white leaves on a gray blue background, then use fabric paints to introduce warm autumn colors onto the leaves. All of that has happened pretty much like I planned, but I am not happy. The thrill is gone. I'm not sure its going to work. Maybe too much red on the leaves or something. Sigh. I planned to embroider it of course, but....Should I abandon it and think of something else? I am letting it sit for now, hoping a new inspiration will strike.

Wax off

The wax is off the butterflies, but it wasn't easy. Three straight days of simmering and then cooling, and still it was heavy with wax. I was trying to avoid using water glass in the bath because it can really pull the color out with the wax, but my resolve was weakening. Re-reading my wax removal instructions (gathered from several sources) I noticed a method I had never tried before....kerosene. I had shied away from using it because of the smell and worry over soaking my cloth in petroleum.  The instructions said to dissolve soda ash in kerosene and hold the fabric in it overnight before dipping it in water glass. The trouble was, the soda ash would not dissolve. I tried heating the kerosene, but absolutely lost my nerve when it started to get hot. How dumb am I to put kerosene on a burner? I turned it off. The soda ash was clumped solidly in the bottom of the kettle, but I put the fabric in anyway and left. The next morning, no more wax. The smell was daunting, but it washed out after three soap and water scrubs and the value of the colors held really well.

The indigo got a little grayer and the background is much greener overall than I expected. I want to introduce some navy blue, but will have to do it with embroidery.