Raven and Sparrow

The Sabbath

 
     I usually find Ezra Klein's podcasts for the New York Times interesting, but every now and then he talks about something that really draws me in. The recent one with Judith Shulevitz about the Sabbath prompted me to purchase her book The Sabbath World and the book that they referred to many times, The Sabbath by Abraham Joshua Heschel. I read Heschel in a couple of hours and am halfway through Shulevitz. On the podcast Ezra worries about the creeping hold technology is exerting on our lives and wonders if returning to the old "day of rest" practiced by the Jews forever and many Christian sects as well (remember the blue laws?) would help us re-assert our humanity in the face of ever the escalating badgering of phones, computers, texts, emails, and social media and the demands of commerce. Taking a day off from technology and endless striving might be a way for us all to remember that we are not just what we produce and give us time to bolster connections with the people we care most about. That was the purpose of the original Jewish Sabbath...one day out of seven that was dedicated to being rather than doing. This reminds me of the current emphasis on mindfulness and presence in the moment. It seems like working out the balance between one's interior life and the demands of the world is an ancient problem. Reading these books about the Sabbath have prompted me to think about the purposes of religion and the ways that people have tried to incorporate sacredness into their lives. There are a lot threads to pull here and I feel like I have just begun.

     So many of the descriptions of Jewish Shabbat....the preparation, the attention to beauty, the abrupt cut-off to all fussing when the time has come, the gathering, the meal, the feeling of complete immersion in the experience of community....remind me of throwing a dinner party. I do work hard to prepare most of the food ahead of time and of course I always try to make the setting as beautiful as I can, but once everyone has arrived (I don't have a sunset cut-off but it is usually about that time of day) all cleaning, cooking and tweaking stops and the event...the gathering...becomes the essential focus. The emphasis shifts from the ratcheting pressure to provide things (food, clean bathroom, pretty table) to the interaction between people and the dynamics of the group. No matter how good the food is a party is never successful unless the people around the table are joining together wholeheartedly. Their interactions can never be controlled but outside interruptions (checking cell-phones) can definitely de-rail the flow of the party. Sitting face to face around a table makes it possible to tune-in completely to your companions and I think this interaction is holy. Merriam Webster defines holy as: exalted or worthy of complete devotion.  Making space and taking time for extended interpersonal exchange is the kernel of holiness that links a secular dinner gathering with historical religious practice. Setting a whole day aside for personal concerns, including sitting down for lengthy meals, can seem impossible for many of us, nor do we wish anymore to be required to conform to religious requirements, but in our ever more secularized world some of the essential connections are being lost. It seems to me that the dinner table can step in to hold some of the essence the Sabbath used to offer as we rush into our future.

Dream returns

The tide of love has washed across the world and returned, collecting and focusing bits of imagination, design skill and artistic execution into something larger than themselves. Mo Orkiszewski (itscrowtime.wordpress.com) from Sydney Australia orchestrated this wave, sending strips of satin cut from an old wedding dress to fiber artists in Australia, North America and Europe, bidding them to embellish the fabric in their own ways upon the theme "I dream of world where love is the answer". Slowly the pennants drifted back to her across the oceans, changed by the efforts of the people into whose hands they had been entrusted. Mo added her own extensive skills to the gathering and amalgamation of these highly varied pieces (including a beautiful selection of tiny talismans) and produced a soaring installation that evoked a proud ship under sail, flying the flags of love. I am so grateful to have been included in this project and so touched by the exquisite individual expressions of a universal principle gathered into a clarion impossible to ignore. 

Now, the crescendo has been reached, and the tide is receding. The installation is disassembled and the pieces are wafting back across land and sea to the hands that took them from scrap to statement. Mine came home yesterday, wrapped in clouds of tulle and accompanied by bits of branch still bearing stars from the larger piece. It has changed during its absence, as travel changes us all, and carries the vibrations of its experience which has enhanced its meaning a thousandfold. Thank you Mo. Thank you everyone.

The dream takes final form

Its funny how every project dictates its wishes as it comes into form. From the start I thought Mo's pennant needed a backing, but I wasn't sure just what kind. I liked the raw edge of the satin scrap and wanted to preserve it so I carefully tacked it down to a piece of white linen with a finished hem. That looked terrible. Next I basted it to a dark blue open weave linen on which I embroidered the words "I dream of a world where love is the answer", trimming it exactly to the contours of the satin. The embroidery made it lumpy so I took it off. Still awkward. Usually I think the texture of stitching adds depth and subtlety but on this satin every single one showed, no matter how small. It interfered with the image and made the pennant look clumsy. I finally just applied a small strip of the dark blue stiff linen to the top and bottom to help it hang well. Otherwise, no backing in the end after all. At least my efforts convinced me that it works best as it is.

On the front, I embroidered around the moon, the bird and the fish, which sharpened them without drawing too much attention to the stitching. I used transparent fabric paint to emphasize the color of the tree, the purple hearts at the bottom and the background moons, again trying to use a light hand. I wanted to keep the essential blue and whiteness of the piece intact, with color as a secondary flourish. The blunt bottom edge bugged me so I added fringe which I think helps to make it look more finished. I also added ties to the top, which can be used to hang the pennant or left to dangle as they are, depending on what works best for Mo's final installation.

I'm a little sad to see it done but feel so honored to have been asked to contribute to Mo's project. I do dream of world where love is the answer.

 

No more wax

Once I got done dipping Mo's pennant in indigo (I darkened the top and the bottom) I was very impatient to get the wax off and see what happened underneath. Wax removal is a royal pain, but now its out and we can all have a look. Overall, I'm pleased. The wax did allow a little blue to penetrate on the moon and the fish, but not as much as I feared. The white elements stand out well and the colors on the leaves and the purple hearts can now be seen. There is a difference between the leaves of the "tree" and the "ground" but not as clear as I was hoping. I am thinking of hitting the leaves with a little fabric paint, and maybe bring up the purple hearts on the bottom too. Standing back from the whole thing now I think the bird is a little clumsy compared to the fish and the moon and I am wondering if I can improve it with embroidery. Must experiment. I am also planning a backing and am thinking of how that might work.

Blue moon

After painting inside most of the heart shapes on Mo's pennant with either yellow (myrobalan and weld) or pink (cochineal) I dipped it once into what I thought would be a light pot of indigo very quickly. My goal was to cast a light blue over all and change the yellows to green and the pink to purple. Since the cloth is so small I thought it would be more economical to use my smallest kettle, but that threw all of my accustomed proportions out the window. I ended up with a darker blue than I wanted, even after a very short dip. I had to go back with the paintbrush and try to introduce more yellow and pink on top of the blue to get what I wanted, but this time the wax outlines did not hold the dye inside the shapes and color leaked out around them. Sigh.

Having re-introduced color where I wanted it I let the pennant dry and then waxed over the painted hearts (and the light blue ones too) to keep them that color after further dipping.

My little pot of indigo was impossible to keep accurately reduced so I started over using my usual kettle for the second dip. I noticed after the first dip that the pennant fabric seemed stiff so in this kettle I decided to add hide glue, remembering that I am dealing (quite unusually for me) with protein fibers rather than cellulose. Hide glue is supposed to protect silk and wool from the alkalinity of the indigo pot. I suppose it worked for that but I also found that it protected the wax! This is a big revelation for me, because usually two long dips in indigo renders the wax on fabric flaky and scrofulous. I wanted to go dark with the pennant and dipped over and over to get it that way, but the wax never broke. It did take up some dye itself in some places like the face of the moon. We'll see if that penetrates to the fabric when I remove the wax. I might have a blue moon. 

The indigo clung darkly wherever the cloth had been pierced or snagged resulting in sort of random dark patches. That was a surprise, but nothing can be done about it now. The purple I added to the heavens above the moon pretty much disappeared. I don't think I will try to put it back. I am trying to decide if what I have is okay or if I want it to be darker. Last call for indigo! Next...wax removal.

Adding color

Yesterday I finished the waxing on Mo's pennant and sprayed it with aluminum acetate (I mordanted with alum sulfate before I started any of this) and let it soak in overnight. Then I mixed two yellows (weld and myrobalan) and one red (cochineal) and carefully painted the hearts and the sky behind the moon. The wax kept the color from running out of the lines so I didn't use any thickening. The plan is to dip the whole pennant into a light bath of indigo to turn the yellows into green and the red into purple, but first I want to let these colors sit for a while to bite as thoroughly as they can. Onward.

Fine lines in runny wax

Time has been dragging its feet, mostly, but I finally got going on Mo's pennant. I have been worried about waxing my design on it because of the fineness of the lines. My smallest tjanting tool was just too big and I knew I would make a mess of it. Then I remembered the tiny brass tjanting I bought years ago for I don't know what. I think I was going to use it for ink, but I never did. I tried it out and found that it made a good line, but that it was hard to keep the wax hot enough because the well is so small. I turned up the temperature of the wax bath and plunged in. The handle got really hot so I had to wrap it in tape and wear a glove, but it worked in the end. 

I dream of a world.......

 

Mo Orkiszewski from Sydney Australia (itscrowtime.wordpress.com) sent me a pennant cut from an old wedding gown. She plans to use it, and over forty others, in an art installation next year. The theme of the piece is "I Dream of a World Where Love is the Answer". I was so surprised and pleased to be included in her work, which is routinely beautiful. 

So, what to do? I started by carrying my scrap around, fingering it. The dense satin feels so good to touch. (It reminds me of the heavy ribbon binding on one of my childhood blankets. I fell asleep every night rubbing my fingers over the wrinkles....a purely tactile pleasure.) However, I couldn't tell what the fabric was made of and that matters a lot to my usual ways of working. Mo described the wedding dress as vintage...over sixty years old. That works out to 1957, which is before polyester took over the world, but maybe "sixty" was just a ballpark thing and I need natural fibers for my natural dyes. Determining the fiber content of mystery fabric can supposedly be done by burning it and examining the ash, so I cut off a little bit off the bottom and set it on fire. The ash was black and crumbly, not melted beads of plastic, so I think it is natural, not synthetic, but I couldn't tell what kind of natural. 

I was at least encouraged to go ahead with plans for waxing and dyeing with natural dyes. I had been thinking of what images to use and suddenly came up with this cartoon. I'm still not sure if I will be able to wax this accurately, or if the dyes will take well. but as of this moment, this is my dream of a world where love is the answer. Yeah, I know....literally.