Friday, July 29, 2011

Holy July!

How did it happen? May, now July.

I haven't hooked more than an inch since the finger break, but I did graduate from Hamline University's MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults program. Exciting!


Of course Steve and I had to play dress-up. Only our garb is far more expensive than Maggie's little princess dresses. Which, by the way, she will soon be sharing with a little sister!

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

A new skill - Buddy Taping!

It sounds like some odd team-building exercise, doesn't it? I can imagine a group of fourth graders and a roll of duct tape ... or, maybe I'd rather not imagine that.

Really, it involves taping an injured finger to a healthy finger to stabilize the hurt one. In fact, here's a picture! Of my very own hand. And no, the purple was not added in photoshop. It got a little tricky since two fingers are broken and not just one.


I've known for a while my dog, Oscar Wild, was never socialized. He doesn't get on well with other dogs. Not a problem given where we live except when there are dogs roaming free. Not common, though, since we only have a couple of neighbors in our square mile. Yesterday I walked the Cannonsburg biking/ski trail and, tired after about three miles, was approaching my driveway when ... Yes, two strange dogs in the road. I'm not sure if Oscar wants to eat strange dogs or just be buddies. Whatever the case, he wanted at those two in a bad way. So bad that while I was going for a better grip on the leash, he bolted. My fingers? History. 

Another angle: 

I had to Google "Buddy Taping." Thank heavens for YouTube. You can find anything on YouTube. There are even videos on rug hooking! Which is something I might not be doing for a while, given my poor digits.

And my not-so-best Buddy ...


Hard to be upset with that face.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

A Little on the Overwhelmed Side

I visited a new (to me) hooking group last Monday, and while it was wonderful, full of artists and beautiful rugs, I felt the bar raising up, up, and away. There are Real hooking artists there! Like Brenda. Suddenly my rug looked like a small, shriveled raisin in a field of succulent grapes.

Not that I don't like raisins. I do. But there's a big difference between a prune and a plum, for example. One my children will eat. One they think is gross, for Babies and Old People with Regularity Issues.

Speaking of my kids, this is the Spring Portrait for little Baz. No joke. They truly expect me to pay money for this? I'm in the wrong biz - stock photography vs. school pictures. I now know where the money is.



I'll just keep plugging away, I suppose. Maybe my rug won't resemble the Frankenstein I fear. Maybe? Or perhaps this is opportunity to finish my last-ever packet for Hamline's Master of Fine Arts in Writing for Children and Young Adults. For some reason I've been putting it off. Can't imagine why ...

Oh, and speaking of the Universe (I was, wasn't I?), it heard.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

RUMInations

Thirteenth century ecstatic poet, Jelaluddin Rumi, has been part of my daily literary meal of late. Sandwiched in time between St. Francis of Assisi and Meister Eckhart, Rumi's mysticism is stunningly present, green and alive. Qualities I strive to live: presence, awareness of all that lives around me.

For example, today the undergrowth in the forest went from swollen gray sticks to pale green and vibrant crimson, with sprinklings of white and yellow. What seemed dead yesterday was only dormant. A month or so ago I noticed the fragile stems of apple trees at the orchard had plumped and reddened. I couldn't see it when I looked straight on, but against the backdrop of snow, as I walked past, the trees were obviously changing, awakening.

As I've planned this rug, I've kept lines of a Rumi poem in my mind:

Lord, the air smells good today,
straight from the mysteries
within the inner courts of God.
A grace like new clothes thrown
across the garden, free medicine for everybody.
The trees in their prayer, the birds in praise,
the first blue violets kneeling.
Whatever came from Being is caught up in being, drunkenly
forgetting the way back.

I want to be "caught up in being", and that is one grace of hooking. I cannot hook fast, I cannot hook without looking at the world, I cannot hook without feeling the color of each and every strip of wool as it slips between my fingers.

Some of my initial sketches and color plans including the very first where I copied the Rumi poem from a source now unremembered:



And a warm thank you to Mary Logue for suggesting I might find Rumi inspiring. As always, she was right.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Rug to Date

Progress is slow. From a few weeks ago:


From today (neither show a tree far on the right that I did first):


Funkify Your Wool

I'm easily bored so the excitement of that Great Goodwill Find of a Hideous Blazing Purple jacket soon wears off. I start to wonder what that purple would do to a light brown, or whether I need a hazy blue-white for snow or sky or what that Blue Blazer would do to white slacks, just because it might be cool and I don't have anything better to do. I stayed in this wondering phase for quite some time.

But after some Googling and reading and wondering and worrying, I did it. I took my wool and got funky. Which shouldn't be a surprise since I tie-dyed all my diapers when expecting baby #3 (I'd run out of nesting projects by then). Oh, I miss those cloth-diapering days! (No, no, not really. Universe, you didn't hear me say that.)

Some might call this procedure "Marrying" colors, though it isn't official marrying because the wool ends up mottled and not one, consistent color. Not that my married wool is one, consistent color either, but this is rather more purposely inconsistent. So, on to the technique!

First step, pick your wool.


Here I have a white, a bright blue, a textured green/aqua. And a rotten banana. Yummy.

Next twist, tie, marble, squish, etc. The more folds, the more odd your final look. Tie with strips of dark wool for an interesting effect or put a strip or two in the middle of a knot, twist, tie, whatnot and see what happens!


Put the wool in water, set it on the stove, turn on the burner, bring it to a low simmer. Don't boil it! Ok? You're not cooking it, you're heating it.


Add a healthy squirt of dish soap. Add it after you add the water if you want to avoid loads of suds. Or before water if you like to play with suds (like me, above).


Heat it for a while. I set the timer for 10 minutes, come check, if it's not how I want it, I set it for another 10 minutes, etc. Some wool takes a while to release its dye. Some doesn't hardly release it at all. Some wool takes on dye quickly, other wool doesn't. A few things to keep in mind: Thick, soft, squishy wools generally have more fibers and more dye. A small bit of that bright blue might be enough to turn the ball of white a brighter blue than I'd like.

Check it often and experiment with adding the lighter colors. The later added, the less dye they take on and the lighter they will remain. When you've achieved a color you like, add vinegar. A good amount.


I'll often turn the heat off here and let the pot cool for a few hours or overnight. Sometimes I'll cook it another 20 minutes or so. Either way, leave the wool in the vinegar for some time to let the acid do what it needs to do to set the dyes back in the fabrics.

Finally, drain and rinse. If your fabric is still hot, rinse in hot water. Match the rinse temp to the temp of the wool.


And unwrap, untie, untangle your wool to see what amazingly varied and surprising colors you've created!


I like to toss mine in the dryer with a towel, impatient gal that I am.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Up To Date

Since this is supposed to chronicle my hooking projects, I have a bit of catching up to do. After the trivet and such, I started a rug (a real rug!). It will someday be just the right size for the hearth in the living room, assuming we're still living here when I finish, assuming I finish, assuming I don't spill coffee on it (again).

So. Photos of the early stages:



I'm using recycled wool on monk's cloth, #8 strips. Finished size will be (assuming ...) somewhere around 44" x 18".