Where do you get your materials?
Pack ratting, lucky finds on walks, anywhere I can find things other people have discarded. But I especially love it when people collect materials for me–I never know what new project will be inspired by the things I’m given.

How did you come up with this stuff?
My ideas come from the materials themselves. I very rarely plan out an entire project from start to finish. I sit down in front of a pile of materials that I’ve collected and just start playing with the objects until something starts to happen. At that point, I will start to envision what type of form the art will take, whether it’s an entire gown or just an accessory.

How do you put all these things together?
I mostly use a sewing machine, so I make a lot of “plastic fabric” by melting layers of plastic together with a household clothes iron. I also use a wood burner for etching and cutting plastic. I do a lot of melting things. I love using plastic, and it is very easy to cut, melt, bolt together, burn holes in. And it’s very durable and lightweight. And it’s everywhere you look! What I can’t fit into a sewing machine, I use different types of grommets and rivets to attach one piece to another. Wire and duct tape are also staple ingredients my art.

What does your art mean?
Obviously, I support reducing-reusing-recycling, but I’m not quick to get on a soap box about how terrible our pollution problem is. I recycle not only because it’s a good thing to do for the planet, but because I enjoy it and because it’s a challenge. I think about gender roles a lot, and sometimes I end up making a statement about feminism or what it might feel like to be in a different “skin” by wearing something that is normally not accepted in our culture. I have a strong belief in cultural relevance–that is, a person from one background can’t truly understand the workings of another culture. So I suppose that I’m simply tinkering with the associations we make between objects and what they symbolize. And tinkering with gender stereotypes along the way wherever I can.

Will you make something for me?
I’d love to! I often do commissioned works. Jewelry and bags are the easiest because they are more “onesize-fits-all.” Most of the clothes that I make are tailored to fit the measurements of a specific person. And since I collect so many materials, I can often readily make another article of clothing from the same or similar ingredients. Just ask, I love a good challenge!

Lately I’ve needed a little extra *push* to get some things done that I’ve been procrastinating. I’m posting this on my wall for motivation, and wanted to share it just in case it inspires all of you as well.

A young girl in New england wrote down her daily activities in 1775. This is an excerpt from her diary:

• Mended Mother’s riding hood
• Fixed two gowns
• Spun linen
• worked on basket
• Milked the cows
• Spun linen and did 50 knots
• Made a broom of straw
• Spun thread to whiten
• Set a red dye
• Carded two pounds of whole wool
• Spun harness twine
• Scoured the pewter

I mean, Wow. Now I feel lazy…I gotta get to work!

I’ll just have to let you guess what the actual cookies look like…a picture of those may not be appropriate for sensitive audiences. If you know what I mean.

Anyway…
These two photos were taken from approximately the same angle, and as you can see, we have a huge improvement here. Just look at all that floor showing it’s face again! My mom can do wonders with just about anything, and building things is one of her million specialties. (She is also a wonderful seamstress and maker of all things crafty. If she had a blog, I would definitely provide a link to it!)

I’m categorizing this post in the “techniques” section because being organized is a great technique for not losing your sanity. I’ve been very close to insane a few times, rummaging around trying to find something that I know I’ve got around here somewhere!

In order “properly” to critique any given artwork (in a way that is acceptable by any institution assigning four-digit numbers to its classes), you need only remember the acronym “DAIJ.” It stands for “Description, Analysis, Interpretation, Judgment,” or as a clever student in my highschool art class once said, “Dem Apples Is Juicy.”

For an example, I have randomly chosen an artwork to critique by taking a lame, five-second-long quiz, entitled What Famous Work of Art Are You?…the result of which, for me, was Salvador Dali’s “Landscape With Butterflies.” (Okay, so I’m not crazy about butterflies, but the opinion part comes later.)

In order to perform a criticism on any type of art, you simply carry out the 4 steps of DAIJ–remember, it’s “Description, Analysis, Interpretation, Judgment.” Or, if you’re really lazy, you could just use this handy Instant Art Critique Phrase Generator that I came across today. Sure, no one will be the wiser…
But if you really want to be intelligent, follow the darned steps already!

Description
Just as it says, first you describe the facts, including the name of the work, artist, medium, etc. Next, what does the art look like, what is it made of, what objects do you see in it? What textures, shapes, or colors are there? Are the colors vivid and bright, or subdued? Remember, all of these are straight facts, with no opinions added yet.

If you wanna be really thorough, look for and describe each of the “elements” of art: line, shape, form, color, space, texture and value. (I’ve also seen “time” and “mass” included in others’ lists, but they seem superfluous to me at this point.) Be very general at first, then get more specific later on.

The first step goes something like this:
In this painting, I see butterflies (obvious, but necessary). There are two of them, and they are in flight with their wings open. I also see what appears to be the side of a cliff, or a flat wall that has been broken off. It is daytime because the sky is blue, but there is also another drastic light-source coming from the right side, creating harsh shadows. The landscape appears to be outdoors, because of the sky and because of the vast desert in the distance. The colors are very intense, especially the blue and the orange. There is a strong contrast between light and dark, and overall, the lines are very defined. The viewer is either very close in proximity to the butterflies, or the butterflies are rather large. As the viewer, we appear to be standing in front of this scene, looking straight at it, and the overall effect is realism. Etc.

*Note: Through all this, you are not supposed to say whether or not you “like” any of the things…you’re just describing at this point.

Analysis
Next, tell how all the answers from the description you just made are related to each other, ie, how the above facts are organized, compliment one another, or create harmony or distress. This step can often be the most confusing, because it is very similar to the first and can easily overlap. A good suggestion is to think about some of the “principles” of art: movement (or rhythm), variety, proportion, emphasis, balance, contrast.

(I have seen some people list “scale” as an art principle, but again this seems redundant to me–it’s basically a more detailed word for what we mean by “proportion.” The Wikipedia entry on design elements and principles is a valuable resource if you need specific help sorting out and defining all of these terms.)
So put on your detail goggles and dive in…

As I view this piece, my eyes are occasionally led over to the vanishing point on the left (in the distance), but keep coming back to the focal point around the butterflies. This movement happens largely because of the shadow that the rock casts in that direction. The blue of the sky and the orange of the rock are very intense and bright (highly saturated), and their opposition with each other also contributes to the back and forth motion of our eyes as we view the painting. If the blue color was not as saturated, more focus would be on the right side of the painting, it would have too much “weight,” and our eyes would linger there more. As a result, the painting’s composition would be less balanced.

Also, because the butterflies appear to be abnormally large (in comparison to what we assume is a rock face or cliff), we do not have a concrete sense of scale or proportion. This creates an interesting sense of ambiguity, and as a viewer we’re not sure if in fact we are very small, or simply lying close to the ground, or if these are mutated giant butterflies next to a huge cliff. Who can be sure? There aren’t even any pebbles on the ground or other recognizable objects in the paintings to give us clues about scale. The bottom-most butterfly shadow (as well as the butterflies themselves, and the shadow cast by the rock) has a sort of glow around it caused by the lighter orange color surrounding it. This causes the shadow to further “emerge” from the surface it’s supposed to be cast on, making it appear more three-dimensional and adding focus to it. We know that actual, “real-life” shadows do not have this effect, and so it creates a surreal feeling–one of the things Dali’s paintings are most famous for.

Interpretation
Basically, how does the painting make you feel? What does it make you think of? (Don’t say you think the artwork “sucks”…Not yet! That comes in the next step!) What do you think the artist is trying to communicate to you as a viewer? But just because this step is more open-ended than the previous two, and there aren’t really any “right or wrong” answers, in my opinion it’s the most important (and fun) step.

I don’t feel either sad or happy when looking at this…The colors are nice ‘n bright, and butterflies usually make people feel happy, but I mainly feel “curious,” and maybe a bit confused. I’d like to have more details about what’s going on that are not available in the painting. The colors to me feel very cool, and even the oranges and browns have a lot of light “coolness” to them, but the surrounding visuals suggest a desert of some-sort, or somewhere very dry. The butterflies are painted fairly realistically, and are beautiful, but the wings on both are stuck in the same exact position, like they are pinned onto an entomologist’s board. Not to mention their somewhat unrealistic shadows and highlights.

So this is what I think Dali probably did: I think he found some recently dead butterflies and wanted to paint them, like one would paint a still-life with fruit or flowers or something. But to make them less boring than a typical still-life of butterflies pinned to a board, he added an imaginary background to make it into a “landscape” instead. That way, as a viewer, we could have the sense that these creatures are alive and kicking, in their own little colorful world. To me, I think this is a great concept, and a creative way of approaching a painting and making it more intriguing than a plain old still-life.

Of course, I have no idea if this is really what Dali intended people to feel when they viewed his painting. But it’s my interpretation, and I’m entitled to give it during this stage of critique.

Judgment
Okay, so whether or not in the previous step you interpreted the painting as “reminding you of dog crap,” you NOW get to say whether it is a success or a failure in your opinion. Also, do you feel it is original or not original? Would you hang it on your wall at home? Here’s the place for all the gut feelings that you had when you first looked at the artwork.

In general, I think this is an interesting and unique artwork. I enjoy the bright colors and would hang it up in my house if someone gave it to me for my birthday, but I probably wouldn’t buy it myself unless it was on sale. (Dali doesn’t do “bargain basement” prices?–oh well, never mind then.) As an artist myself, I appreciate the technical skill it took to create such a painting, and might be inspired to create a painting similar to this in the future, but perhaps with another subject. I certainly recognize the elements of “surrealism” that Dali’s artworks are famous for, and I think it succeeds, representing this category of art fairly well.

If you’re interested in viewing some other valuable resources about critiquing, may I suggest:
* The Kennedy Center’s “how to” article on Teaching Students to Critique
* Custom-Writing.org’s How to Write an Art Critique
* Keystone Central School District (in PA)has a web page with some very basic instructions for teachers, which are targeted towards younger students. There’s a “process” link to steps/instructions for critique, but there’s also a link to some really cute student art critiques written by some of their sixth-graders. Worth the entertainment if you’ve got an extra minute.

A few days ago I was feeling in a rut, so I started making some bracelets on the fly. It was a lot of fun, just creating something that I would want to wear for myself, and not worrying about what someone else would want to buy. Okay, so I did end up listing them for sale in my Etsy store…

They were a needed distraction, and the results happened to be great. The first started with a pastel green satin-like ribbon and a piece of lavender lace. I sewed the lace to either side of the ribbon (“right” sides facing) and folded the edges under so the stitching didn’t show. I then did some decorative stitching along the sides using silver metallic thread.

I had a piece of wide, black stretch lace that I used for the back of the bracelet. The lavender lace was originally much wider, and had a decorative band along the outer edge. But, when I was applying my iron to melt the web interfacing between the front and back layers, the iron melted some of the mesh from the lace, making a hole (I really need one of those mini craft irons)! I then decided to cut the lace back (by about half the width) and melted the entire new edge with the iron to seal it. In my opinion, the lace was too wide in the first place–so there!

I put a row of silver beads arranged like little tiny flowers to add some interest. I added a shiny lavender button and silver cord for the closure (which makes it relatively adjustable because of the stretch in the silver cord). You can also see more details and photos at the Etsy listing.

The second bracelet started with some really soft cotton scraps that were already on my sewing desk. I was initially planning for this one to be reversible, but I was so caught up in just making something that I didn’t want to slow down to plan ahead. (If I make another one like this, I’ll know what to plan for, and be able to pay attention to the details as I go along.)

I hand-stitched the beading, and added a gold metal disk with some dangling beads, too. The green ribbons on front were stitched with one of my new variegated spools, which has about 5 different colors in each (I love these!)–as you stitch a straight line, the color shifts gradually. If you stitch a more closely-spaced, decorative stitch, the color transitions quickly and you get a more striped effect. Click to see the store listing for this item, including more pics and detailed info.

As with the first bracelet, this one is sturdy (but not bulky) because of several layers of fabric. I ironed on a thin layer of interfacing (nothing to melt this time!) across the back to cover the stitches and create an even softer surface to wear next to your skin. The Velcro closure also allows for a little bit of size adjustment. Elastic would allow for greater adjustment in size, but this one feels so much more comfortable and snug this way, and it’s a little bit easier to get onto your wrist by yourself…without asking one of the kids for help.

I’ll briefly mention my favorite artist and good friend Jennifer Zingg, who creates fabulous art from all different types of gourds… really beautiful work.Definitely not the kind of stuff you’d hang outside on your porch as a birdhouse. (Be on the lookout soon for an entire post dedicated to her work.)

I was a bit worn out (read: “cranky”) after being on my feet all day, but I met several very inspiring artists, and gained renewed interest in teaching myself more about shibori techniques.

Laverne Zabielski, one of the exhibitors at the show, makes wearable art at her Monticello, Ky studio.

Walking through her booth exhibit, it’s hard not to reach out to each of the silky, vibrant fabrics. I spoke to her briefly about her process. I also made googley eyes at a simple yet stunning black gown on display, with its few accents of white, snake skin-like shibori.

In my favorite fashion book I found this particular example of where shibori had been used beautifully on a haute couture piece. The fabric on this gown is actually left a bit “scrunched up” so the effect would be a sort of bounciness and flexibility, emphasizing the lightweight quality of the silk.

Next, some new vocabulary words!

Itajime– a resist dyeing technique in which which cloth is folded into a bundle, held together by clamping with shaped pieces of wood (such as circles) and then dyed.

As with any shibori technique, the results can differ greatly, but I like this visual on the hems of this shirt, a piece by Angelina DeAntonis. The article about her wearables and amazing costumes can be found in Fiberarts Magazine.

Bomaki– I’ve heard it described as a technique which involves using a pole to wrap the scarf tightly, which is then bound with twine or string before applying the dyes. Although, I have seen other descriptions that involve sewing the fabric into a tube that fits the pole tightly, then scrunching it to create pleats. I have reason to believe that either description could qualify as fitting the definitions of bomaki…but when I give it a try, I will be using the second suggested technique.

The bomaki technique is one that I know I’ve seen at some of the textile sites that I visit. One of them is “Making Shibori Now” the blog of Karren K. Brito, who shares photographs of the work from her studio. I really love how these artists are using the fabric three-dimensionally… this is something that I might soon be interested in.

The blog of Shibori Girl is also a very visually rich and informative place to visit.

Preparing and concocting

I took my large pile of plain cotton fabric (scraps from tees and sweats, etc) and prepared them for dyeing. I cut them into manageable pieces and washed them with Synthrapol to get them ready for the colorful chemicals.

After running them through the dryer (no fabric softener, of course), I bound many of the pieces with minty dental floss, folding some like fans, pleating and knotting others.

Tying it all up

I was ready to apply the dye, and the shibori shindig had begun! After a quick chemistry lesson, I used several different ways of applying the dye, including:

• stuffing the fabric into canning jars and pouring in different colors on top,
• using a plastic tub to squirt more concentrated colors throughout some of the larger pieces,
• placing some of the twisted and bound pieces into ziplock bags and applying dyes with a turkey baster

Shibori-tastic!

I got to unveil the results after letting the bundles cure overnight. I must say, I don’t think I could ever tire of witnessing such transformations from plain to spectacular! For those of you who are regulars at this sort of thing: am I right or am I right?

I didn’t really have an expected end-result in mind, other than accomplishing several shades of ocean-blues and greens with a few “bubbles” in there from the bound dots. I trusted that the fabric would succeed in being patterned whichever way it wanted. It would be an extra bonus if it actually “followed my advice.” I’m squealing happy I didn’t drop the F-bomb on it.

As a side note, I’m really excited to be participating in the Paper Quilt Project for March, so I’ll be talking about that soon.

If you have a plain, store-bought pincushion that rolls around all over the place, I highly suggest that you do this to hold your pins where you want them.

I’ve got an old ceramic frog, one of those old-timey sink sponge holders. I’ve simply stuck a store-bought pincushion in his mouth–voila!

Because he’s nice and heavy, I can set him beside my sewing machine and blindly stab the pins toward the cushion while I’m stitching away. He doesn’t move or flinch, and doesn’t roll off my desk. The neglected frog becomes helpful once again (and mighty adorable, I might add).

While considering how to learn about dyeing fabric for my art (Sorry Jo-Ann, but I’m beginning to get tired of the same old stuff!) I came across some *amazing* historical information about Japanese Kimono. Now, I know that human beings back in the good ol’ days used to be a lot more patient when creating great handmade works of art… but the level of persistence required for some of these fabric decorating techniques is near insane!

Even just *thinking* about the processes involved in Batik (removable wax-resist) makes me impatient. Consider one of the techniques the Japanese used, called shibori…the method of shaping fabric and binding it, clamping it, etc. to produce an area that will resist dye. This includes, but is not limited to, one example I found–a sort of tye-dying, which produces tiny, pixel-like patterns.

I’m talking itty-bitty, miniscule even. Not anything like your average, psychedelic high school science project patterns.

In this particular example, the artist wraps little sections of the white silk fabric with thread to prevent the dye from affecting those areas, much like the way modern hippies enjoy using rubber bands. As you can see in this photo of the procedure, there are about 10 little nubs of fabric spanning the width of this person’s thumb! The artist strategically plans out a design using the wrapped areas like staccato marks on the colored background. If you can imagine, each of those little nubs will turn out to be a tiny white circle. You can’t imagine such a thing? Well, here’s another photo,

showing the result of this technique (which I interpret as branches of a tree). An entire piece of cloth surfaced in this way is called kanoko shibori.

I am officially amazed and inspired. Just look at how straight all those rows of circles are…!

Speaking of Batik, I learned today that instead of wax, the Japanese also used a mixture of rice paste and soybeans to resist the dye. In Yuzen dyeing (named after its developer, Miyazaki Yuzen), the artists paint fine lines of the resist paste directly onto the fabric, even applying it by squeezing it out of a cone much like that of our modern pastry bag–you know, the kind that bakeries use to draw your name in frosting on your birthday cake?

For more information, view a few of the websites that I learned from:

Handbook for the appreciation of Japanese Traditional Crafts

Marla Mallett Textiles: Japanese Kimono Design Techniques

Traditional Crafts of Japan