roaming the craft/art prairie

Well I thought I was stitching the linen strips into a bath towel.

But once I’d basted them together, they wanted to be on the wall.

So that’s where they are.

Good choice, linen!

It’s not what I expected of course, but since my other towels began this way, why shouldn’t these? And catching the light is ever a fine way to spend precious hours.

Certainly it is as important and satisfying as drying and exfoliating an old lady’s skin. And we all need a little time to play with the sun, don’t you think?

Beryl certainly casts a fine shadow any time she can.

As do my tools.

Sometimes I wonder if they do it on purpose to entice me along.

Both Beryl and the materials I mean.

Not that it takes much. I am ever ready to be wooed by these friends.

Indeed I’ve spent this week all a-flutter once again, this time for the glory of paper weft (used coffee filters and dress pattern tissue), on a fine hemp warp I’d not used before.¹

I’m not so daft as to have plans for the cloth though. After the linen, who would?

Except now I come to think of it, wouldn’t it be interesting to test the temerity of this paper/hemp combination in a rigorously functional setting? Perhaps this is the swath that is destined to dry my butt!

It would certainly be a bit of a turnabout since the paper shirt I made last spring (which I fully intended to wear), has spent the last year hanging on my wall— delighting me every time I see it (and I see it more often on the wall than I would were it hanging in the closet), but as yet untried as the “regular” garment it was made to be. ²

Ah well. Time will tell as it always does. Which reminds me yet again that for all my practicing³—

—studying—

— experimenting —

—and noticing—

—I have no idea whatsoever where I’m going.

Of course if some of my older tapestries are anything to judge by, I never have known, so should be used to it by now.

I Dunno; hand woven tapestry; 10" x 14"; hand spun silk; natural dyes; ©Sarah C. Swett 2003

Except I’m slowly coming to see that one of the best things about my life on the Craft/Art prairie is that I don’t grow used to it, that I get to spend my days a tiny bit lost, and that the continual surprise of this is a form of good fortune. Indeed it could be that letting this happen—even actively celebrating the confusion of freely roaming this wild, exuberant, yet often rigorously fenced plain—is its own kind of calling.⁴

I dunno. It’s probably too big a question for a cool day in late May. And anyway the answers will always keep changing. So for today I’ll just notice that there is pickable lettuce in the garden (and won’t it be yummy on sourdough toast), and try to remember that if I get too turned around by the things I’ve neglected to plan for—

—Beryl will let me know what’s what.

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1. When I was driving through Nebraska in early April I planned my route to stop at The Brown Sheep Yarn Company, between Mitchell and Scottsbluff. It was amazing to be driving through the gorgeous open prairie and come upon this outwardly unassuming yet iconic anchor of American yarn. There was no shortage of space to walk Beryl, and an entire “seconds” room where I browsed for quite some time. This cone of hemp yarn was the biggest surprise (for a wool company I mean). It’s not as strong as the linen singles I’ve been using (I can break it with my hands), but handled gently, it stood up just fine for this project and has a lovely hand.

2. It’s Only a Paper Shirt

3. Currently crazy for the brand new album Bird Tunes by Miranda Rutter, and am trying to learn some of the pieces on the concertina. Here’s Blackbird Schottische. And yes, as a tune-centric kind of gal, I’m beginning with the fiddle rather than the concertina part, though Rob Harbron, the concertina player in this video, is awesome. If you happen to live in England, check out their concert schedule in case you have a mind do something crazy spontaneous and get to one of the gigs this week.

4. Not that I want to go too deeply into the old Art/Craft debate, but I do know I’ve snagged many a sweater and jacket by slipping through the barbed wire fences that bifurcate this wide open land— fences that can be fiercely defended on both sides. And while I know that some belong in one place/category or another (and that categories can often be very helpful), I also believe wildly and madly in one’s right to choose to be both, if that is who you are and where you need to explore.

As to the notion of Calling—for that I’ll refer you to the work of the marvelous Sharon Blackie