Holes, holes, holes.

One of the things that I love about textiles is holes and what is revealed underneath them.  A combination of being inspired by the cover technique of this book

Image courtesy of Amazon

and then watching the BBC production of Great Expectations over Christmas and being fascinated by the wonderful Miss Havisham

Image courtesy of  The Telegraph

made me want to have a play and see what I could create.

I'm not sure if it's finished or what I'll do with it, but I do quite like the holes and the fragility of it (although it's ended up pinker than I was expecting) and it does resemble a piece of old fabric from a worn out dress.

Fragile Lace (18cm x 15cm)

The top layer is Crash fabric which I stencilled onto using soft molding paste before blasting it to distress it and make the holes.

The base layer is silk scrim and silk carrier rod strippings and it's held together with beads and french knots.

Detail from above

I'm not sure what this fascination with holes says about me, or where this technique might go, but I think it's something I will return to.

A First for the First

On this first day of a new year I thought I'd show you something that I finished a couple of days ago and am quite proud of - my first ever piece of lacy knitting!  It's not really complicated lace like some very clever people can knit as I've tried that and kept ending up with the wrong number of stitches, so this was a simpler pattern which meant I only went wrong and had to unpick it twice!  It's called a "shawlette" - and the pattern was a free one from from Ravelry.

I had to learn about blocking, cue towels and pins on the bathroom carpet, which really helped to shape it properly.

It's a lovely variegated 4ply yarn and feels wonderfully soft - I shall definitely enjoy wearing it.

I hope you've all had wonderful Christmases and that 2012 brings happiness and fullfillment to you all - it'll soon be Spring!

A Little Bit of Brightness

On my way to turn off the greenhouse heater this morning, I spotted this little beauty in flower.

It's a self sown hellebore seedling that appeared last year but this is the first time it's flowered.

I suspect it's a hybrid and isn't a pure variety but it's a lovely mix of dark pink and lime green,

just perfect to brighten up the dullness of a grey December morning.

What To Do First?

I've come to the conclusion that I need more hours in the day.  I've got so many unfinished projects, so many ideas and a whole list of things to do that I don't actually know where to start (or even what to finish).  I think the inside of my brain must look a little like my workspace looks at the moment - there is no apparent order but I do actually know exactly what's there!

Projects lurking on the table are:

1. Unfinished cord skirt for work (on back of chair)
2. Abandoned pink silk lace knitted shawl (abandoned as the stitches keep falling of the needles and I always seem to have the wrong number!)
3. Green crocheted beaded lacy scarf 
4. Pile of bits for textile piece 
5. Hair scrunchies for work
6. Pressed rose petals that I now can't remember what I'd planned to use them for
7. Seedheads (collected for a good reason at the time)
8. 2 wall tiles, one covered in crackle paste and the other in molding paste and marble dust (don't ask why!)

Also on my "to do list" are:

1. Get on with an interactive fantasy story setting resource for The Treasure Tree (aliens, fairies, mermaids etc)
2. Experiment properly with the watercolours I bought in August
3. Sort out the shelves (hidden from view in the photo) so that I can clear some stuff off the floor

That's a list of 11 without even thinking about Christmas and everything that I should be doing for that - the only thing I've done so far is make the cake which Fran has promised to help me eat!

I really should go and get on with something, but I'm not sure where to start!  Maybe I need a  cup of tea first (and of course I'll need to reclaim my chair before I can do anything).

Am I the only one needing more hours (or less ideas) or do other people suffer from this problem too?  I'd love to know...

Still Hanging On

In amongst the seed heads of autumn

Hydrangea Annabelle

  

and the turning autumn leaves

Euphorbia Fireglow

I found these flowers today who haven't realised that summer is over:

Cosmos Purity

Leucanthemum

Verbena Bonariensis

Rosa Christopher Marlow

Fushia Hawkshead

Some I'm not really surprised at, but a delphinium?  In November?  That's odd isn't it?

Delphinium - can't remember the name!

I wonder what flowers you have flowering at the moment?

Of Mad Women and Bumps!

If you happened to be driving through Elvedon Forest in north Suffolk last Monday and saw a "mad woman" standing in the middle of the road with her camera, then it was probably me!  This avenue of trees is delightful at all stages of the year, and my photo doesn't really do it justice as it was such a gloomy day, but it's like driving through an autumn tunnel.

Elvedon Forest

Now for the bumps - when I visited the 'Out of the Fold' Exhibition in Bury last month I saw a small textile piece that involved shibori felt.  It fascinated me so I've had a go myself.  I dyed some wool prefelt in the microwave (don't worry I have a separate bowl from the food bowls!) and embellished it a little with silk fibres.  Then I made silver foil bobbles, wrapped the fabric round them with elastic bands and felted it in the washing machine.

Then I added threads, french knots and beads.  It's all stitched onto some Indian rag paper.  The whole thing, including the paper is only about 21cm x 15cm (it shrank loads in the machine).  If I'd thought it through I would have done the french knots and beads before I couched it onto the paper, but I didn't, so it was a bit fiddly.

From this angle it looks a bit like an alien landscape!

 
What will I do with it?  No idea, but it was fun making it!

Autumn Jewels

When I was teaching we used to sing a song in assembly that started "Autumn days when the grass is jewelled", and my garden is definitely jewelled at the moment.

My beautiful snake-bark maple tree's leaves are turning glorious colours,

they lie in piles covering the paths and beds,

and sometimes rest for a while on other shrubs,

a tiny respite in their final journey.