we make the paper

Yesterday I taught my second art lesson at the park and rec sponsored summer camp. Since our goal is to have a handmade book by the end of our six weeks together, and we've already covered paste paper, I decided we should move on to papermaking.

I made everything from the moulds and deckles to the pulp itself for this workshop. I didn't, however, have to do everything alone. My cousin Sarah came over to assist me with preparation and with the workshop itself. We spent the entire morning running blender load after blender load of pulp. By the time we were finished, we had beaten a pound and a half of dry fiber, and we had one tired blender.

After last week's chaotic whirlwind of a lesson, I expected this week to be similar and prepared myself for an onslaught of chatty kids and flying pulp. What I got instead was a group of kids quietly focused on the task of making paper. We spent the entire session quietly (relative to last week) pulling sheets and talking about the history of and approaches to making paper.

We pulled sheets of plain pulp, and then the girls wanted to get a little artistic, so we began adding hydrangea flowers into the pulp. They loved the effect so much that they began plucking flowers from the vat and pressing them into the surface of their newly formed sheets. Let me tell you, tween girls are very particular about positioning flowers on handmade paper. Some of them labored over their creations until the sheet was almost too dry to successfully couch. Fortunately, however, after the first two sheets, we had no problems with couching at all.


Even cleanup was painless. Some of my students, as they bent over the pulp container making pulp balls, told me they were having fun. I couldn't have asked for a more enthusiastic group.



This week I also taught a paste paper workshop for autistic summer campers. Unfortunately, I don't have any photos of their beautiful work, but they had so much fun that next week I'll be returning to teach them some single sheet book structures. We'll be transforming their paste papers into some sweet little codex-style booklets, and if I'm brave enough, we might even attempt a flexagon.

beer & wool

I opted out of waiting tables tonight in favor of an entire day off, something I haven't had in a while. To celebrate my day off, I decided it was about time to visit the lovely Connecticut Yarn and Wool Company and partake in some fill-a-bag fun. Ahem, I mean, get that hank of yarn my little sister requested.

As always, the porch was furnished with several large storage tubs filled with yarns. I managed to pick up ten hanks of Andy's Merino (which are destined to become felted Christmas stockings for the family), five hanks of three-ply merino (three of which I will use to knit a tomten jacket), and two and a half hanks of cotton blossom, which I'll be using to make a set of face cloths for my new bathroom.

I could have happily returned home with just my yarn, but after having a pleasant lunch with my little brother at the Paperback, we decided to check out the new liquor store down the street. It was a classy shop, with more microbrews than I've seen in a long time. Almost immediately, I spotted a half-gallon jug of Opa Opa Brewery rasberry wheat beer, and I had to get it. Not only is the jug an amazing container, but the brewery is pretty local (Southampton, MA). I had a glass while making dinner tonight, and I really like it. It's got a crisp flavor, and the raspberry adds just a bit of sweetness. Once I've finished drinking all the delicious brew, I'll save the jug to store homemade laundry detergent.

The best thing about today's outing is that I got to spoil myself and count it as work completed towards my 101 in 1001. I am so on top of it (or at least capable of deluding myself into thinking I am).

neverending socks

Approximately one year ago, I purchased a skein of SWTC's tofutsies from a yarn shop in New Haven. It languished in my yarn stash until this past Febraury, when I acquired Favorite Socks, and decided it was time for me to get in some quality sock knitting. I started at a swift pace; one day after casting on for the first sock, I was nearly ready to begin the heel. However, I did not continue at this speed for very long. In fact, I slacked off so much that I didn't even finish sock number one until the end of May. And now, as the middle of July approaches, I am finally almost finished.

I don't know why it's taken me so long to complete this project; they've been fun to knit, the lace pattern is easy to memorize, and I love my harmony wood dpns. It might have something to do with how splitty this yarn is. I've had to practice extra vigilance while knitting in order to avoid the dreaded errant loops (and there are still a couple here and there), and I think I might be over knitting one sock and then the other. This last realization pains me. At the beginning of this year, I shelled out for a whole set of harmony dpns, and it would be such a shame to let them languish in their plastic sleeve. However, in the interest of actually finishing my sock projects, they might enter into an early semi-retirement. That is, as soon as I finish the baudelaires I've recntly started (I just couldn't wait a few more days to cast on!)

Despite my slow sock knitting pace, I have been getting other things done. Today was my first day of teaching book arts to summer camp kids. We made paste paper, and they loved it, depsite the fact that we ran out of paste in a record 45 minutes. I made six times the original recipe, and was convinced I'd be taking home extra, but oh, no. The kids were paste-happy. It probably didn't help that one of them was eating it because, as he told me, "It tastes really good!" Sure, cooked wheat starch is my idea of a tasty snack, too.

And for all you ravelers, my last book, Lace Stories, is featured in the latest edition of This Week in Ravelry. (Hello new ravelry visitors!)
In a bit, I'll post a copy of the story for the uninitiated to read.

finally! I've finished something important!

That's right, I do sometimes get around to completing important tasks, like beginning to work on enclosures for Lace Stories. I'd been waiting for some commercial yarn and walnut hulls with which to dye it before beginning the last (and probably longest) phase of binding my book. But the other day, it occurred to me that I had just the right handspun.



A couple of months ago, I ordered several pounds of brown sheep mill ends, and the browns that they send me were a lovely color. I spun some up and was dismayed with how scratchy the stuff was, and dismissed it. Sure, this yarn isn't great for garments, but books don't itch! And thus, Lace Stories (um, one of them) is no longer naked.



I've also finally completed some of the title plaquettes. I'm happy with finished product; I've gotten pretty good at hand-embroidering my writing. In fact, I'm a little freaked out by the fact that the embroidery looks like my handwriting. I did it freehand, after all. I'm sure that hands have a memory for how they draft letters, but I'm surprised by how much it affects my stitching. The movements, after all, seem pretty different.

I think the enclosure is a great compliment to the book. Here they are, finally united!

my love affair with secret belgians

I've found a new book structure to love. And oh do I love it. It's based on an unusual sixteenth-century binding that Hedi Kyle (a book arts goddess on all accounts) is said to have rediscovered.

I'm glad she did, because there's something about this structure that elevates it from utilitarian object to functional art. I think it's got to do with how the covers and spine piece enclose the textblock, and the straight lines and angles that march from the book's tail to head.

The secret belgian model that drove me to make my own belongs to Margaret Couch Cogswell, who's currently and artist in residence at the Penland School of Craft. She was kind enough to let me photocopy her binding instructions, which originate from a Paper Book Intensive workshop that Emily Martin taught years ago. I'm amazed that I hadn't seen a secret belgian until my trip to penland; it's such and engaging structure. Or maybe my taste in handbound books is a little wonky. Whatever the case, I'll be making a lot of secret belgians in the coming weeks.

the spinning and the knitting

Clearly my fiber obsession has hijacked the blog, but it's summer, and I need to order more supplies. Being all out of book cloth and paper means that I can't really do much anyhow. So until I place an order on monday, I'm savoring the fiber.

It's been a few months now since I started spinning, and although I already have a lot of finished yarn, I've been reluctant to knit with any of it. Mostly, all I want to do is pet and squish my handspun stash and then spin some more to ensure that all those hanks don't get lonely. But last week, I decided it was time to test out the goods. I've been anxious to knit a baby surprise jacket, and the superwash merino I spun from a gifted roving seemed perfect. My decision to use size 7 needles was a little arbitrary; the chosen yarn was not a consistent weight. nevertheless, I loved knitting my own handspun.



Once I managed to complete a few garter ridges, I just wanted to knit and watch as my sweater grew. The handspun really was a pleasing match for this garment. Sadly, I was about 65 yards short of having enough yarn, so I improvised with some chocolatey-brown silky tweed that I'd been saving for a sweater project. It's rustic look made it a great compliment to the handspun.



Now I just need to finish seaming, weave in ends, and find exactly the right buttons.

I also finished a few new hanks of handspun, including a sport weight that I'm very proud of.



I love the rustic look of this yarn, as well as it's colors. This was my first attempt at handpainting and then steaming my roving instead of kettle dyeing, and it turned out beautifully.

alpacas among us

On Tuesday my sister and I made a grueling trek to the alpaca farm closest to my parents' home. We had to traverse steep hills, cross rivers, and make countless left-hand turns, but after three miles of traveling the rough terrain that is route 145, we finally made it. Our destination did not look like an Alpaca farm from the front; it was a large cape cod with picture windows overlooking a small gravel driveway and neatly trimmed patch of front lawn. I was convinced we had parked in some unsuspecting person's driveway, so we sat in the car for a few minutes, debating whether we should knock on the door or turn around and spare ourselves from an embarrassing encounter with a non-alpaca farmer.
We did decide to get out of the car, and as we neared the front door, I could see a few alpaca, freshly shorn, grazing in the back yard. This was indeed Saltaire Alpacas. After Pattey's (the farm's owner) son let us in the front door, we waited in a living room full of fiber (and an ashford traditional spinning wheel just like the one I have at home) until Pattey emerged to take us on our tour.
Saltaire Alpacas is not a huge farm, in fact, it's more of a very large backyard that's been converted to small pastures with a few shelters. Despite it's small appearance, the alpaca had plenty of room to frolic, graze, and do whatever it is that alpaca love to do. We met a number of the herd ... rather, they deigned to sniff at us occasionally. But to offset the adults' standoffishness, we did have a close encounter with the season's first cria, a little apricot-white male who had not yet received his name.
After visiting with the herd, we did, in a sense get to pet them. Once inside the house, Pattey showed her collection of yarns spun from her herd, rovings, and my favorite, entire alpaca blankets stuffed into giant plastic bags. After inspecting every animal's fleece, and talking to Pattey about what makes a good spinning fiber, I chose two blankets to take home (a gift from my sister, who will be getting a lot of handspun as a thank-you!).




The first belongs to Thel, a true black and one of the Saltaire herdsires. His coat was so beautifully crimpy and lush that I had to take it home with me. The other blanket belongs to AJ. It's soft, soft, soft, and is a lovely light fawn color. My sister bought herself a skein of handspun, and in addition to our purchases, Pattey gave us a bag of second cuts from one of her cria and some roving from Erin, a fawn alpaca.
I spun up a skein from Erin's roving as soon as I got home, and I was in love. The roving is really well-prepared (it shed virtually nothing on my leg as I spun), and there's a bit of a reddish tinge to her coat that adds depth to the finished yarn.
Our field trip has inspired me to make the most of my time in the northeast, and visit as many fiber destinations as possible. My next stop will be the twist of fate spinnery, in Portland, CT. And this time I'll be dragging my mom along for company!