Lesson 2 of the Cloth to Cloth class involves creating an anchored weaving. Three methods were given and I choice to focus on the third one in which you cut slits into the base fabric to form the strips that you can then weave into. Very simple and eliminates one layer of fabric. So this first photo has been titled "WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" We have here GAREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!!!!!!!, gold and rust. I had this idea of summer transitioning into autumn. Only thing, nature isn't quite so garish.
So after I picked myself up off the floor from rolling around in laughter, I decided that I liked the rust colored fabric which is an old silk scarf that I painted awhile back. I didn't like the way it turned out, so I repainted it with setacolor paints and did some sunprinting with maple leaves. This fabric led to the tan fabric I had rusted last year and the fabric with the writing on it which is a cotton with the words of a Mary Oliver poem, The Journey, handwritten on it. I colored it with burnt umber and indigo blue watercolor paints which then led to the dark blue leaf print and trim.
Here's what I ended up with. I kind of forgot the part of the lesson about using a fairly sturdy fabric for the base. The rust colored fabric is a habotai silk which is very flimsy, but with some TLC I was able to work with it. I know I am jumping ahead with embellishment, but I so rarely have an opportunity to follow through on all the ideas rolling around in my head, I just decided to go with it.
And here is the Mary Oliver poem.
The Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ancles,
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.