natural disasters and thank you

the beeswax book was in this shape,

more or less,

yesterday morning.

 the mail came

and with it paperwork pertaining to retirement

so i had forms to fill out and

financial people to speak to on the phone.

the iphone works best,

when it does work, that is,

on my screen porch.

where trace willan's xanthorrhoea resin in solution lives.

in a jar with a not very tight lid.

it must have eased over

by preoccupied me

all 12 ounces of it.

and i didn't notice until i saw evidence

 after i used up all the spillage

to decorate the book

there was a huge clean-up,

using the only solvent i had that worked

nail polish remover. 

 they went out into the sun to air.

 and as the book cover dried

it morphed into something else altogether

 inside pages got a bit of mark making

thanks to 

the bolyard xanthorrhoea spirits spill

 aromatic is too nice a word.

 this morning

 i will try to sew the signatures to tapes

and lace in the tapes.

 it has a wonderful surface now

and it's 

 no longer sticky!

(sorry about the darkness, 

i was too excited to go noodle around in iphoto)

i don't recommend bookmaking 

by chance

but i do recommend

making hay while the sun shines.

thank you trace!

ink and beeswax

black raspberry sludge

 i cooked and cooked those raspberries

low heat, many hours, added vinegar

and now there's a pint of ink

fun work!

 there are little black raspberry marks around the place

and outside

 only a few juicy ones left.

many dried ones on the canes

since it was such a generous year,

the birds had plenty.

and the coyotes,

who leave their scat in insulting spots

(for fun, they are coyotes)

are lush with seeds.

 i had a huge amount of "dirty" beeswax to deal with

after the cupboard, 

honeycomb 

and ant 

disaster.

so in the spirit of making hay

 i decided to stack the cloth that was covered in "dirty wax"

maybe you can see how thick it was

(there were thick "drips" as well)

to make a sandwich and transfer wax 

and "dirt"

 to a piece of case paper

i'd readied for a book

the stack included three pieces of abaca 

i'd made long ago

that had pigment issues.

 ok, so it was like this:

brown paper, white cotton pillowcase

abaca

case paper

beeswaxed cotton cloth-the straining cloth 

(the other half of the pillowcase)

 cotton cloth

 brown paper...

anyway a BIG sandwich

got ironed.

 a lot.

 as the thick wax dispersed into the various layers

as did the "dirt".

 i reduced the sandwich

 to this

 and this

and this and

 refolded the case

 used the various parts for signatures

 and folded it back.

  there was way too much bulk.

i cut much of the stationer's binding away

 and was left

 with a rather neat little cover

 i will sew it up today

 and make the final

rather sticky

beeswax and ant 

book.

canvas

pennsylvania carpenter's apron.

there's something really appealing

about text on canvas.

waiting summer

paper arc of safety

the beautiful north country wasn't really waiting for me,

though it seemed like it was.

instead, it was just doing what it does so well,

being beautiful.

being, now, summer.

deep in july and hot and dry and growing.

i went for a visit to toronto last week.

to see, amongst other things,

the magic feather cloth

friends wendy, hiroko, and dorothy;

 gifts were exchanged,

gratitude.

even joy, perhaps?

 these amazing women came 

to have a most entertaining lunch at the gardiner museum

and rich conversation after.

to be IN the city

and IN refuge IN the city.

my shifu thinking met up with wood worked beautifully

(below in some iphone play)

 there was also a treat for me

the magic feather cloth

briefly installed

by val, 

who left me instructions:

 i didn't mess with the cave,

only 

touched the cloth.

 followed a featherstone path

 to find the grief book 

(velma's book of grief

my shifu and handmade paper book).

doing its job.

 there were many instructions to attend to

and i have a new last name.

and i am waiting

for 

a 

poem.

(val loves india, too!)

sometimes wendy's kids write poems,

(my grampians texture students remember me reading one to them)

val wrote,

thank you val, 

i love reading your words!

these words

 carried me to the textile museum

to see the works of hands

and i had to sit at this old leclerc

and would have wound it forward, gone to work weaving,

but the yarn was tight 

woven right up to the beater

kids delighted, but instead i talked about how this one was prepared

for patterning.

my feet played treadle dancing and my hands

wanted to wind warp formard.

these mirror pieces came home with me.

from sartaj's shop kinna sohna

and this scarf

of a million running stitches.

and now, back home.

all is well.

the soil is pretty dry, the birds still singing most babies fledged.

there was a medium sized four-legged

out last night at the new place.

bobcat? coyote? fox?

i was above, moonlit, a brief movement through the light

the one approached the porch,

a roof and many feet in the way.

i think a bobcat, but this morning, nothing to give that one away,

not even a scent for my uneducated nose.

my city time 
above
my country time
below

the gift of "black caps" 

these black raspberries had gone a little too far

in the fridge

while i was in toronto.

so i made a rich rich ink

thinking of my son ian and his friend nate

who made some once and left it

in the fridge for years.

 and ants got in 

and into the raisins

the honey

the sugar

and cornstarch.

but mostly the honeycombs.

 a huge cleaning ensued

including heat and beeswax and cloth and honey and dead ants.

even a dead honeybee.

 (ant trap added for a brief time)

because i lost quite a bit.

up front and center:

soma chocolate from toronto

wattle seed from australia.

delicious!

and quite a bit of gelatin

for sizing paper.

ian and hannnah will see this cupboard

and be shocked by the tidiness!