sometimes i feel so alive it just about breaks my heart

Up before dawn to take care of the horses, then I put the dye pot on the stove and got to work. Of course, my enamel dye pot has rusted right through in one spot, so I reappropriated one of the household stainless steel pots we rarely use. Several weeks ago, I rescued a large cashmere sweater from the trash at a cleaning gig–a well-to-do European family had moved back from whence they came and abandoned the sweater without hesitating. A huge ink stain on the collar and cuff spoke volumes about why, though the sweater itself wasn’t very attractive, either. The 100% cashmere fabric was very high-quality, however, so I brought it home to wash and dream about.

It hung in the laundry room until, ultimately, I decided to make cashmere-and-silk scarves. I have a collection of hand-painted silk scarves that I’ve been waiting to find the perfect use for: my design will be fuzzy soft on one side, smooth on the other, and warm all over. I carefully unseam’d the sweater and soaked it in water, then mixed my dyes and began. It took roughly five hours for the whole process, and I did basketry while I waited.

I have this fantasy where I buy some land and have domesticated animals for fiber. I’ll get up at 4 a.m. every day to do my farm chores and live happily ever after. The fact that cashmere comes from goats merges this fantasy with my recent goat obsession. Goats are just awesome!

In the evening, of course, I went out for some fun-: good eats, good friends, and my first glass-blowing lesson. There was no actual blowing–it was technically lampwork, when rods or tubes of glass are worked over a torch–but it was awesome nonetheless. I expected it to be much hotter and more terrifying, so in that regard it was anticlimactic. When I lived in Oregon, I used to hang out at a glass studio and watch the guys pouring molten glass from the crucible and re-heating glass pieces in the glory hole, all deft movements and sweat. And, of course, The Crucible–an industrial arts school in Oakland, California–just reeks of intensity and skill.

I hope I get to have more lessons. Glass art is intensely fascinating and I’ve wanted to learn the trade since I was a small child. I loved the bright light and heat of the furnace, the white-hot lump of glass that could become anything. I’d love to become skilled enough to make a little octopus, squid, or other cephalopod.

Many more things, but those are the highlights.

* befriending a herd of goats, applying to work at a goat dairy–according to the astrologically-minded, I love goats because I’m a Capricorn

I saw Talus the other night. We haven’t really spent time together lately and it was nice to have a chance to catch up. He complimented me on the tiny cedar bark baskets I used to make, which motivated me to make some more.

I haven’t woven any baskets in a while because I needed to process the bark.

See, cedar bark is peeled off the tree in long strips: the outer bark is scraped off the soft inner portion, which is then hung to dry and left to cure for two years before use. These strips are too thick for weaving: they need to be cut into pieces that are narrow enough for my purposes (a few millimeters wide) and split razor-thin before I can use them. This process can take all day because the bark has to be boiled first (to make it pliable) and processing a large amount isn’t much more work than a small amount at that point.

So, for three 12-hour days, I processed cured bark, wove nine complete baskets, and started several others that I can finish at a later date. Each one is about 1″ x 1.5″ and amazingly intricate. I use a combination of weaving and twining to make completely unique art baskets. They can be worn as pendants, aromatherapy diffusers, or to store tiny items. I like to use mine as a talisman for keeping secrets safe and helping wishes come true.

Photos of individual baskets can be found at touchyphiliac.etsy.com, where they are available for purchase.