Watch a Pattern Happen from Idea to Finished Piece

In the previous post, I told the story of my visit with my aunt Jean. We sat the entire week doing wool crafting, and it was glorious. No housework, no phone calls, nothing but fun. Aaaahhhhh! I can't wait to go back.

While there, my creative juices were flowing. We talked about doing small projects to get her going in the craft of wool applique. My idea for my own 'small' project was to create a coaster in applique, and then from this idea (since one always needs a set of coasters) came the idea to create a set, each with a different subject, for Christmas. From this came the notion of a series based on the 12 days of Christmas. Twelve coasters is nice, right? Well, if you have read about my preferences in motif, you know that trees, birds, fruits, antique motifs, etc. are what I like. Can you guess which image I picked out to start with? Verse one, naturally, a Partridge in a Pear Tree! No mystery there. So I created this coaster in a day or so while sitting and chatting with Auntie.



Along the way, I decided that I didn't want to make a whole series like this, but I really liked the partridge theme, so I decided to make another larger project with that motif, and perhaps one that could be enjoyed year-round--not too Christmas-y, just a bird in a tree, with a medieval flavor.

So that is the genesis of the project you will watch happen now. Nothing very complicated -- a popular idea, one often used, and in many art forms, certainly nothing new or unique, something I knew would work well in applique, with leaves, and animal and fruit -- all simple outlines -- and one that took into account my personal taste. I emphasize this, so that you can imagine allowing the same thought process to guide you in creating your own pattern ideas.

In the beginning, I didn't concern myself with all of the particulars, like size, what I would make, colors, shading, etc. I only thought about the basic idea, so as not to get ahead of myself and overwhelmed. I know from experience that the rest of the plan will come as I inch forward with the pattern, and begin work on the piece. And notice how I was willing to adjust my expectations as the idea evolved. Long ago, I would have stubbornly stuck to my first idea of a set of coasters, feeling that I should see it through. Now I am willing to discard ideas if I'm not 100% enthusiastic, and let my imagination go someplace new. I also used to form an idea immediately of what I wanted the piece to look like, but now I let the images I find guide me a lot more. And before, I would have started by sitting down to try to draw my pattern cold. But no more. I have learned the value of inspiration. Some may have the ability to draw completely out of their own imagination, and I wish I could do that. It's good that I can't though, because you will see that a nice piece can be produced by a person who cannot just sit down and draw something! Just remember, flexibility is key.

Here is what I have ended up with. The design is near completion, although I will undoubtedly tinker with it some more. Compare it to the 'inspirational' images below, and you can follow the evolution.



The very first thing I did when making the coaster was to get online and search images in Google, using 'partridge pear tree'. (Had I been home, I would also have consulted any art books that would help me.) I also tried using those terms along with 'antique' and 'traditional' to see if I got some more antique-looking images, which I prefer to modern style. I then tried to break away from the Christmas motif of many images I saw, by typing 'bird tree medieval' and 'bird woodcut', because I know that woodcuts were a common way of rendering images in medieval times. Here is an example:



Just in case you are not familiar with searching Google images, go to Google.com, and type search terms into the box, as you normally would to search the web. Up in the left-hand corner are other search options, and one of them is 'images'. If you click on that once your search terms are in the box, it will show you only images that it finds on the web, and not text websites. You may have to click 'search images' one more time next to the search box to get the full result. I was a long way into my internet career before I knew about this, so that's why I share it with you!

These searches produced a number of helpful images, which I dragged to my desktop to sort through later and pick the ones that would really help me. Here are some of them.



This first one gave me a good overall, medieval-style image to emulate, although my final rendition didn't really resemble it. It just set the mood for me.



After looking at the image above and others like it, I knew I wanted to make the partridge fill the piece, with leaves and pears all around, rather than make a larger piece with a smaller focal point, as in this image. It did give me the idea to make the piece as a medallion, however. I just used a compass to create the circle. I may put a band of wool around the outside edge. We'll see.



I liked the gracefulness of the turned head in the image above, so I borrowed that idea. I also borrowed the attitude (position) of the partridge from this picture. I debated about having him standing up, maybe with his tail in the air, or with his wings back, as in the woodcut, or roosting, as I finally drew him. I also played with putting feet in, but those seemed not quite right in the piece, maybe because it is stylized. In going for the stylized look, I have to discipline myself not to make it look too 'real', which is often my tendency. And as you can see, this stylized bird has no feet.

Even though I wasn't going for realism, I felt I should consult a photo of a real partridge to help me. Good thing, because . . . .



I found that what I thought was a 'partridge' was actually a quail! The photo above shows a partridge, which isn't nearly as cute as a quail. I like the little bobbly thing on the head of a quail, but I tried putting one on my partridge, even though it didn't really belong, and I didn't like it in this piece. So I will save that for a little piece with quails in it -- maybe a mama quail and her babies marching along in a line. I knew that for a stylized piece I should keep some important elements of the partridge form. I noted how the tail tends to be pointy and turn down, and I reproduced this in the coaster and the medallion. His body is nice and fat, almost humped over on the top, with a smallish round head and fairly stout beak. But beyond this, I let my imagination take over more. Notice, for instance, that I don't have the black stripe going through the eye and down along the side of the head on either piece. I tried several ways to incorporate this on the coaster, but he kept looking like the Hamburglar, so I decided to take some artistic license and leave it out. I think the stripe doesn't translate well into wool -- it may be better for photo and paint, where the line can be softened. I also tried putting it in with embroidery, and I really didn't like that.

On the coaster, I limited the amount of feathers I put on the body, and I will limit the amount of wool feathers and markings I put on the body for the medallion, and rely more on embroidery. See also how I borrowed the bit of striped feathers on the neck of the real partridge and turned them into gold running stitch all the way down the breast of my partridge? I could have done many things there, but that is what I decided in the end. On the wings, I gave a tip of the hat to the real bird's striped feathers in the medallion, but abandoned them altogether on the smaller coaster -- it got too busy. I suggested his wing, and the transition from body color to breast color, using simple lines on the body. I will plan the ornamentation of the body with embroidery when I get there. This is the idea of stylizing something -- picking up a feature on the 'real' thing you are stylizing and play with it a little, keeping it recognizable for the viewer, but taking it someplace new.

For the pears, I had given myself a drawing lesson in pears and other fruit many years back, when painting a fruit garland on the floor at the top of the stairs in our house. So that is an easy thing for me to draw now. I like to make some squatter and some more long and slender. See how putting a little 'X' (as the blossom end of the fruit) near the bottom of the pear gives it more dimension, as if you are looking up at it in the tree? If I remove the 'X' it looks like we are looking at a straight profile of the fruit. I had researched pear leaves also for my previous project. These are somewhat long and tend to curl around a little, so I used that to gracefully frame the pears. Getting the leaves how I liked them was actually the hardest part of the drawing.

I played with two ideas for filling in the leaves and fruit -- I could make them more realistic, as in the image below, with leaves laying over the fruit, and fruit attached to branches, or I could make it more stylized, with less realism in the scene, and therefore less overlap in the leaves and fruit. At first I intended to make the elements more realistic, but as I sketched and worked with the drawing, in the end I picked a happy medium, I think, with just a little overlap to soften the stylized rendering.

This choice between 'realistic' and 'stylized' will often be part of your design process, and you may also want to give it consideration when adopting your 'style'. Do you want to specialize in realistic or stylized pieces? If drawing is not your forte, stylized images may be better, and as you can see they needn't look so stylized as to lose all realism. When drawing stylized images, you can often get away with less detail, mistakes in proportion may be less important, and color choices more flexible. Another option is to specialize in designs rather than images. I plan to do a fair amount of rustic design work as part of my own style, and it is often easier to draw designs. Architectural elements are an excellent source for inspiration.



This image also gave me some inspiration for color and shading, yet to be executed. I am thinking about trying shibori (resist) dyeing for the background, to suggest shadows and leaves, and I will use yellow wool for the pears, and dip-dye it with a whisper of orangey-red on the fat part for the blush on the fruit, and a hint of green elsewhere. I plan to embroider the partridge with gold thread to make him really stand out and look festive, and even more stylized -- maybe like a cloisonne bird. I will heavily embroider the suggested wing, at the top of his back. I also intend to do the leaves and background in several different motifs -- maybe summer and fall color combinations, with more greens in the summer one, and more burnished golds and russets in the fall one. So I'll be making more than one of these.

A Gift Given Back

I spent a week in Las Vegas recently with my 83-year-old aunt, who has been like a mother to me, since my own died 10 years ago. She has been an avid handworker for years, doing all kinds of crafts, and she introduced me to many of them in my early years, and although she is not my mother, she certainly was the mother of my desire to craft! And I was the daughter she didn't have -- she had three boys, so teaching them her crafts wasn't in the cards. Her niece, however, was always anxious to see what she had going while visiting! We spent many enjoyable hours crafting as I grew up, and when I was a young adult. In fact, that has always been a part of our relationship.

Her favorite craft of all has been Brazilian embroidery, and in fact she taught it for quite a while. Her needlework hangs all over her walls, but when you look closely at each piece, the dates on them read '84, '92, '87 etc. She laid her stitchery down about 15 years ago, due to health problems, and just never picked it up again. Then last year, her middle son, and in many ways her favorite, died suddenly at 53. She has been in a depression ever since.

My visit in February was very special. I brought with me all kinds of beautiful hand dyed wool from my huge collection (inventory, really) and I introduced her to penny rugs. Her eyeballs were like two ping pong balls on the end of her nose! She LOVED it and that's all we did the entire week. She worked on a candle mat penny rug, with Brazilian flowers in the middle of each penny. So pretty! I designed and produced a little piece, of a partridge in a pear tree. She couldn't take her eyes off that picture all week, and she just kept saying how lovely it was. So I snuck out with my uncle and got a frame and mat and left it out for her to find in the morning, and keep. She cried. Then she hugged me, and she cried more, telling me how much it meant to her for me to come and bring a spark back into her life. I cried, too!



Since I have returned home, we have been in touch and I've sent her more wool. She called a few weeks ago and said that they have bought her a scooter, so that she can get out more now. She has trouble walking due to diabetes, and has been pretty housebound for a long time. But now she has brightened up so much that she wants to hit the mall! It was wonderful to hear what a chain reaction of joy I had started, simply bringing some wool with me and spending some time with her.

I hope to go back out soon. It means so much to me that I could give back to my aunt something she had given to me long ago, when she showed me her crafts and helped me learn how to do them.

You CAN Draw Your Own Patterns!

When talking about the wool arts, I often hear from others how they regret that they are not artistic or that they can't draw well enough to make their own patterns. I wonder how often a person who feels this way may not ever try to make a pattern, because they 'know' from past experience that they won't be able to do it. Well, in this entry, I would like to encourage those who see themselves as non-artistic, by helping them form a new definition of 'artistic' or 'creative', and by providing some pointers for making simple patterns that might be used for applique or hooking.

First, here is a definition of 'creative' that I learned some time ago, and I related to it so much that I have always remembered it. Here it is:

"Creativity is the art of not revealing your source."

So simple, yet so profound. Thinking in theoretical terms, it would be very difficult for the human mind to form creative ideas in a vacuum -- with no one else and nothing around him but white walls, ceiling and floor. We draw ideas from everything we see, hear and touch. Yes, we may make them 'unique' by human standards, but in their simplest form, our creative ideas come from external stimuli, often in the natural world, and as art and ideas have developed, from the work of others that we see, touch, or hear, and appreciate. In a sense, today's artists are standing on the shoulders of giants in the arts, those who have gone before us and contributed their tiny part to the giant historical world of the arts.

The earliest human beings developed rudimentary art forms based on what they experienced around them in nature. They might have made small whistles built to emulate the sound of a bird; woven mats from the long fibers or strap-like leaves of plants; cloth dyed using ingredients made from the bright colors seen in plants and other materials. Others coming after them built on those ideas, adding new ideas formed from their own awareness of their surroundings, and so on. As cultures formed, some ideas crossed the barriers between these cultures, out of necessity. All cultures have clothing, drinking and eating vessels, textiles for everyday use, such as bedding and linens. All cultures certainly have buildings and transportation equipment. But beyond that, the ornamentation of all these necessities becomes quite diverse. Historically, cultures have developed collective 'styles' that are identifiable. Asian, Egyptian, Greek, European, and Hispanic art all have their own distinctive style.

And this helps to prove my point -- ideas were built upon, but remained similar, across many artisans in a culture, rather than radically different styles of ornamentation developing from different people in one culture. In any cultural art exhibit, one can see where they were sharing ideas, altering them somewhat, while keeping them similar. There are certainly exceptions to this, to be sure, but in general we see small universes of ideas being shared within cultures, and these ideas might not be present at all in other cultures. Only when there was commerce or other communication between cultures was there an exchange of ideas that might lead to the adoption of a style into one culture from another.

In today's world, there is an ongoing and increasing trend to blend artistic styles from many sources, with the advent of easy transportation around the globe, and the mixing of ideas through modern communications, such as the internet. This is especially true in the U.S., which has been a melting pot of ideas for a couple of centuries. Now we are all borrowing ideas from each other, and adding to them or twisting them to make them our own. This is creating an explosion of styles and ideas that is really pretty amazing, and enjoyable to witness. But we are still taking ideas from others, altering them and making them our own. In many ways, what the great thinker Solomon said is true, way back in the days of the Bible, "There is nothing new under the sun."

So lest you think that 'creativity' means 'creating' something entirely new and unique, I hope you see my first point. This is important, because it puts you in the ballgame. Anyone, to some degree, can look at an idea, change it around a little and produce something new. It's not as hard as you might think, so please start considering yourself able to do this, even to a small degree. This is a skill that you can cultivate, with a little effort.

Personally, I don't consider myself to be particularly creative, although those who know me will tell you that I am very creative. I can't say I have ever produced something truly unique from anything else--something completely new that has never been done before. Some variation of everything I have ever done is already out there. But by simply borrowing ideas from what I have seen, adjusting the color, or the proportions or perhaps the media used, I have made it my own. Others see the results of this, and pronounce me 'Creative'. I just smile and say, 'Thanks', and I don't generally reveal my source! There are some traits and skills, however, that the 'creative' person may have that others don't, and I will discuss how to cultivate those traits now.

Step One The most important thing that 'creative' people have that other less 'creative' people may not have is a passion for the beauty found in art of all kinds, particularly painting and textile art. I have this passion, so I have spent time practicing reproducing the things I enjoy seeing, reading about them, and trying my hand at manipulating ideas I have taken from others. Here is an important principle to keep in mind:

A passion for learning a new skill or acquiring new knowledge is the main requirement for doing so.

Notice that I say passion, not talent. Talent is very overrated in my opinion. Even great artists, like Rembrandt or da Vinci, became accomplished in their art because they worked at it. Granted, having some natural ability is certainly a help, but it is not that ability that makes someone accomplished, nor is it the only criteria for becoming accomplished. The passion that fuels the effort to learn and grow is far more important, and it is passion that can make a person with mediocre natural ability able to excel beyond the person with great natural ability. The passion I have makes me work hard at learning the thing I have a passion for, and that work will make me better at it, regardless of my natural ability.

Naturally, there are some limitations to this. For instance, at my current age, it is unlikely that any amount of passion is going to make me a brilliant gymnast. (Can I get an 'amen' to that, all you 50-somethings?) Just getting out of bed some days can be dangerous business for me. Likewise, we all have our mental limitations that may prevent us from being the brilliant scientist that would find the cure for cancer. So I'm not going to tell you that 'you can do anything if you put your mind to it', because that's not strictly true. But we aren't talking about gymnastics or medical science here. All we want to do is manage some simple sketches that will make our particular art even more enjoyable. Honestly, this is well within the mental and physical grasp of most women, with effort and persistence drawn from a keen interest in making it happen.

Now, there is nothing wrong with saying that you just aren't interested enough in something, even drawing patterns for your wool art, to learn how to do it. So the first decision you must make is whether or not you care enough to learn. If the answer is 'no', then there is no harm in that, and it is perfectly fine to continue as you have, perhaps feeling better for having said, 'I just don't care enough about it to learn', rather than, 'I'm really not very creative.' Do you see the difference? The first statement puts you more in control of what goes on with your creative endeavors, while the second attitude may leave you feeling intimidated and unable to accomplish what you want because of a 'lack of talent'. And the first statement, in the end, is probably truer than the second statement. So if you just aren't 'feelin' the love', carry on as before, but by all means, change the conversation that goes on in your own head, and that you have with others about yourself. Don't continue to believe that you just don't have talent.

If you feel that you do have enough interest to try to learn, focus on cultivating your passion, and don't worry about this nebulous thing called 'talent'. Get the passion! It is difficult to say sometimes what creates a passion for something in a person's heart. Something will just grab you, and you can't understand it -- all you know is that you love it. And it's probably true that it's hard to generate passion where none of this 'natural, unexplainable' passion exists. But I do believe with the proper stimulation, it's possible for some to develop a passion, by just trying something new. I never would have guessed that dyeing wool would become my passion, had I not tried it. Who knows? If you try some of the things I suggest below, and have some success, the drawing part of your wool art may become your passion! You will never know unless you give it a try.

So begin by telling yourself that you can draw something that would turn into a lovely piece, a rug, or wall hanging, or chair cushion. Try to imagine what you could do with a new-found skill, that would allow you to create your very own one-of-a-kind works -- anything you want -- rather than having to rely on what you can find in patterns. Let me tell you, that is a very empowering attitude and one that can really change your whole art career. Let yourself dream big, but agree with yourself to start heading toward your dream with little steps, designed to encourage you along the way -- small achievable projects, one at a time. If you truly can internalize the things I'm suggesting, that will also help you get the passion. And above all, stop telling yourself that you can't.

Step Two It's a huge world out there, with an infinite number of ideas, and it can be overwhelming. Bring it into proportion for yourself by learning to identify those themes and motifs that you like and finding sources to borrow ideas -- fantastically easy in this modern age. This step will also help you build your passion, as you take ownership of 'your own style'. After all, if you are going to become an artist of sorts, it would be a good idea to know in what direction you would like to head. We've all seen works by more renowned artists, and they generally have a particular style, or preferred subject matter, even if they do dabble in other styles as well. It's the very rare person who excels in many disciplines. Most specialize in one, or at most, a few things. Think of Thomas Kincaid, or Anne Geddes, or Taylor Swift (for Pete's sake, if I hear one more song about being a teenager in love, I'll have to kill someone). These and many others found a style and worked it until it was very good. For me, (as you will read elsewhere on this blog) medieval or other antique and rustic motifs, animals and birds, simple human figures, soft, heathery primitive colors, leaves and trees, fruit, and textures of all kinds are a few of the motifs and styles that have always grabbed my attention and caused me to surreptitiously rip out a page from a magazine in the doctor's office, or confiscate one of my kids' cameras to snap a picture. (They hate it when I do that.) I am in the beginning stages myself of formalizing these preferences into a style that I plan to work at, develop, refine, and make my personal style. You will see it emerge in the next few years in my own work.

It's also overwhelming to think of having to learn to become 'an artist' in order to draw the things you want to draw. You may imagine having to take a lot of classes, or having to learn a whole new art form to feed your wool arts. But if you narrow down your style, then you might be able to imagine just focusing on learning to draw barnyard animals, or trees, or human faces, or buildings, etc. This might seem much more manageable to you. Developing your own style will help you to narrow down the options in the big world of the arts to those that you can actually fathom being able to do, and specialize in.

So spend some thoughtful time to develop ideas of what your own style is. Perhaps start by making a list of those themes and motifs that you like. Think about your own style and color preference. Do you like modern, with bright colors and abstract motif? Or do you prefer cute country teddy bears, pumpkins, and frogs in primitive style and color? Landscapes? Human figures? Personal themes that have meaning for you? Dark, brooding colors? Identify a small universe of colors that you like to use, perhaps 100 or so colors, light and dark. You could go to your local sewing store, and collect all the colors in embroidery floss that you like. There are so many thousands of colors out there. Narrowing your choices down to those that you really love will help you in the early stages. Keep the colors simple the first few small projects you do -- give yourself every chance for success by using colors that you love. To choose some subject matter that you like, look through all kinds of media -- books, magazines, architectural elements on your tour of that old estate, snap photos of real life objects, and the web is the most amazing resource imaginable. Maybe you could build a scrapbook of color swatches, pictures, textures and lists of things that you like, to keep you grounded in developing your style. Something you can return to when you find yourself wandering or drifting in your design process. Naturally you can depart from it whenever you want, but if you concentrate on this more narrow definition of your style in the early stages, it will sharpen your focus, and nurture your passion for what you do. And in repeating the use of similar themes and color combinations, you will become more practiced, more quickly. You can always branch out later, but for now, I would suggest keeping things as simple as you can, while you learn.

Step Three is to become better at looking at something and deciding whether it would make good subject matter for the media in which you work. For instance, in wool applique, one can only put in so much detail without it looking too busy, so I force myself to look for simpler forms and less detail, because I do appreciate a certain amount of detail put into a work -- it signifies time and care spent. I start with simple, and then I find ways, here and there to add a little detail, often with embroidery. Other subjects may look better rendered as a rug. I have learned over time what subjects will look good in my particular art form.

If you have an idea of the motifs that you like, when you see something that rings the bell for you, try to get a photo, or other rendering. I have even taken rubbings from objects when I was without a camera, just to get the shape and general idea to work from. Or, better yet, if you have a teenager with you, they will inevitably have their cellphone and can take a picture for you, and email it to you, all of which can be accomplished in about 10 seconds for a 16-year-old!

Collect your ideas in a folder or in your scrapbook, and ruminate on them, letting ideas form in your mind of how best to use them. You may like the shape of a tree in a picture, but would need to simplify it for your rug or wall hanging. Rendering a face may be more effective in a rug, than in applique, if you like to shade and provide a lot of detail. Or maybe you have a technique to make a face look good in applique, in which case a face may work well. A detailed landscape might be better done as a rug. I simple medallion design with few colors might be more interesting as an applique project, or part of a quilt. When looking at a photo that you have taken, work on your skill in deciding whether it might make good subject matter - you may have found the subject beautiful in person, but it may lose something in the translation to art. Often the real thing is so much better to you than a photo, because you recall the mood and atmosphere that you were experiencing when viewing the subject, and that may not carry over into a photo. Is there a focal point to the photo, or is it a landscape with little detail, albeit pretty? Do you have a photo of a beautiful sunset? Maybe you can add a black silhouette or two from somewhere else to create the focal point. Or your subject matter may have personal meaning to you -- in that case you have more latitude in making it work, in my opinion, and if it might not be the best subject for your piece, that is less important than the significance it has for you.

Talk with other experienced wool artists that you may know and get their input. Consult some books and magazines to see what subjects are generally used in particular arts, and which are used across many, and if so, are they altered? Perhaps given more detail in some forms? In particular, look for examples of motifs that you are considering for inclusion in your 'style'. Rug Hooking Magazine and other fiber magazines are also a great source of ideas for motifs that you can be certain will work. You may never, in fact, do anything with your ideas, so don't feel pressured to make everything happen. You are just giving yourself options. Occasionally, I go through my folder and discard those ideas that are no longer interesting.

Yes, this is a skill that can be cultivated, but I'm sorry to say that it is one that is often cultivated by making mistakes -- by getting most, or all, of the way through a project, only to see that it doesn't look as good rendered in paint or wool as it did in real life, or in a picture. If you are working on subject matter that has personal significance, again, this may not be an issue, but it is true that some things will make better subject matter than others, depending upon your media. Over time, your eye will become better, perhaps from having learned a hard lesson on a previous project. You will learn to pass over those images or models that you know will not work, and narrow your focus even further to those that you like and know will work.

Step Four is to develop your awareness of proportion. For instance, if you are preparing a photo to be used in a project, knowing where to crop it is important, to take best advantage of the subject matter, and create balance in the picture. Or perhaps it might be better to move the elements in the photo around to improve it for your purposes. When sketching a figure, it is important to be able to see that the head is too big relative to the body, or that the slope of the roof on the house in your sketch is much steeper than the one in the picture, and that is what is throwing it all off. Often just measuring the elements will help. If the head is 1" and the body is 4" long in the photo, then recognize that this proportion must be the same in your pattern -- the head should be 3" if the body is going to be 12". Or if the roof is too tall, measure its height at the peak as that relates to the width of the house in your model. When you bring that into alignment in your sketch, then everything else will work. Simple geometry is a wonderful tool that will help you to accurately mimic in your medium what you are seeing in your model, or photo. It's simple math, and it all comes into play when dealing with proportion. The good news is that if you had any geometry in school, you can, pretty easily, resurrect those skills. I use a lot of math in my own drawing. Learning how to position elements in a picture may be more difficult, but trust me, it's not beyond you! There are good books out there, and a book and a little practice may be all you need to get you on your way.

Step Five is to develop your sense of color and contrast. Narrowing your color universe will certainly help you in this, and there are other resources and books available to help you, as well as many magazine articles in RHM and others. But again, practice will ultimately be your greatest help. I also offer a tool on my hand dyed wool website that helps many of my customers. I have many, many colors, and I divide them up into primitive, country, modern, and vibrant colors. Selecting colors from one or two of those color families will help you in creating a project containing colors that are compatible with each other. I find that most customers do this, selecting from only one or two color families.

BECOMING 'CREATIVE'

At some point in this process, you'll have to finally put your pencil on the paper and give 'being creative' a try. I won't go into a full-blown sketching lesson here. My intent is just to give you a push in the right direction. If you would truly like to cultivate some of these skills, start with some practice sketching, without the intent of turning the results into textile art. Just sketch. Or take one or two beginner's drawing classes, get a couple of good art books on sketching, or there may be some workshop on the subject at a rug camp--honestly, that is all you would need to give you the skills to make patterns for projects that you could really enjoy. There is no need to become Rembrandt. Learning to draw simple shapes and outlines, and learning how to place objects in your pattern are enough to get you going. Start with some small projects that will be easier, and will give you some success to encourage you. Honestly, giving yourself a little 'sketching class' may only take a few weeks of concentration, in between your other activities--in the evening, or during your lunch break, or on the weekends. This is not a big commitment, and one that will give you so much freedom in your art -- a big payback for a relatively small outlay of time and effort.

Here are some techniques that I use to make myself look 'creative'.

When borrowing ideas, shapes or proportion from images, one valuable tool I use is the photocopier, and I also have a 'Photoshop-type' program that I can scan images into and then manipulate. An all-in-one printer is ideal for both of these tasks. I find many images in catalogs, magazines and books that I know I can borrow from, and I drop them in my 'Creative Ideas in Wool' file. There are always one or two projects in that file calling out to me at an given time, until I relent, pull them out and do something with them. When the time comes to use one or two, I decide the size of my project, then the size of the objects I will put in it. I may make a very simple outline of the overall plan, just to get proportion. Then I will start to manipulate the images that I'm planning to use. First of all, the picture I am borrowing from is almost never the size I need it to be. So I will enlarge or reduce it on the photocopier. Simple math is all you need here. I just measure one dimension of the picture, say, the height. If the picture is 2 1/2" tall and I need it to be more like 3 1/2", I just divide 3 1/2 by 2 1/2 and get 1.4. I translate this for my printer into an enlargement of 140% and I have the size I need. Likewise, if I want to go from 3 1/2" to 2 1/2", I do the opposite -- divide 2 1/2 by 3 1/2, giving me .71 -- this translates into 71% for the printer.

Once I have an object the required size, I go to a window, (or a lightbox if you have one), and literally trace the parts of the object that I intend to emulate. It may be the general outline, or just the head that I am going to stick onto another body from somewhere else, etc. I use light sketchy strokes so that erasing the inevitable mistakes is easy. I always plan to do a lot of erasing and redrawing. I may want to adjust the actual shape a bit, so I experiment, sketching and erasing as needed. Sometimes I will trace several copies so that I can experiment as much as I want while still retaining clean copies of those that I liked. Do you see how much of what I do is measuring, copying and experimenting? I never sit down and draw a nice sketch out of the air, and you don't need to, either.

When I was younger, I expected to get it right the first time, and I would become frustrated if that didn't happen. Now I understand that it is a longer process for me, and one that often involves laying down the work for a time -- an afternoon, a day, a week, or even a month -- and coming back to it with fresh eyes. I find this invaluable, and some of my best changes come after having put it down for awhile. I even enjoy this process now -- working, stopping, ruminating and working again. I smile to myself sometimes while I am taking a break because I have come to understand that this period of doing nothing may, ironically, be the most productive part of the development process. (In fact, even the writing of this entry has been done using this technique, and the best editing that I do comes after I have left it for awhile, then returned and reread the whole thing to get the big picture. I move a lot of text around then. I rarely write a piece in one sitting.)

I keep my sketching light until I am seeing lines that I like, so that all my experimental lines can be easily erased if needed. As I get closer to seeing a finished product, I will darken the lines, and maybe even add a little shading to see what it would look like. So in this way I slowly finish my pattern. Then I put it down again and come back to it. If I still like it, then I know it's ready for use. If not, then I keep working. Now understand, at this point all I have are simple outlines of the elements in my designs. That's all I need to worry about for now. All the shading, color planning, and addition of those details that will give dimension, are in the future. Some may want to add shading or even color to further develop the idea, and you can, but it's not necessary at this stage if you are already working hard to get to this point. Remember that the outline, or a simple rendering of the pattern or motif is all you need to accomplish for now.

For those who have always used a pattern, it's the drawing that daunts them. For others who have relied on kits, the color selection may also be intimidating. So if this is true for you, take it a step at a time. Perhaps you could develop the pattern yourself, then get help with the color planning for your first few projects. Try to participate in that process as much as possible, and soon you will have the extra confidence needed to try the color planning yourself. And remember that working with colors that you have pre-selected as favorites in Step One, will greatly narrow down the options, making deciding easier for now. You can branch out later as you become more experienced.

Leonardo da Vinci said,

"Art is never finished, only abandoned."

I believe this is true. From one germ of an idea, through your pencil, and later, through your hook or needle, an infinite number of results are possible. At some point, you have to look at your work, be satisfied, and stop. This may sound strange to some, but I had to learn this. I always felt in my heart, when working on any project, that there was one perfect result that I was looking for, but I never knew what it was -- I only had a general idea. I found this very frustrating, and I would have a hard time feeling satisfied with the finished product. This quote helped me, seeing a great artist like da Vinci saying this about his own work. Now I can look at a finished piece and see it as one of many ways I could have done it, and enjoy the one option that I chose. (Da Vinci was, incidentally, one of those few who excelled in many disciplines. He truly was a genius.)

What if you hate the results of your first efforts? Excellent! Give them to that sister-in-law that bugs you. Or better yet, keep it, and the others that come after, so that you can track your progress as you improve. Or at least take pictures and put them in your scrapbook. The only way to truly appreciate where you end up as an artist is to compare your later works to the pieces you did at the beginning. Wouldn't it be fun to have a historical record of your journey from 'helpless non-artist' to 'accomplished artisan'? If nothing else, your children may enjoy having it someday.

And I would love to have your pictures, too, so please feel free to share any results you get, after reading this post. It would encourage me!

In the next few days, I'll write a post that will bring you along with me as I develop a pattern from idea to sketch, ready to transfer to wool. This is the project that has been calling out to me from my 'Wool' file for the past few months. You'll get to see all the cheating I do! Hooray!

Confessions of a Wool Dyer

When I was young, I hated my last name. I was the butt of many jokes and mean nicknames by the boys in school. In fact, one boy, William, was so mean to me in the fourth grade that my teacher stood us facing each other, and told me to slap him! (Can you imagine this happening today?) Being the mild-mannered (but obedient) girl that I was, I gently slapped him. The teasing never did stop until, perhaps, high school, but by then I was a confirmed last name hater.

My last name? Dyer.

This seemingly innocuous last name was transformed, by the imaginations of many young boys, into all kinds of interesting epithets. "Dyer-EE-ah" was very popular over the years, as was "Diaper Dyer", "Clothes Dryer", etc. These nicknames were all somehow figured out by the local boys, no matter what school I went to, and I went to many, while growing up. Over time I really came to hate my name and wished many times that it were a simple last name, like Anderson or Taylor. Or, better yet, a name that evoked the idea of Old Money, like Hastings or Windsor or Chamberlain. Anything but Dyer, please.

When I was in my 20's, I lived in Mexico for a year, and my last name was, legally, Dyer-Dupuis, according to the tradition in many countries of using the father's surname, followed by the mother's maiden name. I liked this, because at the time I identified more with my mother's side of the family, and I liked her pretty French name. And I also liked the fact that Dupuis (doo-pwee) was the last name of the two in this format, and was more often remembered than Dyer. So when I returned to the States, I kept the name. When I got married I took my husband's last name Sylvia, although I have missed my hyphenated last name over the years, especially when people accidently use 'Sylvia' as my first name.

The name Dyer is of English origin, and most likely the first 'Dyer' was literally a dyer in his community, and so would have become known as 'John the dyer' or, as time went on, simply, 'John Dyer'. And he was, most likely, a wool dyer, because in those parts wool would have been a mainstay in the wardrobe of most people. So the name is of entirely respectable origin, and it's a shame that a few mean boys would have ruined it for me.

My profession today? Dyer.

When I first began dyeing wool, the irony of my maiden name was lost on me, because it had been a long while, by that time, since I had been a Dyer. It wasn't until fairly recently that I realized that I had come full circle in the history of my own family name, and I have finally come to appreciate it in the end. My father has passed on now, which I regret because he always felt bad that I hated our family name, and it would be nice to tell him that I am now proud of the name his family passed down, and that I have returned to its roots, carrying out a craft that is almost as old as time, really (although I hear there is one profession that is older . . . ).

I enjoy the fact that what I do is, with a few modern changes, essentially the same craft that others have developed, perfected and carried out as a trade for generations, and I like it for the same reason that I love singing old hymns from the 16th century--there is a connection with generations before us which in many other ways has been lost in our modern society. With the whirlwind of our technological advances surrounding us everywhere, I find it comforting to walk into my kitchen, put a big pot on the stove and stir The Wool from white into a lovely grey-green, just as my very first ancestor did so long ago.

Medieval Themes

I have tinkered over time with 'Medieval-style' themes in my designs, in fact the printing in my business logo (in the title of the blog) is taken from the Illuminated Manuscripts -- manuscripts from the 6th century into the middle ages. These were manuscripts with very ornate lettering, and often gold burnishing, making them lovely! The script I borrowed for use in my logo is known as 'insular majuscule' and there is also a very 'Celtic-looking' insular minuscule script, the smaller script in the image below.



So, as much as I love these themes, I made a decision this past week to really pursue that idea, and make it my signature. It is a rustic and classical style that lends itself to applique, and, I believe, would also translate well into rugs, although I don't design rugs. The colors are also conducive to the wool arts -- earthy, rich colors, that were plant-based, because that's all there was at the time. (Golly! No sparkly hot pink gel pens?!) The best part of all is that I can borrow ideas with less fear of copyright infringement! Because the art is so old, it is easy to find royalty-free sources. I never copy to the line, anyway -- I only use the inspiration, or general scale.



So I did some research on art books with Medieval images, and I emailed the Hubs with a concise listing of all the books I want, complete with URLs, so he can look for those for the next gift-giving holiday. I find that this is the only way to get anything that I truly want out of him, the poor dear -- he really is gift-challenged. So I figure I'm just doing him a favor! This will give me a nice library to get going.

My wool business is keeping me quite preoccupied at present, so I am patiently waiting to get it into 'cruise' mode, so that I can return to my creative endeavors. At that time, I will develop this idea and work on some projects. I like applique especially, because the payoff is fairly quick -- a nice project can be done from start to finish in a week, even with a lot of embroidery, and I have a short attention span!

Penny Rug Wool

A Little Project All For Myself

As I get my business off the ground, I am getting the old urge to do some projects, and to do some sketching for future projects. Even a busy life can't squelch the creative urge, I guess. It feels good. Long ago, I did a pillow with a theme of the Garden of Eden, and the serpent in the tree, to tempt Eve. As a result of this temptation and fall of Man, God decreed that man would have to work by the sweat of his brow (depicted by the thorns growing into the garden from the side) and that he would ultimately die, instead of living forever, depicted by the words in the piece. It's a theme that is meaningful for me.

Recently, I pulled it out and spruced it up. Applique pillows do suffer from wear and tear over time, so I redid a lot of stitching. It was enjoyable work, remembering all my motivation when I did the piece.



Penny Rug Wool

Fulfilling My Potential

When I was young, I did quite well in school, and in fact won several scholastic awards during high school, graduating near the top of my class. I would have been at the very top, but my extra-curricular activities were way more fun than homework! I don't say this to brag at all, because I regard any intelligence and ability that I have to be a gift from God -- something that He just poured into the top of my head, snapping the lid shut and saying,"There. Go enjoy that".

I tell you this because after high school I did nothing with all this talent. I went to the local community college, and finally became a hairdresser, never even completing the courses that would have at least earned me an AA degree. For the next few years I starved in that profession, because, as many will tell you, doing volume services is usually what brings in the money, unless you are at the top of the field and can command a nice dollar for every service. I was way too nitpicky and careful in my cutting and other services to ever do volume. There is certainly nothing wrong with the field of hairdressing, but when I look back now, understanding more who I am, I realize that, with some encouragement back then (which I didn't have) I could have gone to nearly any college in the country and become, perhaps, a medical researcher. That is something I would have been really good at, and who knows? I may have played an important part in discovering the cure for a disease, like breast cancer. Is it too late for me to still do this? Well, at 51, maybe not, but I am beyond wanting to do it now. I have a husband, three teens, a business, and a household that I barely have time to run, as it is. Taking on a major career would take away too much from them now, and I'm not willing to do that.

But to digress a bit. I got out of hairdressing and into office work at an investment advisory firm. I did not make the money that the college graduates at the firm did, doing the same work. So while I did make better money, the lack of degree cost me many thousands of dollars over the years I was there. I got married, and went overseas with my new husband, again doing administrative work. When we came home I continued in that vein until we had our first child. I wanted to be home with her, so I returned to my hairdressing work, opening a shop in my own home to be near her. Eventually I simply got tired of doing hair, and closed the shop. Next, I did some cooking locally for extra money, which continued through a major move about 10 years ago. Since that move, I have worked in banquet service at a local hotel for about 8 years, and I have done some catering, as well.

Two years ago, I developed breast cancer. Fortunately, it was found at stage 0 and my prognosis is excellent, but the whole experience, which was difficult, gave me pause to re-evaluate. (For more on breast cancer, please see the link to my breast cancer blog in the sidebar.) I realized that the common theme of all my 'jobs' up until that point was that they were all on The Path of Least Resistance. I had never really taken the time to evaluate my ability, and find the thing that I would enjoy and be good at -- I always chased the dollar. I won't get into great commentary on the subject, except to say that for me, this realization brought regret. I love my life as it is, and I know that all the decisions I made earlier in life, right or wrong, brought me to where I am today. So from that standpoint, I don't regret making them. On the other hand, I feel a sense of having squandered the abilities that were given to me.

So I finally did take the time to evaluate what I love and what I am good at, and to formulate a plan to find work that would take those things into account. The one thing that I love most is hand dyeing wool. So I began to imagine a business doing just that. In the past, when I had imagined having my own business, or inventing something and selling it, or some other hairbrained scheme, I always became discouraged by not knowing where to begin, or by not having enough money to invest, or by not wanting to have a storefront that required my presence many long hours each week. Fortunately, the internet is at a stage now where many of these roadblocks are removed. And I realized, looking at the wool already available on the web, that no one was offering what I, myself, wanted -- many colors in one place, and the ability to buy many small pieces in the colors of my choice, at reasonable prices.

All of this thought and planning lit up my mind. I wrote down pages and pages of notes and ideas. For the first year of the business, I worked many long days, in fact one night I worked clear through until the light of day to reach a goal I had set for myself. I felt on fire to get my ideas up and going. At first I planned to offer about 400 colors, but as I worked on more and more formulas, they organized themselves in such a way that I concluded I would need to use them all if I wanted to offer a complete selection of colors, which I did. And I wanted to offer all those colors in enough values to make shading possible in any color. Simple math made me realize that I was looking at offering at least 1,100 colors, and I felt very hesitant about this, which started to paralyze me, as I tried to plan what my business would look like. So one day I sat down and evaluated my hesitation to offer all of the colors I wanted to. I concluded that I was concerned about all the work needed to keep that many colors organized, and I decided that my desire to offer as many colors as I wanted trumped any fear I had of organizing it all -- I knew I could do it, it would just take more work, which I was not afraid of. Once that was decided, I kept any color that I felt was worthy of being in the collection -- which basically meant that it was not too similar to the color next to it.

And, yes, it was a lot of work. It took a full year to develop the formulas, name them, organize and document them, and photograph and upload them onto the web. And with that many colors, there were lots of little discrepancies to deal with, and I am now working on going back through every single color to resolve those. When I am done I expect to have a perfectly organized collection, with accurate graphics, interesting descriptions, and a complete inventory. Only then will I turn my attention to the fun part -- developing ideas and formulas for specialty colors, working up patterns, doing shows, and even writing a book on color formulation, a subject on which I hope I have a lot to contribute, after all the color studies and dyeing I have done.

So at 51, I am finally fulfilling some of my potential. Is it medical research? Nah. But that's OK. If I can aspire to making a difference in the field of wool dyeing, I think that will be enough for me at this stage. Maybe my lot in life is to make small and personal differences in the lives of others -- both those that I know personally, and those that buy my wool and enjoy it in their own home on the other side of the country. (I really do get a charge out of knowing that others are enjoying my wool.) And it's enough that I can get up in the morning and spend the day doing something I love, while being home when the kids and the Hubs get home from work. My house is still a mess, but I never was a good housekeeper -- as the business grows, the first thing I will treat myself to is some maid service -- more thoughtful evaluation has led me to understand that this would be an excellent use of my resources!

Hand Dyed Wool

Closing in on Goals

After 1 1/2 years at this wool business, I feel a tremendously warm and fuzzy sense of accomplishment, although there is much left to do before I will feel entirely done establishing myself. My inventory is about 3/4 complete, and I am preparing to go back through each and every color to make sure all is well with the formula, the documentation, the dyestock, the listing description, and to prepare to release color planners of all the colors -- a monumental project to say the least, and one which will cost $2,000 or more upfront to finance.

In particular, I have been going back through graphics to fine tune them for accuracy. This is very time consuming work, but vital. It is hard to shop online for color, so I hope to remove some of the quesswork by at least making sure that the color on my screen looks the same as the color I am holding in my hand. I have checked my colors on other monitors, and I do find that the colors seem correct, although perhaps a little more or less intense, depending on the monitor. I have noticed that laptop screens are not nearly as good at rendering the color as desktops screens are, so I suggest the use of a desktop screen to my customers. I also try to help my customers select colors by giving a good description of the color they are viewing, as it relates to the colors around it. Also helpful, I believe, is the fact that the colors are grouped according to similarity in formula. For instance, all the colors in the Primitive color family have at least 15% of each primary in them sending the closer to the center of the color wheel. The Vibrant colors all have only two primaries, so they can be expected to be very bright. In this manner, a customer can be assured that the colors in a particular family will go well together in a project, and I find that customers tend to favor color families, often selecting colors from only one family, or sometimes two that are next to each other, for instance, from the Vibrant and Modern colors families, or the Primitive and Country families.

I believe that this way of organizing color is new, at least in the commercial arena, but it makes logical sense to me, and is the only way I could think about color really. There is a lot more detail to share about this approach, but to be honest I am saving it for a book that I hope to write about formulating colors. I hope to make it very comprehensive, in looseleaf format for easy use on the workbench, with many, many quality graphics to guide the dyer, and logical, comprehensive techniques for formulating each color family. In particular, I have what I believe are pretty revolutionary ideas for looking at the formulation of yellows, oranges and greys.

In the meantime, I enjoy the day-to-day of dyeing and adding to the inventory. The pleasure that I get from simply looking at all the colors hanging on the racks is difficult to describe. Isn't color wonderful?



Penny Rug Wool