ghost tangle

One of the unexpected and beautiful moments in making these objects has been the discovery of ghost tangles.

miniature tangle

handspun cotton, graphite and acrylic sheet

3" tall

tangle boneyard

During the hours of sanding and polishing these edges, I mused over the absurdity of the task. My final goal in these pieces is tangle capture and collection, but the edges are where much of my time is invested. The investment is time well spent, details make or break a work and I'm finally happy with the ones on the right.
The small scale of this piece satisfies me, tiny spun threads handled with tweezers on the pages of a sketchbook make it feel precious and reminded me of mounting insects for collection for an entomology class in college, every leg in just the right position.

My sketchbook practice used to be quite rigorous and though this series of work doesn't lend itself to quite that type of careful record keeping and structural drawing, I find I am missing it. Assembling this piece on an open sketchbook felt appropriate, it is a drawing after all.

Below is the process boneyard:

miniature tangle in progress

A miniature tangle sculpture has been in the works. When finished, it will stand just three inches tall. Trimming and sanding the edges. Achieving the perfect polish finish on the edges of such tiny pieces proves to be a challenge.BeforeAfter.
On this scale those bubbles are, to say the least, a bane. I'm working on other solutions. Update forthcoming.

p.s. You would have not believed the state of the scroll saw table before I cleaned it up, Florida humidty is so hard on metal tools. A friend alerted me to a magic liquid, Evapo-Rust, which got rid of the rust crust quite easily.

magic seeds

At the beginning of this year I was gifted a few rare seeds.

They were planted and watered and fussed over.
They grew
and bloomed
and fruited.
I've waited
and waited
and waited.

cotton thread collection method

Once wound on to paper spools (or quills), the threads live in a jar. There are five occupants currently. How far they might reach if unrolled is unknown.

cotton spinning spider

My father recently noted I've become a spider, he might be right. Across the table from him, I am spinning a fine white line from cotton fluff.

Since spring, cotton has become one of my favorite fibers to spin. While at a handweaver's conference last March, I had the good fortune to meet an incredible spinner who specializes in spinning cotton. At every opportunity I sat at her booth, surrounded by mounds of the softest cotton roving, and watched mesmerized as she spun by turns on her spinning wheel and takli. Fluff turned to thread in long stretches, little slubs deftly smoothed out into fine lines as if by magic. The process from the outside is mysterious and the effect hypnotic. Joan, the spinner, wore an exquisite blouse made from cotton grown in her garden, hand spun and handwoven. She explained that while the spinning wheel was essential for speed, the takli was her preferred tool for spinning warp threads because they could be spun more finely and then plied for strength at the same thickness as a weft thread spun (and used as a single) on a wheel. In just the span of a couple short days, I had become the student of a Spider.
For months since, I've carried this little spindle, a lap bowl, and cotton fluff everywhere. When the opportunity arises, I sit and draw a fine fine thread from the tips of my fingers on one hand as the other flicks the spindle to spin. It stretches up and out as far as I can reach before I twist it onto the shaft of the spindle. Whenever visiting friends, watching movies, waiting for a table at dinner, or riding in the car it comes out and spins. My teacher, Joan, warned me simply to not to use it at auctions, as she inadvertently agreed to purchase a cow once. The takli sat in silence for a time after I managed to break it, but I've since replaced it and have been spinning again.

Months after that first little flick of the spindle, I've spun just a couple of ounces of tiny thread which I'll ply together for warping my own loom someday.

glimpse

The summer is swiftly passing, tiny breaths of cool air waft through the veil of the seasons as Fall peeks out and prepares for Act III.

There is much to show and say, but from midst of it I am having trouble giving it substance here. Here's a studio snippet taken just before rearranging the wall to make space for the new.

There's a project in the works, you'll soon see.

here

Hot, muggy mornings are often relieved by the rains which usher in ever muggier afternoons. If we were less substantial beings, we might swim through the air along our streets as we travelled between the bubbled cold of buildings. We'd sink as we entered the threshold and rise again as we left. The crickets accompany us with their lament in the meanwhile; long, slow songs that buzz in our ears as we sit in the heat of the afternoon, our eyes closed in the pretense of sweaty sleep.

There is relief to be found in the bodies of water where we gather. Here we float in the profound blue and enjoy the fruits of summer.

pool, niecessprings

yes that blueCamera lust officially satiated.

silvered mask

Functional, beautiful tools should not be underestimated. Particularly those one might wear for an extended period of time. My respirator mask for example:
Primed and silver leafed. Hopefully it will tarnish a little with use and age, but if it doesn't, a layer of paint to relax the shininess should do the trick.

Idea shamelessly stolen from my brother, his has gold leaf.

Speaking of beautiful tools, a dust protection accessory of a different sort and origin was made recently by one of my good friends see it here.