Fiber
Remember how I tried to do a test piece for my first woven shibori? Yeah, it didn't turn out awesome, which is why I didn't share what happened when I pulled out the threads, but at least I learned a lot.
So instead, I decided to just jump in like I normally do with some virgin bamboo fiber. I found a M/W twill pattern with the pull threads pre-defined. I took that and modified it a little, along with the spacing.
Stay tuned to see what happens!
I don't normally do test runs of things I make. I just like to dive into something and hope for the best. More than likely, it comes out just fine. And if not, then that becomes the test piece. It's a win-win.
My newest obsession is shibori, which for those of you who might not know is the Japanese art of resist fabric dying. In the states, tie-dyeing t-shirts is the closest thing we know, taken from one type of shibori (kanoko). Other methods of shibori include: pole wrapped (arashi), pleated (suji), clamped (itajime), and stitched (nui). I could go on and on about this stuff, but today I'll only bore you with the stitched method.
Recently I discovered a book at the library called Woven Shibori which takes this theory and it applies it to the loom. But instead of hand stitching in the thread, I weave it into the cloth. How genius is that?! I'm so fascinated by this that it's taken over my weaving project thoughts. And since I've never done this (not even hand stitched fabric shibori), I have no idea what it's going to do to the fabric. Which is why I decided to do some actual test pieces.
I used some variegated cotton thread that I've had sitting on the shelf for years. I have no clue as to why I bought it. I really hate variegated yarn because it never gives you the result you think you'll get. I figured it would be good practice yarn. I think I was right since the resulting fabric is so ugly.
I decided to go even further with the test piece and even added some wool threads. The plan is to dip the end into boiling water; the hot water should shrink the wool but not the cotton and it should naturally pucker. We'll see how that goes.
So this is what the test piece looked like B.D. (before dyeing):
This is what it looked like A.D. (After Dyeing):
I gave the wool two 5 minute soaks in separate hot water baths. I didn't even add detergent at this point. The first two rinses were so dirty, it didn't seem worth while - the second the bag hit the bucket the water turned the color of mahogany or maybe the color of an espresso with nothing added. And this is after I did some intense skirting on this fleece, so no, there weren't any poop tags or muddy locks. I will spare you the first rinse picture.
Now comes the detergent. I used regular ol' Dawn liquid dish soap because that is what everyone on the interwebs suggested. I guess if it can clean an oily penguin, it can get lanolin out of some locks.
After the last rinse, I let the bags drain then rolled the wool on a towel to get out the excess water, similar to how I would clean a wool sweater. The result? Clean locks! You can still see some VM, but look how white they turned out! I can pick out the big VM, but the rest will (hopefully) come out when I pick and card it.
Today I am dedicating my time to scouring small bits of the wool I received from the infamous sheep shearing.
Set up the fiber drying rack, and I've got my helper side-kick. I think we're ready to go.
Wish me luck.
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| Ooof. |
Unfortunately, I was so in the zone I missed this and part of my fabric is total junk. I guess I also found out our apartment is quite slanted. Wasn't there a How I Met Your Mother episode about this?!?
Last Thursday I went to Connecticut to witness a sheep and alpaca shearing. It was amazing. My mother knows a woman who's family owns a mobile petting zoo. What an sweet idea! They travel around Connecticut doing children's birthday parties, visit nursing homes and other events. They were kind enough to offer me whatever fiber I wanted. How cool is that?!
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| getting ready for a trim! |
Jay from Mariacher Shearing was there and sheared 2 alpaca and 5 sheep. I think if he hadn't actually humored me and answered all my questions he could have done it in under an hour. But we all couldn't stop gabbing. He was quite knowledgable, considering he's been doing this for a very long time and shears over 2,000 animals in a year (I think it's actually closer to 4,000+, but I could be wrong).
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| the fleece comes off all in one "piece" |
What I found most amazing was that the sheep didn't put up much of a fight. I suppose you can't if you're sitting on your bum with your legs in the air, and I'm sure they were nervous, but whatever.
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| all done! |
He was kind enough to skirt the edges for me, which basically means he got rid of all the nasty matted fiber and the stuff that was too short to do anything with.
Sheep produce a substance called lanolin which, we think of as a grease but is actually a wax. This does a variety of different things for the sheep, including keeping the sheep dry in wet weather. It looks and feels like an expensive tan colored grease-hand-lotion-like product which coats the entire fleece. I was amazed at just how much was present. But wow did it make my hands feel supple and soft and was surprised I couldn't detect an odor. Since it was a chilly day, once off the animal the lanolin would harden almost instantly. Between sheep, the shearer had to chip the lanolin off the shearing head with a sharp tool. If he didn't, the clippers would clog to the point of not working.
In the end, I ended up taking two fleeces. One is from - wait for it - the lone black sheep of the family:
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| the matriarch of the small flock |
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| Who's a pretty girl?? |
Unfortunately, I don't have any good pictures of the alpaca shearing. He did them first and I was so in awe that I forgot to take pictures. I took the fiber from those too. How soft and lustrous! I'm excited to learn how to spin it all!
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| Currently obsessed with twills. |
And ready for action. The loom got a much needed tune up - there were a few loose screws and my last weaving piece showed it. Oy. It's better, although I think I need to deal with the front beater. There are some cracks showing and that can never be a good sign...
I have a confession. My attempts at getting truly vibrant colors have been futile as of late. When I mean vibrant, I mean so vibrant that it makes your eyes hurt because the color looks like it's physically moving the medium it's in.
But recently it seems the tides have turned. And of course I didn't even mean to do it. Isn't that always the way? But this neon orange - I'm sorry, we should really call it traffic cone orange - looks pretty awesome. 
Cute, right? His name is Gustav and he and Leonard are shipped off to a new home for some adorable twins I know. He was made from a pattern I found here using the sequin sweater. That magenta material? I found it at IKEA, of all places.
I'd like to think he gives new meaning to spotted pig.
