Summer indulgences

Before I begin this post, I am aware that I have chosen platforms for digital public consumption that are not/no longer popular. Until I figure out where this site will go, thank you for reading.

One month into summer, and my mindset towards creative productivity has progressed from a rushed box checking activity to small daily instances of exercising curiousity about process and what works and what needs to be fixed to become sustainable. I am appreciative of this gift of time to slow down and indulge in small acts of making with natural materials along with investigating how to build mental and physical resilience to carry me through the harried months ahead.

I had no time to find special grass for the summer solstice crown that Josefin Waltin invited her readers to make, as I was still in the weeds of ending the school year. School ended, June 30th arrived and the Clematis macropetala was beginning its overly enthusiastic, rapid botanical encasement of its disproportionately small trellis. Due to rain, the Antennaria rosea flowers had become a mat of bended boughs over their leaf mat base. Still wanting to be a creative participant to this interesting to me-welcome summer ritual and feeling this needed to be properly created before July, I grabbed some clematis vine, mowed down the pussytoes and began bending, weaving, figuring a summer wreath of native and non-native flora. The result:

Create a basic wreath from clematis vine, weave pussytoe stems into spaces and place on a flat, porous surface to dry.
When it dries, you will have a dandelion-like surprise!

Impatience followed me into my solar dying with solidago experiment. On June 15 (before summer!) I carefully hand selected goldenrod blossoms from the small stand being attentively attended by bees. I grabbed a small hank of what I thought was vintage silk – a gift from my mom’s stash – and dutifully mordanted it with kitchen alum. Solar dyeing enthusiasts suggest placing dye material in a bag for convenience and it all went tidily into a small jar which enjoyed sunshine and heat on our window sill for 13 days (until the impatience kicked in). The result was a pale butter yellow colour which turned into a sturdy yarn for spinning (and which I quickly found out from the texture, was mohair!).

The process of solar dyeing is fun and relatively easy.

Today is the last day of July and I would like to say that my summer thus far has been a buzz of creative activity. Instead, I have spun yarn almost every day and feel like I have come closer to solving some life problems, begun to feel rested and currently have a pot of slug chewed Gaillardia aristata leaves simmering on the stove. (I am hypothesizing an uninteresting green natural dye.) The stems of the blanket flower will be grateful nonetheless to be released from the unusually lush bunch of leaves that has been growing with such an unusually wet summer. I guess it teaches me that when we all have a little more space (indulgent or not), we have the ability to do better.

Native *Gaillardia aristata* – Blanket flower. The original plug was purchased from ALCLA native plant nursery several years ago and has struggled doing well in comparably rich soil (and this year: so much precipitation).

Re: tired.

Daily working to be curious about how to put down some of the exhaustive modern ways of thinking and being. Some days are better than others. The days with bits of quiet and quiet creativity embolden me to feel that I have everything I need. The days of exhaustion: a noticing that even restless sleep will bring some clarity the next day to begin the work again.

Building with fibre, even through physical pain, gives me hope and surprisingly: lessens that pain. How much of how we feel is in our minds? If we all worked together to turn away from the insanity of some modern ways of thinking and being and embraced one or two slow practices would we collectively gain some mindful balance? Studies on that are everywhere yet I am also trying to put that down too. Just do, notice, adjust, repeat, with the realization my sphere of influence is a speck (or a spark?!).

Included: three sets of fibre tools that expand the space for creative flow in my yet to be retired aging mind, heart and hands.