Process spring and dripping art

The morning started with a watercolor sketch.  I'm working on developing a new strategy for coming up with colors of dye for my silk.  Lately there have bee lots of analogous colors.  Time to get more artsy.

It's always amazing what happens after I apply dye and the colors begin to drip.  A work of art all their own.  Today I photograph what almost looks an ocean coast topography.  Next time I might press a piece of water color paper on top.

This is the best time of the year for shibori dyeing.  It's nice to be outside and the colors are tender.  The fuchsia of the red buds, the greenest new grass and dog sleeping next to the picket fence creates the ambiance.  The charmeuse and devore silk on this shibori wrapped pole is dyed with two formulas.  One mixture of 1/2 c red orange and 1/4 t turquoise and another of 1/2 c turquoise and 1/4 t red orange.  There's something about adding a little compliment that takes the color to a new intensity.


This fuchsia and purple charmeuse gown finally made her way to Koi Gallery in The Galt House, Louisville, KY.  She's hot, simple and sensuous.  I think it's the perfect time of year for such self expression.

And if you can't get to her check out my etsy.

Green or Greens

Is it the greens we eat or green we wear that empowers us the most?

This green shibori dyed silk charmeuse and devore was unwrapped from the  pole, hung on the clothes line, then transformed via serger and sewing machine for an evening of play and strut.  You can find her at Koi Gallery in the Galt Hotel in Louisville.

 

 Artemisia, old, wise and playful, arrived in a bark beret, brings violets and greens. (The secret ingredient for achieving a powerful menopause).

This gathering, my dear, is the beginning of unknown inquiries. We have no idea what we are going to inquire about. With blue beads in her hair, Honeyrose, the woman I am to become, says, “Our life is not our circumstances, our life is our story.” I gather the Garden Girls to discuss concerns significant not only to our selves but to every weed, tree and shrub that surrounds us.
excerpt from my memoir, The Garden Girls Letters and Journal