Toyon Cowl

Early morning Saturday expressions caught while wearing the toyon neck cowl.  I just finished the piece last night, after starting it during the last phase of our dye class last week.

I used Heidi Iverson’s cowl pattern, and borrowed her incredible circular needles (connected by a tube instead of a plastic string).

I handspun the yarn from Mimi Luebberman’s corriedale cross, West Marin roving– and dyed them in a month old Toyon bath.  This cowl is sooo warm, I feel like my overall body temperature has been raised.  My hands and toes are warm too!

After my afternoon swim– I relish the thought of slipping this cowl around my neck.  Life has improved with this little accessory!

Winter Dyes

The morning began with a 1/2 inch layer of frost on the kale leaves.  The cold was welcome, as it seemed to keep the rain at bay for a couple of days so we could complete our dye work.  We began by preparing alum and tannin baths, followed by a long hike into the watershed to look at coffeeberry and toyon in the wild, and then returned to the dye studio to prepare pre-cut branches that were gathered the day before. Students worked to light fires of the rocket stoves—these are a wonderfully efficient heat source, that bring water to a rapid boil.

The second day we worked with Toyon and Coffeeberry vats we had prepared the day before, as well as older vats of the same species that had been curing for weeks before the class began.  The above vat is an aged toyon that provided lovely orange/rust colors.

This was the fresh coffeeberry vat–made in a copper pot which created variations of yellow and bright khaki greens.

The second day ended with a beautiful array of colors–that came from two beautiful winter harvest species, no modifiers, and only an alum mordant.  The dyes are shown on a superwash merino sock yarn, and a DK weight merino yarn.

Cotton flour sacks were first mordanted in tannin, and then alum.  This pre-mordant combination created strong colors on the cellulose fiber– akin to the colors created on the wool.

Aged toyon, a fresh toyon dye, and a brief dip in the new and old coffeeberry vats are reflected beautifully in these handspun yarns.  The color of our yarns were observed to be the exact shades of the turning maples that framed the garden– yellow-green-and orange.

The third day began with some wonderful knitting instruction, that included a little history along with very clear technical support from Heidi Iverson.  Ball winding was the first order of business, followed by instruction in how to work with circular knitting needles- we cast on, and the knitting began.  More pictures of our winter cowls to come– as they are completed.

The final joy of the workshop was had when our maple prints were unfolded.  After a long dip in the tannins, and an overnight soak in iron—this completely amazing print was unravelled.

Another close-up of the flour sack– turned fine art.  Overall, a wonderful three day dye experience was had..  A time of gathering– for both plant and human, and a time of color.

Local Mordant

With acorns raining on the rooftops–I felt inspired to see how I could put this abundant resource to use in the dye process.  Tan oak bark and shavings have long been known for their role in tanning hides, they were harvested almost to the point of complete decimation in our area.  My intention was to use the renewable part of the tree–the acorn, and make the most of the acorn meat in the process.  Tannin is a non-metallic mordant- and the only mordant that I have found locally available.  It can also be used as a dye–creating shades of light brown when used on its own.

After pounding the acorns with a rock and peeling them, I added them to a food processor to blend them into smaller chunks.  The chunks were placed in a cloth bag.   I let the faucet water drain through them.  I squeezed the bag occasionally to see thick brown water leaching from the acorn meal.  The tannic acid comes out of the acorn in the form of a thick starchy like substance.  At one point after several hours of leaching, the acorns were done- and the water ran clear.  I dehydrated the meal- and saved that for a future batch of acorn cookies.

I had also experimented some time ago with making a mordant from rusty objects– by soaking them in water and vinegar.  Tannins and iron produce lovely shades of gray.

Paige Green Photography

After creating the tannin and rust waters, I put a strip of hemp/cotton fabric into the tannins for a day. I then rolled up the wet tannin mordanted fabric with several maple leaves and put it into the rust water, after a day and a half I unravelled it.

The finished fabric is gray/blue color, and the maple leaf prints turned a very light green.  The joy of making a mordant out of a wild food by-product was such a wonderful revelation.  I will continue with acorn tannin experiments to see the effects on wool with native plant dye colors.  I’ll keep you posted!

Farming Color

A yellow cosmos from the Urban Eagle Herb farm in Youngsville New Mexico

The first yarns that I ever dipped into dye baths, were immersed in madder root, weld, and Indigo—India, Central America and Europe were the landscapes of origin for my dye stuffs.  So much importing for a natural dye seemed paradoxical.  I read, I researched, and eventually, over the years I figured out new ways of localizing my process.  I grow many of my own colors now, and am always looking for a more local source when I do need to purchase a dye stuff.  I was so excited when I discovered Katy Blanchard, and her natural dye and herb farm– Urban Eagle Herb Co., in Youngsville, New Mexico.

Madder Root at the Urban Eagle Farm can yield strong reds

Blanchard was apart of a collaborative project between New Mexico State University, Becky Thorp of Sunstar Herb Farm, and Luz Hernandez of Las Cruces. In 2006 the project was awarded a Western SARE grant to explore the viability of raising dye crops.  They were required to grow cota, Hopi dye sunflower, tansy and weld, plus four other species of their own choice for the particular growing conditions of their area.  Blanchard introduced madder–other plants being grown included woad, coreopsis, cosmos, yellow yarrow, holly hocks, black-eyed Susans, safflower, marigold, alkanet and Mexican sunflower.  Blanchard’s excitement for this project was in part due to her knowledge of the overlapping uses of many of these species–cota for instance is known as Navajo tea (on the Navajo reservation), and is a wonderful digestive aid, and immune system tonic, as well as creating a brilliant yellow and sometimes orange in the dye vat.

Tansy at Urban Eagle Farm- yields yellows

If you go to Blanchard’s Urban Eagle Herb Farm  Website, you can see more pictures of the farm, and the list of available dye materials.  Currently listed dye stuffs are, cota, coreopsis, cosmos, tansy, and madder root.  This year Blanchard sold out of many of her dyes already, so email her directly at info@urbaneagle.com to see what she has available.  She also sells her dyes at the Espanola Valley Fiber Arts Center, in Espanola, New Mexico

Cota at Urban Eagle Farm

I am grateful to Katy Blanchard’s pioneering spirit– and that she is able to offer both her local and greater Western United States community some wonderful home grown dye stuffs.  I hope to see more kindred-dye-growing souls like her in the future.  All these lovely pictures were taken by Blanchard, among her many talents she is also an experienced weaver and knitter.

Mullen- common species that can yield soft greens

Blanchard's mullen dyed skeins

Footprint of a Fiber

It was not long ago, just in my parent’s own childhood when chronicling the carbon footprint of an item of clothing might not have taken very long.  A cotton farm in Texas, a sheep ranch in Wyoming–these raw materials would have been sent to any number of mills across the country and then been sold at  working class stores such Wards and Sears–this small production cycle was not a design concept from a sustainability think-tank, it was simply the way things were done.  With very little discussion or fanfare this supply chain underwent a radical transition.  In 1965, 95% of America’s clothing was made in America, and today less than 5% of our clothing is made here.  Along with the export of farming, milling, and sewing- so went jobs- environmental regulations, and in many cases quality.   Some of the more enlightened transnational clothing companies are in the process of cleaning up their supply chain and are looking deeply into the above issues.  However, this still leaves us with a question of carbon footprint, and might I say jobs?

Our carbon footprint is most simply reduced by making use of what is local.  This is Kenny, an all around sustainability expert, who feeds the grid daily with his solar panels, watches the neighbors deposit their compost for his chickens, and collects oil from local restaurants for his veggie-oil Volkswagon.  He raises food for himself, and shares his garden with others in the community.  Our lives intersected, when I found out from a friend that he was raising sheep just around the corner from my town, in Mill Valley of all places– 10 minutes from the Golden Gate Bridge.  Kenny’s farm has been in the family since 1867  the old house is still lived in by his mother.  Kenny primarily harvests meat from his flock, however, being an open-minded man of many trades–he wants to make the most of the wool that he shears.

At the moment, the process of turning Kenny’s wool into a hat, sweater, or pair of gloves– is still around the corner.  What we have established is a relationship.  And that, is the cornerstone of the localization process.  As we seek out resources within our towns and cities we meet people, we hear their stories, and become increasingly more in synch with our modern village.  This community building is one of many benefits of doing good for our planet.  I’m just now on the path to turn the above fleece into something a bit more palatable for my local textile creation project.

This is an example of a roving ball–just ripe for spinning.  This lovely wool is from a rancher living 20 miles from my home (just over double the distance I travel to Kenny’s suburban farm).  I will send Kenny’s wool off to a mill for processing, if all goes well, it will return to me as a very spin-able ball of roving like the one pictured above.

From this ball of roving, I will spin away on my little wheel, and create skeins of ready to dye yarn.  Once the yarn is spun I will partake in the process that I often highlight in this blog- the creation of local natural color. If all goes according to plan, I will become one step closer to my local clothing vision.  I’m estimating the CO2 footprint of my finished yarn, and knit clothing will net far beneath the weight of the yarn itself.

Handspun Yarns dyed in summer blooming plants

This is a huge reduction in carbon, if compared to even the best case scenario for industrially produced clothing.  Patagonia- my favorite and most transparent clothing company has recently created the Carbon Chronicles. If you click on the link, you’ll see that their wool merino undershirt produces 47 pounds of carbon before it even gets to your door.  That is just one shirt!  And yet, I applaud Patagonia for their ongoing commitment to preserving the earth’s last wild places– they are a fabulous company with a wonderful mission.  It’s going to take more than a village to clean up textile production– and in my personal and small way I’m committed to doing so, one ball of yarn at a time.

Time for Toyon

Toyon is a year-round favorite at dye workshops, yet it is truly the fall and winter prunings that make the strongest vats.  This tall shrub produces bright red berries at this time of year, that last well into the late winter.  They are hard, loved by birds, and with some roasting can be eaten by humans too.  The plant appears to have more pigment within its stems in the colder months.  Pruning back the suckers, and gangly stems is one method of collecting for the dye pot, without taking the berries (these aren’t needed to make dye.)

Here is the plants hearty autumn leaves, and if you look closely you can see the red pigment that is traveling up through the stems and through veins.  This pigment is what yields these rusty orange tones on the wool.

This color was produced in a stainless steel vat, and is perfect for the season.  It would make a lovely neck cowl, or cozy hat.  The longer the leaves and stems soak for, the stronger the color seems to be.  Because of the heartiness of many of the native species, it requires time, and some periodic heat to release the desired color.  Without this long processing time, Toyon produces a range of yellows.

Coffeeberry & Copper

Coffeeberry  is a late autumn and winter bloomer, providing food for the birds, and dye material for the natural dye vat.  Without the presence of copper, Coffeeberry produces a very pale yellow.  Yet, there was something about the quality of the yellow that did inspire me– and I felt that with the influence of a copper vessel, I could easily green the tone.  I experimented with this several years ago in a borrowed pot- and was very pleased with the results.

An old farm sale out in the Valley last weekend provided me with these two exquisite copper pots.  In some ways I am still in awe of this find, I’ve been waiting many years to source just the right copper pot, at just the right price– and voila– it finally arrived into my life.

Here is a picture of the skeins amongst my little coffeeberry plant.  It has grown in the shadiest part of the garden with success.  I have four coffeeberry plants in the native garden, they will likely reach 10-12 feet if I allow them to grow that height.  I can keep them small and shrub like, by pruning for my dye vat.

The handspun corriedale cross yarn comes across vibrantly in the morning sun.  In true life color– they are much greener than this.

Viable Indigo

I’ve sent out and distributed to at least 30 seed packets to a range of those interested in starting their own dye gardens.  One pertinent question came in from a reader in New York- regarding seed viability.  She had experienced many unsuccessful Indigo seed germinating trials.  I realized it would be a good idea to do a more in depth viability study on my seed, so that I could be very clear with people about what I was sending them!  One other important bit to understand in relation to germination of this seed, is that you must use it when it is fresh- within the year that you receive it is best.

The good news- that I am so happy to share, is that after taking samples of seed from a range of the plants (both pink and white flowering), and testing in them in various conditions (under a heat lamp + seed heat mat, as well as using the kitchen window sill), the seed germinated with approximately 90% viability.  If you received seed– keep it in your refrigerator until it is planting  time (this is regionally specific).  In my area I plant my annuals indoors in the late winter, and early spring for a summer harvest.

I received the most lovely cards, letters, handmade paper, and envelopes from some of the seed buyers– I must thank you all for the creativity and beauty that you shared with me.  I will keep them forever, as a testament to the beginning of this journey I have begun as a harvester and disperser.  The other wonderful news, is that there is so much more than I expected. My plants went into real production mode this last summer, and I have enough seed it seems to dye the entirety of my neighborhood’s clothing blue.  If you would like seed-there is more!

Native Seed

Judith Larner Lowry: Paige Green Photography

I took a visit to the source of my emerging home dye garden– Larner Seed Company in Bolinas California.  A place so ecologically stimulating it requires repeat visits at different times of the year to begin to understand the beauty of the indigenous landscape that has been lovingly created and tended. Upon entering, Paige Green the wonderful photographer– asked, ‘is this what it would look like in the wild? it is so perfect.’  The answer to that question emerged later on, when we met up with Judith Larner Lowry– author, restoration gardener, and native seed purveyor.

Local Poppy Variety: Paige Green Photo

As we walked past the sculpted coyote brush, ceanothus, and California sagebrush in our tour with Judith, the answer to Paige’s question surprised us– ‘no, it was not pruned that way, that is the way it grows,’ Judith explained.  There were of course varying degrees of tending that went on in various parts of the garden.  I had just missed the figwort pruning- (a wonderful dye plant). While we were there we helped cut back some native hazelnut.  Human’s intervening and tending native flora is not an invention of the restoration gardener– in fact the restoration gardener seeks to mimic the tending practices of old– the work of those who tended with fire, digging sticks, knocking sticks, seed beating baskets, and of course hands.  In our area these are the people we know as the Coast Miwok, and the Kashaya Pomo– the original stewards.

Paige Green Photography

As a natural dyer– I made a conscious choice to work with and use the native plants as my source of color.  I knew that using them for dyes would inevitably bring me closer to understanding their intricacies, and the ecosystem for which they are essential members. Coyote brush, sage, and sticky monkey flower have been planted in every garden I’ve had a hand in making.  The native plants grow vigorously, and yet harmoniously, this is a perfect blend for the natural dye maker.  We rely on an abundance of growth to fill our dye vats, and the variety of species is important to achieve a range of color.

Native Plant Starts: Paige Green Photo

I grew and am growing many of my dye plants from seed. Having Larner Seed Company practically in my backyard is a blessing. If you live in the bay area, I highly recommend a visit.  The demonstration garden is open Tuesday and Thursday 10-2, and Saturday 12-4. The onsite seed cottage has a collection of native seed that is a true feast to behold. There are some lovely books and various well chosen garden tools as well.  If you live a bit farther away you can click here for the website- Larner Seed Company

The Bolinas Variety of Coyote Brush

Growing Color

Paige Green Photography: Gospel Flat Farm Bolinas

The cultivation of natural color, is a process that I feel committed to take part in for all of my living days.  Making color from renewable, natural materials leads me deeper into the ecosystem with each new dye-yielding plant that I discover.  I made a new discovery rather recently– (new to me), using Zinnia’s.  This colorful favorite of gardeners never attracted my focus before, until I ventured to Gospel Flat Farm in Bolinas, California.  It was at this beautiful creekside organic farm, that I became inspired to give Zinnias some attention.

Although we are well into October, this coastal farm was growing Zinnias, while simultaneously harvesting pumpkins and butternut squash.  The young farmers allowed me to harvest my own bouquets, giving me a chance to spend some time in the beautiful rows of vibrant color– where marigold, zinnias, and foxgloves abounded.  I used predominantly red zinnias- the bouquet was enjoyed in my kitchen before entering the dye vat.

The beauty of Zinnia’s in the dye pot, inspired the instantaneous question, ‘why would you make color any other way?’  Natural dye making is just so incredibly beautiful– every nook and cranny of the process brings joy.

Paige Green Photography

The outcome was  like butter cream, with a gentle luster to it.  While it is well known how many yellow tones are in the world of natural dyes- what I find so astonishing, is how well trained my eye has become for ‘yellow’.  I’ve become a connoisseur of yellows, and very discerning over what plant will give me just the right shade for the job.  I am very appreciative of the Zinnia flower, it is now one more plant to add to the dye garden.  At this point I am actively looking for more ground to tend- my dye garden would like to expand!

Yarn for the Fall

 

Native Twist

This yarn was created from Daisy’s fleece, a lovely sheep raised in the Redwood Valley in Mendocino.

It was spun for the new sustainable Fairfax retail space. Their open house was yesterday.

I dyed the roving in Coyote Brush, Coffeeberry, Toyon, and Hinsii Walnut then spun it with a little alpaca from a woman in Missouri (my spinning teacher).  This yarn is soo soft, and I just thought it was a seasonally appropriate combination of colors.  

 

Andrew and I at the Sustainable Fairfax Open House.  A very good atmosphere, of apple cider in glass mugs, organic food, music, and great speakers.  Pam is seen here introducing the center to the group.

 

             

Place for the young artist to create in the Sustainable Fairfax Backyard.

Keeping Warm

 

I’m experiencing a hat making fetish, as of the last several days.  This one is the most playful of them all-in every way, from its color combinations to vintage buttons.. The blue yarn is local wool, handspun, and dyed in my fermentation Indigo vat.  The little stripe of multi-color, is from my handspun rainbow yarn. This yarn is spun from a naturally dyed multi-color batt that I make and sell-( you can check out the rainbow batts in my shop.)  The orange/yellow stripe at the base is from a machine spun local wool dyed in Native Toyon. (This Toyon dyed yarn is being sold in an autumn color bundle on Etsy at the moment).   The bright pink ear warmers, which are key for keeping this hat on, were knit from a local wool dyed in cochineal.  Young students of mine dyed this yarn during a Central American natural dye class.  

This little hat is a gift.  I made it to uniquely reflect the little person who will be wearing it.

 

 

Softly Autumn

 

This hat receives my award for best texture.  It is so so soft. Hand-spun local angora wool, blended with a gray cashmere.  It feels cloud-like.  The little man modeling began to smile when we put it on.  I think I would to.

Unexpected Harvest

I was traveling today to pick up some raw materials for a Green Halloween celebration.  I stopped into the Dharma Trading Co. in downtown San Rafael, to pick up some un-dyed silk.  While in their small parking lot, surrounded by empty cardboard boxes, trash, and broken concrete, I spied seven crows, dancing around the remains of a brown walnut husk.  Above this crow dance, in the corner of the degraded concrete lot, was a black walnut tree poking through the cement.  It had dropped hundreds of the biggest black walnuts I’ve ever seen.  No exaggeration.  I’ve been scouring my neighborhood for months picking up bits and pieces of husk- crumbs left from the squirrels and crows. Only a fraction of what I needed to create those deep browns.  Now I have enough to dye several pounds of wool.

 

Nature always puts the antidote in the most needed and obvious places.  The store parking lot where this tree has made its home, is the exact location where hundreds of pounds of synthetic petroleum based dyes are sold, just feet from the base of this grand harvest.  Black Walnut husks create the strongest, most colorfast chestnut browns.  No need for petroleum, or its toxic distillation and extraction process.

Black Walnut skeins are sitting at the base of pile, they are soft brown.  Mixed together with Coyote Brush yellow, orange toyon, and green coffeeberry.

Black Walnut Recipe:  (there are many recipes, this is only one method)

2 1/2 Gallons of Fresh Black Walnuts with Green Husk on.

15 oz. wool (mordanted)  

Water to cover Walnuts

Boil Walnuts with husks on for two hours, soak overnight.  Add water if needed to give enough room for the yarn.  Add pre-soaked yarn. Simmer two hours, let sit for two days.  Simmer another hour.  Cool a few hours. Rinse.  Dry in the shade.

My Turn

I just finished dressing the loom, and began creating the image that has been in my mind for months now. After collecting the right local wool, and the right Canadian hemp.  I began dying the yarns last April.  With the help of many young children from the Canal Alliance after school program, and the Pickleweed Center.

We used Toyon, Coyote Brush, Coffeeberry, and Coastal Sage as dyes.  We dyed many skeins together.   Most of these yarns were used by the children to create their own weaving projects.  After many months it is now my turn to weave.  My soul could not be happier.  

As an educational therapist for children, and as a guest teacher and consultant educating about sustainable art materials and restoration art gardens, my life has mainly been about giving.. a lot of giving.  So much so, that my own art has not been given the time it deserves.  Being at my loom again today was as cathartic an experience as I have had in memory.  I am so grateful for this time, it is the most precious gift.

Green Halloween

 

Stirring the Toyon Pot

Today was Green Halloween at Sustainable Fairfax.  It was a lovely event- with an outstanding recycled art materials table, live music, and native plant natural dyes.  A Coyote Brush and Toyon bath were present. Children made silk capes for their costumes.  

 I caught these friends on their way out of the event.  They had made their coyote bush capes, and attached decorated cups to them, so they could carry their treats with their hands free.  A very clever idea.  

Another Coyote Bush cape, being pulled from the vat.

Native Wool, Native Color

Native Wool from the Redwood Valley- a gorgeous organic merino fleece was the foundation for this hat.  I washed, and dyed portions of the fleece in Toyon, Pokeberry, and Coyote Brush..  After dying it, I combed it all together, hand-spun it, and then knit and crocheted it into being.  I used pokeberry and toyon dyed fleece and felted it together to make the wildflower adornment.

Madder Root Shoes

These madder root booties are made from vegan silk and are lined with organic cotton and hemp.  Dyed with- as the name says, madder root.  The sheen of the silk is gorgeous in the dappled light of our sun room.  We had one or two minutes of sun, and I was able to catch it, just before the clouds returned.

These shoes are for little ones- 0-3 months, and can be found on the Eco-Arts Etsy site.

Toyon Textiles

This is the time of year for the Toyon Berry.  It is vibrantly red and contrasts the newly emerging green of sage and sticky monkey flower, both of which have been dormant for many months.  

The rains have brought to life such a variety of green tones to our watershed.  My friend and I went into the hills today.  I photographed her wearing her Toyon dyed hemp organic cotton fleece wrap-around.  She is keeping warm with a local wool hand-knit scarf, that boasts 5 different native plant dyes, and a cochineal stripe.  (Oaxacan Cochineal).. The wrap-around and scarf are on the Etsy shop, and I recommend checking out my matching baby kimono’s.  They are pretty cute.  

Winter Dye Day

 

It has been a while, as ecological arts processes have been focused on indoor activities this season- I haven’t been making a whole lot of art outdoors.  However that all changed recently, and first dye day of 2009 took place, on a very cold frosty winter morning.  Thank you Mia, Sky, and the home school crew for your interest and playful participation.  Thank you Sky for these gorgeous pictures.  Fortunately, the cold was met with the almond smelling steam of the Toyon bath, and the sage smell of the Artemesia californica to keep us warm and cozy.  

 We used a shibori pattern making technique with the use of marbles, rubber bands, and tongue depressors.  This piece was carefully made with many many marbles, getting them on the fabric and off the fabric was a community effort.

Our front yard art show, the yellow of California Sagebrush made a lovely striped scarf with a series of tongue depressors used for the pattern.  Diamonds inside of diamonds were created with marbles and rubber bands.  It was a beautiful collection to see all together.

Native Weave

Due to a lovely cloud cover and a nice dose of rain, the light was diffused enough to bring out my just completed native kimono.  This piece was photographed at the Windrush farm barn- in the Chileno Valley, where inside lay baby lambs and their mothers.  The weft of this kimono can be attributed to the Windrush farm sheep and their so soft fleeces.  

This mother had just given birth yesterday in the pasture.  One of her newborn twins rests in the background.  She was so peaceful and focused on me as I took this picture of her.

 

All of the dyes for this piece were dyed in native plants collected within 5 miles of my home.  Toyon berries and leaves are shown here.  The toyon dyed the wool consistently into this rusty orange color.

All the yellows in this piece can be attributed to the fragrant and soft branches of California sagebrush. With some help from Coyote brush.

And here’s the famous all purpose Coyote brush.  It can dye plant and animal fibers alike, creating a gold and mustard tones of yellow.

This coffeeberry held the most surprising secret, by dying my wool weft into shades of khaki and sage green.  I was thrilled with this color, as it rounded out the spectrum of oranges and yellows, and played off the beige of the hinsii walnut, creating shades of earth tones, that are not easily expressed in words.  The last plant gift came from hinsii walnut.  I could not photograph the walnut husk unfortunately- because all of my walnuts are soaking currently in a moldy bucket of water- waiting to become dye.  Although it could not be photographed, I would like to thank it in word, for its dark browns, shades of beige, and for its strength and color fastness. 

End of Winter Blues

 

 A rustic indigo kimono, made for a newborn Boston baby…  I just finished several of these this week, which is unusual.  Blue really still is, the favorite color for newborn baby boys.  

I’m in complete support of the choice of blue, I think there is nothing sweeter than a little one, all cozied up in fuzzy organic cotton/ hemp fleece, all dyed in natural Indigo.  This kimono is a perfect garment for the end of winter days that we are now in.

As I sit at my sewing machine with my down jacket on, sewing this deep rich blue fabric, I think of warmer places I have been, where water and air meet in perfect balance, in a humidity that can really test you, and also slow you down, enough to appreciate and consciously deliberate every movement you make.   These places where the body slows, are where Indigo can really grow.  And where I have seen and worked in vats that are over 75 years old.  

This is a series of vats in Northern Thailand.  I went to this village, on the border of Thailand and Vietnam, hoping to uncover the enigmatic fermentation Indigo process.   These vats are in a line, so that the artisans can dip in one vat, air the yarns, and then dip into the next vat.  It allows many women to work together in a rhythm of dunking, pulling,dripping, blue, slow walking, meditation.

Here is Ju, the woman who inherited the Indigo studio from her mother.  A devout Theravada Buddhist.  She is walking on the most beautiful iron orange soil I have ever seen.  Her clothes are from the cotton she grows, dyed in the indigo vats that she creates from her own plants, woven on the looms that you see throughout the village.  The women sit under their teak huts in the hot moist summer  air, and gently throw their shuttles across their looms, in a click and swoosh, back and forth.  I think about the warmth, companionship, artistic fulfillment, ecological sustainability, and love that exists within the everyday motions and actions of this Indigo and weaving collective, and I wonder- is that possible here?  

I’d like to think so.  The thought begins to thaw the wintery ice that landed on my heart, upon leaving that village.  It is now six days until the equinox, and 6 days before I move my own Indigo starts from the indoors into the little green house I’ve made for them in the yard- a miniature Thailand!

The Beginning of Yarn

After the sheep have been sheered, the fleece is sent off for washing and combing.  If the mill just washes and combs the wool, it is sent back to the rancher as roving.  I like to start with roving for all intensive yarn making purposes.  I can dye pieces of it into a myriad of colors, and then spin them together for what becomes the most appealing skein of yarn.  Today I had in mind the blossoms of spring.  The mustard blooms in the fields, and soft pink cherry blossoms, for these color inspirations, I used wild sage and cochineal dye vats.

The cochineal created a lovely powder pink on this incredibly soft merino and corriedale cross roving.  With these batches of spring color, I am beginning to formulate my new spring yarns.  I am inspired by the deep blue sky, spotted by bursting navy and gray rain clouds, contrasting brilliant green grass, wild yellow mustard, and pink blossoms…  I still have a day or so of dying left before I can achieve all the colors in my vision.  Tomorrow morning, I’ll be dipping into my indigo vat…

Grassy Undertones

As I study the grasses, I find more than green.  In visioning my spring yarn, I am drawn to include an unexpected color- orange.  Normally apart of the fall color scheme, I am seeing it everywhere.  As the grasses mature, and seed, a band of orange appears in the wetland fields.  I thought today would be about blues, and rain filled cloud colors- and I thought I’d be using my fermentation indigo vat.  But before I move onto the colors of the sky, I am held by the colors of earth for one more day.

Today was toyon branches, and cochineal bugs, these two dye vats together helped me achieve this lovely orange on combed wool, or roving.   An honest interpretation of the grasses I am observing in the wetlands.  Yesterday it was powder pink (cochineal), and a soft mustard flower yellow (sage), I am using plant dyes to describe every jaw-dropping color scheme I see as I drive down the country roads, and even the I-80 freeway.

The deep, rain-filled cloud blues have been achieved. Logwood shavings, and my fermentation Indigo vat, together, have created a range of blues and deep purples. To compliment the deep stormy sky colors, I used cochineal and toyon to create the range of pinks I see in the cherry blossoms, native mallow, and fringed checkerbloom.  Every blossom is bursting, every bee is circling… time to leave the computer, and go back outside.

Blooming Spring Yarns

Dye baths of logwood, indigo, wild sage, wild toyon, wild coyote brush, and cochineal were all used on local organic wool roving from Windrush farm. These pieces of roving can be seen in the last several posts in their raw state.  This yarn is my interpretation of numerous spring landscapes, filled with both indigenous and non-indigenous plant life. Driving home from the central valley I was in awe of the yellow mustard carpeting the base of the cherry trees, now in plumes of soft pink blossoms.  As I drove home through the wetlands, I saw the orange strips of seeding grasses striped with light and yellow greens.  All the while the sky transitioned between purple, dark and light blue as the sun set.  Arriving home, I walked out into the garden we have inherited, and are in the process of transitioning into a little food farm.  The flat bit of earth we call our backyard is now teeming with mallow, mint, ranunculus, rosemary blossoms, and lemon balm.  

These plants were the source of the clippings that adorn the yarn.  The complexity of one untended bit of ground astounds me. People have come and gone from the home we rent, leaving traces of their botanical preferences amongst the volunteers of dandelion, wild oat, and mallow. The birds have their landscaping ideas as well. The blue jays burry acorns, the finches leave droppings filled with various annual grass seed. The wind inevitably takes part each season, in choosing which japanese maple seeds will make it from the neighbors tree, into our yard, or which variety of dock seed will end up germinating in between the cracks of the cement. All of these forces act as a team to keep the earth green, and the soil protected.  I attempt, each year to utilize the work of the birds, wind, soil, to find new sources of color inspiration, and at times, I am fortunate to find a new dye recipe out of the collage of new growth.  

Color, Land and Flora

Idaho Fescue frames the foreground of a set of skeins drip drying in the side yard.  This side of the house is 9 feet wide, and 40 feet long, and adorned completely with natives many of them dye plants.  I’ve planted california sage, coyote brush, sticky monkey flower, figwort and mugwort, to frame the pathway, so their fragrant limbs reach out as I walk past.

I finished the dye work just as the sun was setting behind the tall incense cedar in the neighbors yard.  This lot of skeins were generously dyed with the help of native toyon, coyote brush, and walnut, an imported indigo, logwood, and cochineal.

From left to right, on my handspun local wool yarns….Coyote brush; Toyon; Cochineal; and Logwood.  The plant species from California yield colors familiar to our summer grasslands, and chaparral hillsides.  The cochineal reflects the pink of the prickly pear cactus, where so many cochineal insects spent their whole lives eating.  Logwood’s rich purples have the character of a warmer climate, a more tropical locale- in this case, the Dominican Republic.

Japanese Indigo for the Garden

Indigo, one of two plant species I know of that can create rich blues, unlike any blues I know, other than those hues I see in the sky and sea. In my garden there is a a 10ft. long mound of rich soil, covered in rice straw, that now houses the Indigo starts.  They’ve made there way to the outside, now that the risk of frost has past.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This crop should provide several dye vats this summer.  I will likely use a fermentation vat, as I have in the past.  A traditional recipe, that can last for many months of dyeing. Japanese Indigo while native to Japan, seems to be enjoying the misty Spring we are having.  The humidity of recent weather, has sent large leaves into the sky, and a few pink flowers are beginning to emerge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The organic wool for these skeins, is from West Marin.  The raw wool was dyed in fermentation indigo, and some of it overdyed in the native coyote brush.  The blend that I spun together, reminds me of the changing blues and greens of Tomales Bay.  I call this set of skeins, Natural Sea.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Indigo applied to animal fibers is exquisite.  Wool and silk, are both accepting takers of the plant dye.  These silk kimono booties, were made with peace silk from India, and then dyed in my fermentation indigo vat.  This silk is created from the cocoons of silk worms that have been allowed to escape.  Traditional silk practice is to boil the cocoon with the worm still alive. These booties are lined with an organic hemp and cotton fleece.

Escapades with Poke

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pokeberry is a native to the Northeast of the United States. It is, for most land tenders- a most easy plant to grow. Here in California, I found one good source of Pokeberry at the California School of Herbal Studies. Last July, I scooped up all the berries I could, and brought them home to make dye. I got a range of extraordinary oranges in a mid-summer dye vat. I saved hundreds of seeds from this vat, and planted them in the fall in small peat pots. I waited, and waited. Nothing. I tried again, and planted many more seeds, and waited and waited. After researching numerous protocols- I found out, one must poke pokeberry seeds, with a needle or pin, prior to planting.  I sat down, attempting to get my needle through the slick and rounded hard shells of the 2mm length seeds, they shot themselves all over the floor.  I did have several successes.  And, now- in the heart of May, I’m admiring my baby Pokeberrie plants, adorning my outdoor sewing studio.  I am looking forward to this years dye vat. 

  

Pokeberry from last summer’s berry vat. on corriedale cross roving from West Marin, and two-ply organic yarn from the same ranch.

Spring Green

These may be the only shoes that balance so well on a kale leaf- and they look right at home doing so. These Coyote Brush Booties were made for a little one in Manhattan Kansas. I believe he is either just arrived, or immediately on the way. These booties were dyed in coyote brush, and also in my fermentation indigo vat. They are made of Tussah silk, and organic cotton and hemp fleece. The green obtained from this combination of plant dyes, fits in just perfectly the prolific variety of greens in the garden. We are growing a bed of black Tuscan kale in our spring stirfry bed. It is a delectable heirloom variety I began from seed in the mid-winter, seed can be purchased from J.L. Hudson seed catalog, it is an easy variety to grow. It has been adapting well to the warmer temperatures.

These are our little kale seedlings almost ready for the ground. We have been eating greens happily now for over a month. I find them so tender, I can even eat them raw, with a bit of lemon juice and salt.

Madder Root Felt

My friend Mia generously shared lunch with Andrew and I, in our emerging food garden today. We topped off our organic greens, with some very sweet watermelon. Mia modeled and kindly allowed me to take some pictures of this new madder root felted piece. She looks so natural in felt- I love it!

Experimenting with madder root- I have found that it is still a rather unpredictable dye. I have achieved some of the most exquisite reds, from wine red, to the brightness of a flame. From the same recipes I have also achieved the softest salmon pinks, and delicate oranges. Madder is grown extensively in India, and throughout Turkey and parts of the middle east. I wonder if the alteration in color, is about the soil and water that the root is grown in, more than it is a variable in my dyeing process? Every batch I get, is likely from a different farm.

This is an example of the flame like red achieved from a slightly different batch of madder root- but using the same recipe as I always use. This red shows off nicely next to the California Sage dyed skien. All handspun on Point Reyes wool. I’m so curious if anyone has any comments on madder root, and would care to share their stories? This dye root is such a wonderful enigma.

Native Plant Dyers

Today at the California School of Herbal Studies a group of really fabulous individuals took part in native plant natural dyeing. Experimenting with Horsetail, Sage, Coyote Brush, Sticky Monkey Flower, Walnuts, Toyon, and Bee Plant, we came up with a range of colors on wool, silk, and cotton. The wool, and silk were mordanted with alum only, the cotton with black oak tannins.
The wool and silk were by far more successful in accepting color than our cotton swatches.

The school is a wonderful place, meticulously kept, and hosts an incredible garden of medicinal herbs. Outside of the garden we walked along the dirt road, and found growing in their native plant communities- all of our dye species, with the exception of coastal sage.

The creativity of this group was something special. Their positivity, inquisitiveness, and passion were an inspiration to me. I can see each one of them taking their new skill, and their emerging ideas, and creating extraordinary art- and functional attire.

In Gratitude, I thank you all for coming and sharing your lovely selves!

Madder of Fact

Salmon root is what I might call it. I’ve been working with madder for a week now, exhausting each dye vat to see what magical colors will emerge. I’ve explored red, pink, and orange, the warm spectrum. On these foggy northern California spring days, it is refreshing to work with warm tones. I used the Windrush farm corriedale cross wool, which has an easy and workable fiber length, and blended it with a very short kid mohair fiber. I wanted a chunky and artistic yarn. To do this I spun uncombed locks of the mohair tightly into the corriedale. The yarn is strong, and I think will make a unique head adornment.

I’ve kept the kid mohair in my special fiber closet, due it being fully loved by our cat Marmalade. Today he tried once again to nestle into it. He loves fiber, almost as much as I do.

For fiber in the North of San Francisco bioregion- <a href=”http://www.fiberfestival.com/Fiber%20Festival/Home.html”>

I highly recommend attending this year’s event, it is a lot of fun!

Solstice Garden

My art making process in the spring and summer is as much about gardening as it is sewing, spinning, dye making, and weaving. The art and the earth-tending intertwine and receive equal amounts of my attention, time, and care. I am growing my art materials, and those plants I may not use as dyes, remain as pure inspiration to the art pieces I will create this season. A newly arrived calendula bloom in the morning sun is an example of pure color bliss. This plant also offers itself kindly to healing bruises, swelling, cuts and scratches, as well as being extraordinarily complex and beautiful. I soak blossoms in almond oil, and apply the oil to whatever ails the skin. This plant along with all the others in our garden began as a handful of seeds, and a few elderly red potatoes from the fridge. We laid down a lot of horse manure on what was barren soil, in January. In late March the soil was soft enough to put a shovel into.

A potato blossom, from our potato patch. We simply planted small red potatoes in the ground several months ago, and now we have a large almost tropical looking series of plants now covered with purple blossoms. We will harvest potatoes about three weeks after the blooms have faded.

Heirloom akira sunflowers now rise 8ft tall above the ground. Getting them to that height required some mighty protective measures. Lots of slug removal, cayenne pepper deterrent, and soapy spray to keep harmful insects off.

The inside scoop of the sunflower, and at some point this will be filled with delicious seeds. The chickadees are already landing on it’s hearty branches to prey on insects, in several months they’ll have much more to feed on.

And the beautiful Japanese Indigo flowers. The plants are now 8″ tall and ready for their first harvest. I’ll be preparing the dye this week, stay tuned!

The found rocking chair. A roadside find, now sits, repaired in our little garden. A perfect place to sit and watch bees, butterflies, and plants growing. There is so much activity from sun up to sun down, always a plethora of things for the creatures to do, and experience. I highly recommend creating a food garden. It is an incredibly therapeutic and magical experience, and completely worth the effort. That effort varies depending on where you live, your soil, and your fence or lack thereof. We began with little, just some horse manure, old bricks, many seeds, tree mulch, and rice straw- and six months later, we couldn’t be happier.

Photos taken by Andrew Fynn, garden tender, husband, and photographer.

Yellows of Summer

It was so warm today. Napping felt appropriate, after a morning of working with the hot steamy dye vats. After arising from a rather long afternoon slumber, the sun was going behind the tall incense cedar, and I took a moment to honor California Sage. These skeins, one handspun, the other a machine spun merino, were both dyed in Artemesia Californica, or commonly known as California Sage. This is the soft gray shrub the skeins are sitting in. I enjoy seeing the dyed yarn, right next to the plant which yields the color. This is actually the way I learn my native plant species- by using them, and understanding their properties. I collected sage at my friend Judith’s garden, Judith also happens to be an incredible harvester of native seed. I recommend her seed company, Larner seed, (especially the hillside wildflower mix). . www.larnerseeds.com

My last post highlighted our garden specifically- the job of the following posts will be to document my process emulating the colors of the garden in my dye vats. The yellows of the sunflowers are still intoxicating, and are, of course the inspiration for this morning’s yellow sage dye vat. I take many trips each day to watch the sunflower tilt its large head towards the direction of the sun. I wonder how it stays so strong in the heat, when all I want to do is wilt.

If you have pictures of your garden, or color inspiration from nature you’d like to share, I’d love to see more blog entries on this subject. Or send me your pictures in an email. These color palettes from the environment are my creative fuel. Leave me a comment with your links.

Logwood Lavender

I am currently chronicling the beauty of summer color in the garden, with the naturally dyed yarns emerging from my dye vats. What an incredible thrill as I pulled out these skeins from the logwood dye bath! This rich purple, much deeper than a lavender really, was obtained through one day of soaking and heating the logwood bark chips. I highly recommend Cheryl Kolander’s logwood source check out Aurora Silk. She works with the people of the Dominican Republic to source her logwood. Her project is focused on creating sustainable and thriving incomes for the indigenous Indios peoples. A population of people recently thought to be extinct. I absolutely love the project, and the logwood is like no other. Do give the dye a try!

This handspun skein was made from Mimi Luebberman’s lovely corriedale cross roving. It is hearty and yet so soft. She sells her rovings, and naturally dyed yarns each Saturday at the Point Reyes farmer’s market. I recommend paying her a visit. Today I chose to use our food garden as my setting. The skeins sit on heirloom pumpkin leaves, framed by Italian Chicory flowers. The Italian Chicory is decidedly one of the most medicinal plants in our garden. It is cleansing to the liver, the kidneys, and appears to help with weight loss as well. It is very strong and qualifies as bitter, for sure. But sauteed with onion and kale, its delicious.
If you have the desire for chicory seed, drop me a comment, ours is almost ready!

Feast of Green Fennel

Fennel is a plant with a sordid reputation. Known for being high end real estate for several of the Lepidoptera species butterflies, ladybird beetles, white and golden crown sparrows, garter snakes and rodents.. It is also viewed as the godzilla, of invasive species, displacing native wildflowers, and homogenizing ecosystems. All of this appears to be true of the plant, and to add to its many functions- I recently discovered that with the use of an iron mordant, this plant makes the most excellent green dye!

In viewing many roadside stands today, I observed fennel growing in every nook of available turf, even pushing out some of the more hardy natives- commonly known as bee plant, and mugwort. The native flower- Perideridia kelloggii, that once hosted the Lepidoptera butterflies, was no where to be seen. There are so many factors contributing to the success of fennel, that I have no distaste for the plant itself, it is only responding to the conditions it has come to grow in.

California soils have dried, due to the loss of perennial grasses, that once blanketed the landscape, keeping in water, and holding back the effects of erosion. These perennials have been replaced by annual grasses that dry out only weeks after the last rainfall- hence, the golden hills of California. Our waterways have been re-routed, and drained to make way for roads, homes, and agriculture. The changes we have made, and the level of disruption caused to the ecosystem, it seems only natural that a plant as virulent as fennel would take root, a plant so hardy it can grow in almost any soil. While it can act as a band-aid, it can also function to take over diverse ecosystems, whose soils and water are still in tact.

I am still wondering a bit about the impact of harvesting fennel. While I would very much like to see less of it, and have it replaced with native wildflowers and bunchgrasses, I know that it’s existence plays a role in the life of many insects, and for this reason, I am unable to commit to wholesale destruction with my harvesting. Yet, I will never propagate this plant in my garden, like I do the native dye plants. I will remain a roadside harvester of fennel. My follow-up harvest will include clay balls filled with perennial native grass and wildflower seed- so where ever I remove fennel, I will leave a gift behind.. I’ll keep you posted on
this process!

The Horse’s Tail

Eco-Color Files

This primordial plant has always mystified me, as it’s origins predate every seeding plant on the planet. It has been around for 400 million years. If only it could tell the rich and incredible story of its time here on earth! This dye process was an attempt to unearth the secrets that lie within its hollow stock, and soft spines.

While harvesting horsetail, I noticed its rough ridges, and delicate spines, I could almost see in this small stalk the once tall tree-like ancestor it came from. For thousands of years, humans used horsetail as sand paper, and likely it was used medicinally. Its mineral content is high, and is most well known for healing urinary tract infections. When you find a stand of horsetail, it is generally quite large, it grows like a ground cover when it finds an area it likes, which is generally seasonally wet sandy soils. It can pop up like a forest, of light and airy stalks, leaving little room for anything else to grow.

Like its unique status among plants, it is no wonder it yields the most unique and unexpected color imaginable. A light rose, emerged from the steaming dye vat, after several days of preparation. The wool skeins pictured were both locally sourced. I handspun the chunky yarn from wool purchased at Windrush farm in the Chileno Valley. This color will look incredible with the other plant dyed colors I’ve been preparing for this season’s summer eco-couture designs.

Along the road where I went to photograph the yarns amongst the horsetail, I stopped by this organic roadside farm. I was quite happy to see those tending the small field had all ridden their bicycles to work that day. Beautiful to see the tended and farmed landscape set against the open coastal hillsides. Looking forward to sharing more eco-color with you as it emerges from the dye vats. In the meantime, drop me a comment about your experiences in the wild- do you tend it, observe it, receive inspiration from it?

Sticky Monkey Flower

Eco-Color Files

Yes, that is the common name of this California native, a funny designation given to a most purposeful perennial. It plays a crucial role holding up forebodingly steep hillsides. The blossoms are uniquely bell shaped with a soft wavelike edge, and are the most clear and vibrant shades of orange. Every little pollinator in our garden makes its way to this spring and early summer feast and attraction.

Sticky Monkey has a had an incredible bumper year- every hillside that hosts this plant, has been an ongoing display of orange for over a month now. The season is beginning to come to a close though, as the sticky blossoms dry, and prepare their seed. After a joyful and gentle harvest, I collected seed, and am now drying it, preparing to propagate. I put the branches, leaves, and flowers into the dye pot.

My water filling station is in the native garden, where I’ve planted sticky monkey, among many other natives, it grows vibrantly without the need for watering.

This color astounds me. It is the perfect rich and rustic mustard yellow. I can actually see saving these skeins for my fall designs, as it reminds me of the autumnal mass of falling leaves that streak our neighborhood each year. It looks lovely sitting in our own sticky monkey plant. I highly recommend this plant for the garden.

And as the sun set, I caught one last spectacular example of how this color glows. It shares the vibrancy of the living plant. This is one more reason to use natural dyes- they are another way of taking a snapshot of the incredible depth of nature’s colorful creativity. And these are not just colors for your canvas, these can be worn, and keep you warm.

I’d love to hear your ideas, inspirations, and thoughts on nature’s colors…
I’ll be in touch as this process evolves, thank you for reading.

Power of Sunlight

Solar Power for Eco-Color Dye Vat

These Ecological Arts students took part in a carbon neutral natural dye process today. The dye process generally requires a plug in of some sort of a high electricity utilizing electric burner, and for good color yields, this burner generally needs to run for over an hour. Today we did things differently, and our results were more positive than the ‘old’ way. This seems to be common in the new world of doing things green- its better for the planet, the process is more humane, and the whole aesthetic from start to finish is simply more intriguing and inviting.

We were able to use recycled glass jars, instead of stainless steel pots. The glass heats up faster than stainless steel, and the lid on the glass traps heat quite well. This was a dye bath of wild mustard and a horticultural variety of coreopsis, that the children harvested themselves. The yarn cooked for about 3 hours in a southern facing spot next to a building, where the sun was reflecting strongly.

As we pulled the yarns out the vat, there were gasps amongst the children, and myself. The colors were extraordinary. The coreopsis having been left in the vat, created orange slivers on the bright yellow yarn. I could have never predicted this outcome.

An incredible day, and a fantastic outcome to our experiment. If you have any experience with solar dye making, I’d love to hear how it’s been for you. If you haven’t tried it yet- the process is highly recommended.

Natural Shibori

Eco-Color Files Creating Art from Local Natural Resources

Shibori is an incredible technique for creating patterns on fabric, through folding, wrapping, tying, and even stitching. Its origins began some time ago, in 8th century Japan. My class adopted this ancient tradition, and added their own modern variations. They began their shibori process with a silk scarf, marbles, rubber bands, and tongue depressors. The girls harvested their dyes from the surrounding area. Carefully pruning back toyon, sticky monkey, sage, and coyote brush for their dye pots. After an hour of immersion in the dye vat, the girls pulled out their silk, and hand-painted parts of the silk with ‘bug juice’ – cochineal extract, and logwood extract (from wood shavings).

Here is the immersion dyeing taking place. Into the Toyon vat, the silk goes with it’s tongue depressors firmly attached.

And the outcome? Wrinkled and Gorgeous.

And another proud artist.

And the marble queen unveils her hard work. At the end of the week, we had an eco-fashion show. I was so busy narrating, I have no pictures of the incredible event! The show illuminated nature’s aesthetic, while providing an incredible amount of joy for the students. The girls had harvested, designed, spun and woven so many fiber pieces throughout the week, they were jaw-dropping in their ecological colors, and proud smiles. One seven year old student came up to me at the end, and let me know, that she will carry this memory forever. Those are the moments that make all the teaching work so worth it. I am currently for the first time creating silk shibori dye kits, so the fun can continue beyond my classes. If you want to make a scarf with the help of an assistant, and ready to go dye vats, and you happen to live locally. Come to our benefit natural-dye shibori class on Aug. 1st at Sustainable Fairfax. (see more details on the ‘dye workshops’ page).  If you’re interested in either of these offers, just drop me a comment, and I’ll be in touch! Have a thought or story to share about you’re own process or natural dye passion, I’d love to hear from you.

Indigo Harvest

Eco-color Files

Today was the season’s first Indigo harvest from my garden. Collection began early this morning, and the dye bath processes ended just before sunset this evening. I have never been more satisfied with a dye color.  There is no clearer reflection of sky and sea than the blues of Indigo.

I’ve been waiting for this day since last October, when I first ordered my seeds.  I planted my Japanese Indigo in December, indoors.  Today was the first day of harvest- July 14th.  So it has been some time coming, and it was well worth the patience required.  I’ve been building a deep and admiration filled relationship with Japanese Indigo over these many months- through tending, watering, appreciating, and gazing over these lovely plants.  It was only today that the relationship was taken to the next level- as I uncovered this most visually delectable natural dye color.

Extracting color included a variety of oxygenating, and de-oxygenating processes.  My handspun organic yarn looks yellow in the dye bowl, because it is.  Only when I pull the yarn from the vat, does the blue begin to emerge, as it hits the air.  I harvested one pound of leaves and stems today, and it was enough to dye 4 oz. of yarn.  My Indigo crop is so healthy, I likely have five or six more pounds to harvest before the season’s end.

If you are interested in this process I recommend Rita Buchanon’s book a Dyer’s Garden.  If you are interested in purchasing seed for Japanese Indigo, and growing instructions, drop me a comment.  If you have an Indigo story, or question I’d love to hear from you.  For the utmost beauty in Indigo processing, check out the ricketts Indigo studio

Reclaiming

Eco-Color Files

The future of textiles, like all the world at this juncture, is in flux, in need of change, and on its way to revolutionizing itself.

Photo taken by Ecofriend

This is a picture of a stagnant pond outside of  a textile factory in Bangladesh, where dye runoff filled with a panoply of heavy metals and petroleum by-products sit, untreated.  This picture was taken by Ecofriend. This is a scene familiar to me, from my travels in South East Asia. This visual moves away from my regular tone in this blog, which is to report on the local, clean, organic, and healthy textile production that I both take part in, and teach to others.  However, the reality is that the world’s clothing is still predominantly made in this fashion.  What better way to appreciate the local, organic, slow clothes movement, but to see the stark contrast of its opposite.

photo taken by Ecofriend: Blue-jeans Synthetic Dye Worker

Yvon Chouinard, founder of Patagonia- one of the most environmentally conscious clothing companies in the world, is now also consulting Walmart.  In an interview in fast magazine, Chouinard states ‘We have to stop the idea of consuming-discarding.’  He believes even if Walmart alone were to move to organic cotton, there would never be enough organic cotton in the world to support their consumption. For full article see- fast company. As a practitioner of the dyeing process, it is also clear, that a move to organic cotton alone, without a full scale re-design of the dye process, would leave the textile industry far from meeting the triple bottom line.  Dye houses, and dye workers pictured above would not see a change with simply a move to organic fiber production. The future of textiles is an emerging story we are all apart of- to move towards greater sustainability will require more than simply consuming a healthier product, but to slow down the consumption itself. Taking inspiration from these pictures and articles, I went on a reclamation mission with some garage sale finds from the neighbors yard.  It is time to make do with what we have, I believe. So how can we re-fashion, and re-enliven the cast-offs?

100% cotton shirt garage sale find re-fashioned

A fifty cent, 100% cotton children’s T-shirt was the starting point.  I filled a jar with rusty nails, and a bit of water, and some vinegar. I then let it sit in my sun-oven for a day.  I took scavenged  Japanese Maple leaves from the front yard and folded them into shirt and sleeves, very tightly.  I then wrapped it all up in rubber bands, and entered the shirt into the jar with the rusty objects.  It cooked in the solar oven in the yard for two days.  This was a carbon neutral re-fashioning- and no extra inputs were required, as I had plenty of rusty things, and my solar oven standing by.

Close-up of maple and rust imprints

The pattern that came from this process was stunning.  The dyes are semi-permanent, and if they fade a bit, I’ll just do it again, and maybe add some layers of other leaves as well. I highly recommend these techniques, and the work of India Flint. She has a book out, called Eco Colour, that outlines many techniques like this. In the process of reclaiming the cast-offs, and garage sale items, we have an opportunity to create in ways we haven’t been asked to, or thought of before. I made use of the abundant leaf litter in the street, the rusty items in the garage, and enjoyed waiting patiently as the shirt sat in the solar oven for several days. Slow Clothes give me time to garden, blog, clean, and work, and the longer I wait, the better they seem to look.

Re-fashioned children's dress in Indigo, and shirt in rust and maple

If you have a re-fashioning story, or technique, I’d love to hear about it.  If you’d like to learn some of these techniques and other dye processes that I’ve outlined in this blog, you’re invited on August 1st to the Sustainable Fairfax Benefit Dye Day.  Check the ‘Dye Workshops’ category for all the details.  Hope to see you there.

Some Kind of Wonderful Red

Eco-Color Files

Surprise from the windbreaks of West Marin…

The morning light captured the fire-like quality of this hand-spun corriedale cross yarn.  I harvested Eucalyptus from a road cut near my home yesterday.  Branches and leaves were used to make the dye vat for this skein.   I am still looking at the USDA plant data base to identify the variety of Eucalyptus I harvested.  It had the most incredible little seed pods- like little fairy hats.  The fresher seed pods had pink hairs adorning their base, like the rosy hem of a Victorian era woman’s gown.

The yarn changes color depending on the light that it’s residing in.  The quality of this color most resembles that of fire.  It illuminates yellow, red, and orange tones and hues depending on the  angle one is viewing it from.  I have never dyed a yarn with this dynamic play of color.  I have also never used this species before.  There was some serious excitement when I pulled this skein out of the dye vat. I couldn’t help but jump around, and run upstairs to show my husband in total excitement.  He has seen enough of my work to understand the importance of this finding- he looked at it from every angle, trying to figure out exactly what color was being reflected to his eye.

Here the same skein, once again looking rather orange.   From red, to yellow-orange, to orange again, all depending on the light and shadow.  This will make an exquisite summer shawl… Until next time!  Thanks for checking in.

Natural Dye Day

Eco-Color Files

It was an incredible day in the garden and the studio.  A benefit for our local sustainability center- Sustainable Fairfax, was shared with an exuberant, creative, and very sweet group of adults and children.  Immersion dye vats of Eucalytpus, fennel, bee plant, California Sage, Fermentation Indigo, Logwood, and black walnuts were dunked into, with silk, wool, cotton, hemp, and a bit of linen.

We started indoors with a little presentation on the importance of using natural dyes.  There are many reasons to use natural color, from personal to global ecological health-  it was a joy to share this information with such an understanding and receptive audience.  Many people purchased dye plant seeds, and talked about how to re-create these processes in their own homes and gardens.  I hope to see little dye gardens popping up in neighborhoods everywhere- and have people walking down the street wearing their own bee-plant pants, and Eucalyptus shirts…A world that is soft on the eyes, and good for the ecosystem.  What a wonderful world that will be.

We experimented with rust dyeing, hapa-zome (or pounding)- new additions to my usual immersion dyeing process. It was beautiful to observe how people used the immersion dyeing as a base layer, and then pounded pansies, borage, and geraniums into their cloth.  This created amazing effects, ones that I learned so much from.

I have so much gratitude to each and every member of today’s creative team.  If anyone in the group would like continued support in any of their eco-color adventures, please drop me an email, or give a call.  I look forward to your colorful future!

Colors of a Natural Childhood

This young man is four years old, and dressed to ‘be a super-hero that saves the earth,’ as stated during a free-play session on the native red fescue lawn.  He has spent his week making wild weed paper, adobe houses, gathering found objects, listening to stories about how things came  to be, and making his own natural dyes. His color choice for the above shirt and ‘wild flower cape’ came from the bark and shavings of the Indios peoples logwood project.  He also pounded cosmos flowers into his up-cycled cotton T, for a lovely floral pattern.

The dye vats began cooking here, in this large pot.  The little man in the picture is three, and enjoyed stirring this pot immensely. When his turn was over, he graciously passed the stick to the next in line.

We also prepared a tickseed coreopsis vat in a big glass jar. This jar was on its way outside for a solar cook. Dyes can be simply made with water, flowers, and the suns rays.  Although, we were at the absolute edge of the bay, looking out onto the Golden Gate Bridge, a well-known marine fog layer came to visit us each morning.  We still seemed to get just enough rays to cook our goods.

The calming effect of natural dyes is well known by those that make and wear them.  I see children enchanted by the colors of the bark, and flowers, and often their demeanor, sense of well-being, and inner peace emerges from the busyness of the activity, as they put on their hand-dyed clothes, and tie their scarves around their bodies to make capes, and costumes.

Native Dyes in the Commons

The West Marin Commons hosted a natural dye workshop in their wonderful new native forb garden. Amongst the coyote brush, toyon, Point Reyes checkerbloom, mugwort, and farewell to spring blossoms- a group of 15 adults and four children made use of 100% locally harvested plant dye vats. This was a day of working with what was available-  colors such as vibrant yellow, light and brighter orange, soft sage green, and deep brown, emerged from our vats of bee plant, toyon, sage, eucalyptus, fennel, and tickseed coreopsis. This workshop had the unique and added benefit of the most exquisite lunch, and dessert, whose ingredients were so good, and so many I would probably not be able to list them correctly! Thank you Stacy. As the workshop tailed off, Elizabeth Barnet brought huge cabbages, chard, and broccoli from her garden/farm, for us all to take home. The experience was rich in a feeling of community and connection with the land we share.

We also learned about rust dyeing, and how to make leaf prints with the help of found iron objects.  This process requires a little longer than one day, and I do have a few items that were left behind- they turned out beautifully.  If anyone is missing a little piece of hemp cotton fleece wrapped around a single maple leaf, let me know- I have it and can return it to you- its lovely. Many of the participants, including the children found success with the hapa-zome process, which is an easy way to make eco-prints, from common plants such as pansies, cosmos, borage, cota, and red geraniums.

The beauty of black walnut, and Artemesia californica, mixed in with a little coyote brush.  The colors on this piece were astonishing. Each workshop a some pieces are created for which I have little explanation for.  They emerge out of the vats and they just take my breath away.  The alchemy of the personal creativity, and the plant colors, forge a new aesthetic, one that I never see repeated.

Desert Harvest

 

 

Paige Green Photography. Navajo Tea or Cota- used for immune system and orange dye

When I think of the word ‘desert’, I hear phrases in my mind such as ‘food-desert’, or ‘emotional desert.’  All of which communicate a lack of something important.  My time in the veritable deserts of New Mexico and Arizona were anything but barren- they provided for me more than I can share simply in words.  The abundant and generous attitude of the human community, combined with the exquisite bio-diversity of the landscape, created a trip that is engraved in my bones and heart.

Paige Green Photography. Digging 2 ft. down into the ochre sands

 

Here in the sands of the Eastern Agency of the sovereign Navajo Nation, we dug for wild carrots.  These were not so edible.  It was recommended I try one, if I needed to experience the potency of oxalic acid.  I refrained from the taste test.  The collection was a joy, and we gathered many, enough for our teacher Rose to create dye baths well after the passing of the harvest season

Dye baths of cliff rose, wild carrot, Navajo tea, ground lichen, and rabbit brush, were created from plants that were gathered the day before in the long and far stretches of the high mesa plains.  I had not cooked dyes over an open flame before.  The smells of the cooking plants were overpowered by the smell of ash, and burning wood. Rose and her husband Henry arose at 5 a.m. to begin splitting the wood, building the fire, and making the dye vats.

Henry speaks Navajo and English, although he is a quiet man.  He is retired now from years of working in the coal mines, and as a welder’s assistant.  Although ‘retired’, he is continuously at work-whether it be a new addition on the home, to fit the growing family, or crafting weaving tools for the increasing number of young ones who Rose is teaching to weave.

 

Rose, grandmother of 17, raising 14 of them herself, is a woman who cares for her family with a humble dedication.  Here, she cleans yarns being pulled from the dye vat.  Her body moves into the routine with an impeccable casualness.  She rinses, squeezes, picks out the plant matter, and then hands over the skeins to a family member, who places them on the fence to dry.

Here is Rose with her daughter in law and grand-daughter rinsing skeins together.  Roses’s daughter in-law is a fine weaver, she showed us several looms she is working on simultaneously- one of her rugs is being woven with her grandmothers hands-spun yarns, that had been saved for many years after her passing.

 

Paige Green Photography

Here are many of the family members together.  Paige Green took this picture, along with many other incredible shots during our journey.  Even amongst the sand, ash, decomposed granite, and wood smoke, she managed to document our journey with incredible skill and precision.

Paige Green Photography

 

And now the desert colors are home with me.

Hollyhock: Greenish Side of Blue

This hollyhock dye experiment was the most joyful of surprises!  I have not seen this color before- ever, not from a natural or synthetic source.  That is the beauty of a natural dye- the color that emerges, is often not one that can be put into words.  Light defines color, and it seems that natural color and natural light create so many subtle variations, that the eye is delighted to no end with the shades and tones that emerge from one plant-based dye applied to one natural fiber, in the soft light of the setting sun.

The beautiful hollyhocks- thank you for your gifts…

This hollyhock came from a lovely root-stock from Spring Hill nursery.  The darker and deeper hollyhocks were by far the most useful for dye purposes.  I highly recommend this plant for your dye garden.  Do you have any hollyhock dye experiences you care to share?  I’d be very interested in how this plant may have worked for you, and what colors you may have discovered.

Medicine Bow

Returning from a four day journey into the expansive lands surrounding Encampment Wyoming.  A landscape dotted with lodgepole pines, cedar, aspen, cascading into sagebrush country- the home of grouse, prairie dog, moose, elk, pronghorn antelope, and bear.  We were in search of the plants that yield the colors of the mountains, and surrounding prairies.  Our guide and teacher, was an incredibly passionate and dedicated natural dyer of 35 years.  She, and her husband and grand-daughter generously shared their home, and lives  with us for the duration of our visit.

This is pine bark from an old lodgepole pine that has been killed by the pine beetle.  Over 1.5 million acres of forest have been killed by the infestation.  So far, there has only been selective clearing of the dead trees, but most remain, orange and red vestiges of a once vibrant and verdant forest.  This bark was the source of a dye that we made the following day over a wood fire stove.

This is the old copper pot that our teacher Carol Lee has set up in her backyard.  Her dye studio and wood-fire arrangement was inspiring.  Her BrownSheep company sells roving, yarns, and fleece.  Some of it, the Cotswold- is from sheep living within the region.  Carol has a penchant for natural dyeing, her studio is like a scientists lab- shelves filled with jars of colorful water, from this or that mushroom or bark experiment.

Here are some of the outcomes of pine bark, and aspen leaves.

Here is the Mt. Mahogany and Madder root experiments.  I am so pleased with these colors!

Here is Wooly Boy, the outdoor cat, that desperately would like to be let indoors.  He settles for time in the wool studio, hence his name.  He loves rolling around on skeins.  This madder root and sage skein inspired lots of rubbing and stretching kitty attention.

On our way back to Denver, we took highway 130 to Laramie Wyoming, driving through exquisite landscapes, that I hope to return to, and re-visit with a little more time someday soon.  So much beauty in the West, so much more to explore.  It was my first time in this awe inspiring region.  Thank you mountains, water, and beautifully clean air- I’ll be seeing you again.

Creating Your Own Dye Garden

During a natural dye workshop in Point Reyes Station, I met Dr. Sara Gottfried and her daughter Maya- it was a busy day, and there was a lot of  information passed along, much of it focussing on how to work with already functioning dye vats.  To extend the learning experience and bring the process into the home in a lasting way-  Sara asked if I would do a dye garden consult for her home garden.

We spoke a bit about the amount of sun in the garden, and the kind of plants she was interested in working with.  I brought with me, a combination of Bay Area native species, and several horticultural varieties, including, sticky monkey flower, mugwort, tickseed coreopsis, and violas.  These plants encompass a range of function for the natural dyer.  Some are good for pounding, some better for immersion dyeing, and others for solar dyeing.

Mugwort makes a wonderful immersion dye vat- with colors of sage green, and gold. There was already a healthy stand of it growing in the yard.  The family’s garden and home are a model for green living.  Sara and her husband dreamed of re-modeling their craftsman home in an ecologically thoughtful manner- and they manifested this dream fully- it now includes rainwater catchment tanks, a grey water system, and an interior whose materials- from floor to ceiling, are all as low-impact as one could imagine.

Here is the immersion dye vat, I brought for Maya to enjoy.  This dye came from Toyon- another California native.  The dye took to her scarf well- it turned a strong shade of  earthy orange.  It was nice to be working in the garden, and have the dye activities occurring simultaneously.  It facilitated a deep, and playful connection to the landscape, one that lasted many hours.

Here is a solar-dye jar example- this is the lowest carbon footprint way of creating color for one’s clothing, and fiber arts activities. The dye garden as a whole, marks a big step towards greater ecological consciousness.  For one, many of the dye species are native, requiring little water, and extending habitat into the backyard- for a myriad of insects, and all those species who prey upon them.  Using natural dyes displaces the need for use of synthetic dyes, and in turn keeps a host of synthetic and carcinogenic chemicals out of our water supply.

One of the most interesting intersections between the use of natural dyes, and the work that Sara focuses on with her patients at the Gottfried Center for Integrative Medicine- has to do to with hormones.  At the Center, Sara works with her patients to help them find balance and vitality, through a medical understanding of hormone levels, and their fluctuation.  These fluctuations occur naturally as we age, yet they can, and are often exacerbated by environmental factors.  One of these factors include genotoxic chemicals, which are chemicals that can mimic, and thus disrupt our natural hormone balance.  In researching synthetic dyes, it came to my attention that they have within them, a chemical that mimics estrogen. So, it seems there is one more reason to make and use your own natural dyes, beyond the beauty, fun, and alchemical magic that they bring to life- they also support greater health for us all.

The best way to bring natural color into your life, is through building a relationship with the plants that yield the beautiful dyes.

If you are interested in creating your own natural dye garden, or would like to understand more about the process, leave a comment here.  I’d be happy to talk with you about your garden ideas and desire for color.

Ozark Foothills

East of the Mississippi is a new land altogether, that large body of water divides the continent in a way I can only describe through the biological diversity I was blessed to observe.  The water content in the air and soil is much greater, the rains continue year round, and the noises of the night seem tropical.  We travelled to the what is considered the Ozark foothills, part prairie, and part rolling hills.  The berries were plump, and dripping from their branches.

Pokeberry is a species I have become very fond of.  This rasberry red tone was quite a surprise.  Thanks to Carol Leigh, and her dye studio at Hillcreek, these berry colors are both light and color fast.  I also learned the spring shoots were as tender as asparagus, one woman at the workshop mentioned how much she liked eating the greens steamed.

I could imagine the first peoples in these prairie fields, harvesting seeds, roots, and greens.  It was the first time I’d had the opportunity to walk through grasses and wildflowers as tall as myself.  Just around the corner from the dye studio, we collected the most abundant species- goldenrod, ironweed, and biden

Bidens polylepis

With very few flowers, the most beautiful orange emerged from the dye vat.

Just outside the field, on a pebble lane, handcrafted pruning sheers, and a bouquet of ironweed

Ironweed- its purple blossoms are a signature of the prairie meadow.  Somehow this native has ended up in several ‘weed field guides’.  I always find it amusing how a native species, that has been on the continent longer than ourselves, becomes a ‘weed’.   I like these hardy self-sowing species, and appreciate the color they bring to the edge of the roads, and the ditches, where other species will not grow.

SPAWN Dye Day

The natural dye day for the Salmon Protection and Watershed Network was this Saturday- there was an incredibly interested and positively minded group of fiber artists, ecological restoration folks, a family, and many others with intersecting interests. We used both native species and some less favored invasives- such as the french broom,  pictured above.  The Network restores riparian habitat all along the 9 mile stretch of creek, that is home to the largest remaining coho salmon run in Northern California.  This collaboration between the functional arts, and ecosystem restoration, deepened my already abundant appreciation for the role of the native plants in our community.

This little dye sample, for me, is at the heart of the collaboration.  Elderberries collected for seed propagation for SPAWN’s native plant nursery, left a colorful,  juicy by-product that we used on raw silk samples.

A Tom’s shoe experiment was tried in the black walnut dye bath.  This is a great dye bath, for a great pair of shoes.  Black walnuts were traditionally used for tattoo material by Native people, and that tradition might soon get rekindled (details in a later blog post on that one).

The outcome was a nice deep brown.  The colors of the day seemed to celebrate the equinox.

A maple leaf, iron, and black walnut print…  I feel the autumn emerging into view.

Our silk, and wool on display, tied up between the Oak trees.

I enjoyed watching people go home with native plants for their gardens- a truly heartwarming thrill.  It was so great to see folks inspecting the dyed yarns, saying, ‘look at this sticky monkey flower color- I want that plant!’  And then, taking their new friends home.. where the will have dye material for years and years to come.

Natural Dyes for Herbalists

Michael Keefe Photo

The California School of Herbal Studies, has been in existence since 1978, and was founded by Rosemary Gladstar.  The school was built on 80 acres, set in the aptly named, Emerald Valley, in Sonoma County.  Not far from the coast, settled amongst doug fir, redwood, and bay forest- the valley opens into the school’s half acre garden, that hosts over 400 species of medicinal plants.

Michael Keefe Photo

The class was amazing- as always, the school attracts some of the most inspirational, intelligent, and thoughtful students.  My brother Michael partook in the class as well- a talented professional photographer who kindly took all of these pictures. The colors were striking- the students had patience, and the their work illuminated their ability to work with a rather elongated process.  (Although a one-day dye workshop is about as expedited as it gets in the language of natural color!).

Michael Keefe Photo

The Indigo Vat!  The fermentation indigo vat yielded some pretty nice results, considering it oxidized quite a bit on the one-hour drive to the school.

Michael Keefe Photo

The fermentation vat gathering…. the group was delicate with the solution, keeping it active and producing blues for the whole of the workshop.

Michael Keefe Photo

The iron bath almost produces prints within one day- optimally this would be a two day process.  Students pressed wormwood, salvia leaves, and maple into their cotton samples.

Michael Keefe Photo

Toyon produced a beautiful soft orange- the color was very harmonious with the native plant colors of coyote brush, walnut and horsetail.

Michael Keefe

Horsetail created soft pinks, the silk that came from the bath looked like a luminous cross between rose petals and abalone…

Michael Keefe Photo

The power of the sun and flowers, produces some of the strongest, and most striking colors, especially on our raw silk samples.

Michael Keefe Photo

The coreopsis solar sample on the left- flower pounding on the right.  It was beautiful to watch the students meander through the garden looking for good blossoms for the process.

Michael Keefe Photo

Thank you to this amazing group!  I wish you success and bliss, in your journey as healers, educators, farmers, travelers, mothers, fathers, and all the many permutations in between and above.

Seeds of Sky and Sea

Paige Green Photo

My relationship with Japanese Indigo began when a humble package of seeds arrived in the mail sometime in the mid-winter.  Gently tended in my garage throughout the pre-frost days, the little seeds sprouted  quickly and seemed to enjoy their new home in California.  I moved them outside into a makeshift greenhouse in March, and let them adjust to natural light, until mid-April.

Here are the plants in the very early spring.  Adjusting to their place in the still cold soil.  Planted in a mound, about 8″ apart, I wasn’t sure if they would fill their surroundings…. I waited.

On the right side of this photo- the Indigo mound is seen emerging into a continuous plant.  It was shortly after it filled this space that I harvested my first crop, and began work on the first small vat.

Paige Green Photo

The excitement of growing a natural shade of blue, was to date, the most exciting experience I have had in the realm of textile gardening.  The plants regenerated after each small harvest, creating a rather continuous supply of color throughout the summer.  It is now the end of that season.  Just several days ago, I harvested my plant for seed.

I am now busily trying to clean this seed- a rather long and time consuming process.  As I harvest and remove the chaff, I honor the plant  that brought me so much joy through out the last three seasons of the year.  Even in the death of its color yielding foliage, it continues to bring me happiness, with the promise that these tiny brown and black specks of life giving DNA, will, in time, bring another round of blue, both to me, and to a local community wanting to grow their own color.

If you would like seeds, I am in the process of cleaning them, and have sent off two packets already!

They are $5 a packet (enough for a nice mound of Indigo), and I will likely have 15 total (not a whole lot)

Leave a comment here (so I can track how many orders I have), and I’ll give you the address to send your self-addressed envelope to!

And here is a little photo documentary of a small portion of what I created with Indigo this year!  Thank you Polygonum Tinctorium.. Oh how I love you.

Handspun corriedale cross rovings individually dyed in layers of Indigo

Peace silk, and organic cotton and hemp Indigo dyed kimono booties

organic cotton and hemp fleece kimono dyed in Indigo

Berkeley Botanic Garden

Michael Keefe Photography

The story begins with a snapshot of the end of the day.  A walk in the dye garden, gave us all the opportunity to see the alive and growing source of natural color in such species as- calliopsis, alkanet, indigo, and madder.  These are the reds, blues, yellows- that we can all plant in our gardens.

Michael Keefe Photography

A pleasure and an honor- these are the words that express my experience at the Berkeley Botanic Garden. The class of 19 was composed of an array of talented individuals- some longtime fiber lovers, professionals, students, mothers, teachers- and the very welcome participation of Maya, who is four I believe, and had already had her hand in a few dye vats before this workshop.  The group explored possibility, and moved through moments of creative mystery- and doubt, to compose what became true natural dye triumphs.

Michael Keefe Photo

Michael Keefe Photography

I did somehow have faith, that yes, the fermentation indigo vat would travel- and make it to the workshop without oxidizing… This scarf is a testament to the little blue vat that could, all the way up Marin Street- one of the steepest hills outside of San Francisco.

Michael Keefe Photography

The class community was so delicate with the vat, and so appreciative of its offering, I think it might have made a comeback based on all the love it received.  Fermentation is yes, a science, and also, a process that is totally alive and responsive.

Michael Keefe Photography

Michael Keefe Photography

The newest addition in my search for appropriate technology- brought me serendipitously into contact with the incredible Stovetech company. With the use of small bits of wood, this lightweight stove heats water faster than my hotplates, or my gas stove, with a lower carbon footprint than both of my traditional heat sources.  This stove makes natural dyeing an even greater pleasure.  I will be writing more about this in a later post, but wanted to introduce it to you here!

Michael Keefe Photography

The re-visiting of the solar vat, such a gentle and lovely way to make flower dye

Michael Keefe Photography

The botanic garden visitors are seen taking photos of the class’s work- the dry lines were a soft and fluttering gallery of color.  The pink silk in the foreground came from the stalks of horsetail.

Michael Keefe Photography

Another way to create color- the flower pound.  A process aptly named Hapa-zome, by India Flint..  This is the human-powered approach.

Michael Keefe Photography

The pounders at work

Michael Keefe Photography

The horsetail bath was saturated with wool, silk, and hemp.  Dr. Sara Gottfried and her daughter Maya stand by to check on their work.

Michael Keefe Photography

A multiple color layer sample emerges.  The creativity progresses as the day moves on, and the comfort level with experimentation increases..

michael Keefe Photography

End of the day outcomes. Using what we call stars and stripes shibori patterns, with color provided by black walnut, and I believe horsetail, maybe toyon…

Michael Keefe Photography

A big thank you to Deepa Natarajan whose vision, and hard-work brought this event into being, to my brother whose professional photography always amazes me, to Sara and Maya for coming again, and to all the participants who came from near, and some very far, to make it to this all-day process.  If you have questions, or want any dye tips, or support please email me when needed!

For more pictures of your dye day you can go to Michael’s Smug Mug Site.

Heating Natural Dye Pots- Naturally

Working with appropriate technology- the stovetech stove- the best heat source; Michael Keefe Photo

All my dyeing days up to this point have included heat sources that leave quite a carbon footprint.  I’ve used gas stoves and electric hot plates- the energy required to heat these tools was inefficiently and unsustainably pumped, mined, or extracted in some way. ‘Plugging-in’, may feel very convenient, but the process is hugely inconvenient for the planet.

Paige Green Photography

I worked over open flames at both the Navajo reservation, and in Wyoming this year- to find that while I loved the quick heat generated from the fire, I had challenges with the physical feelings induced by smoke inhalation.  The carbon foot-print of open flame work also seemed quite large– with smoke rising into the air in big plumes.  An unexpected solution to my heat source issues arrived when my friend Brock Dolman introduced me to Fred Colgan– a designer, carpenter, and humanitarian who works with the stovetech company.

Michael Keefe Photography

The StoveTech stove was the brainchild of an appropriate technology company in Oregon- whose goals are first and foremost humanitarian.  This stove was originally designed for the 3 billion people on the planet who cook over open flame fires daily.  It uses 40-50% less fuel, and reduces emissions by 50-75% compared to open fire cooking.  This eliminates 60% or 1-2 tons per year of green house gas emissions.  My stove was $40- a very fair price.  I can boil 1 gallon of water in 20 minutes using just three bits of wood- if kindling isn’t available, I can use any biomass from my garden- roots, dried grass, etc.  For natural dyes, the quick boiling time is wonderful, and temperature can be modulated by simply adding less fuel.

Michael Keefe Photography

My black walnut dye was ready in 30 minutes, and the pot stayed warm enough for me to add more skeins.  I used a total of 6, 1.5″  in diameter and 10″ long pieces of kindling for a great color outcome.