Three more experiments with paintsticks and thin silk.

Red oak leaves, stabilized onto freezer paper, with fabric ironed on over the top. I was trying to make clearer images by holding the leaf and the fabric still.

The left one is on black organza, the center one is on green dyed silk gauze, the right one is also on silk gauze but a contrasting color paintstick. The three are fused onto a much calmer background, but the effect is still nothing like I was hoping for. Interesting, and hazy, but not what I meant to do.

Alice turns 14, with, as requested, a massively strawberry cake: cake, strawberry frosting, strawberries in one layer, strawberry sauce soaked into two layers, and fresh strawberries on the side. Oh, and whipped cream!

What I had to remind myself was that these are also a series of experiments, and some are kind of guaranteed to not work the way I expected/hoped/thought they might.

I've been reduced, by rain and torpor, to bushes and shrubs. This is a from the blue willow in the back yard. They are pretty tall, mostly because of the absurd fertility of the soil and the fact that they are hardy to several zones farther north, so this feels tropical and delightful. They are also known as arctic willow and basket willow.

Anyhow – I had this theory that if I stabilized the leaf on freezer paper and then stabilized the fabric over the top that the resulting crayon or paintstick rubbing would have more definition, and less smudgy bits where things slid. That part of the theory worked like the champ. The problem was the simultaneous experiment with using silk organza to carry the paint. This also worked like a champ, until the moment I ironed it onto the circle. Then the patchy background took over, and I lost the paint in the noise.

So I have a couple different things to try next. Which is what all good experiments do: give you avenues for new research.

Another of my neighbor's eclectic collection of trees. This one is called Japanese Silver Bell. The leaves aren't as interesting as the blossoms, which happen all at once in about a week, and smell heavenly. They have a tree viewing party each year, under the arch of branches, with songs and story telling and a firepit (well away from the tree!) for marshmallows and s'mores.

And a happy Mother's Day to those who celebrate it!

This is another ghostly leaf from a hopeful place. My neighbor Mack has a yard full of unexpected trees. There's a pawpaw, and a persimmon, a magnolia, and this hybrid American chestnut. People have been working on breeding blight resistant chestnuts for a while, and the only way to tell if it is working is to hand them out to people and let them grow. Mack said he got little tiny nuts off this one last year, and is hoping for a real harvest this year.

The leaf image was printed onto iron-on transfer paper, and ironed onto a patchy circle. I like the way the circle stripes and stitching show through the leaf, making it feel ghostly and tentative.

The most important thing about today is my mother's birthday. She is bold, and fierce, and amazing. I learned about seeing the small things, and looking up, and making use of good weather (weather too nice to waste it inside!) and how to tack a sailboat (don't pinch it too close to the wind) and cook a chicken, and be brave and be silly. 

so, I found a fabulous fabric store nearby, and succumbed to a handful of variegated wools (good for hand stitching) and a pile of batiks that make me happy, for later.

This is a leaf from an oak tree next to the rehab where my father is. It is too new and tender to take much rubbing or scraping, so I found a little jar of paint, and dabbed it on with my finger – it made an empty shape around the leaf on the green fabric, so I cut it out, and let part of the printed leaf show through. Then, because I had a lot of time and nice thread, I did a lot of stitching on it. Also sewing on wool is lovely.

back in Maine,
my dad is SO MUCH better, it is a huge relief
the internet is slow and unfamiliar, so I'll post this leaf, and tell you more about my neighbor Mack later. This is a magnolia leaf from his yard, printed on vellum and stitched to a patchy background. I love the translucency of the vellum, related to my affection for silk organza; things you can almost see through.

Another thread leaf, this one stitched to green (Green!!!) silk, and then stitched to a patched yellow background.

This is a leaf from the champion sycamore tree in the center of Sunderland. It is a fabulous tree – I may have waxed poetic about it before. It is enormous and nearly cylindrical at the base, and well over my head it branches into five big sections, all as big as a regular tree. The center of the branching is a landscape unto itself. Every time I stop, I wish I could sit up there, and explore, or contemplate life, from that point of view.

Another leaf on soluble stabilizer, this one stitched to silk organza and then stitched to the circle. This is an elm leaf.

I keep tabs on a set of elms, just because I think someone has to. There is one outside a convenience store at the corner of Old South St (this leaf is from that tree), and two along the north side of Rt 9 through Smith college. Two of my favorites arc over Amity St. in Amherst, on the way down the hill towards home.

I am having some trouble posting things through typepad. They are working with me to fix my problems, and it will get squared away soon.

via www.flickr.com

the willow leaf in question