Sorry to make you wait like that, but it's a bit like the anticipation when all this 'stuff' comes out of the vat, and the Shibori workshop has been an opportunity to learn and experiment and see what captured my imagination.
It's alchemy, surely it is, the cloth emerges yellow-green changing to the most vivid and unique shade of blue before my very eyes. I'd read all the books and knew it would happen, but nothing prepares for the awe and wonderment and collective gasps.
Remember that fabric scrunched up on the drainpipe...well this might be my favourite 'final product'.
It's just begging to be quilted in its own right isn't it.
Or the piece of silk and the beads held in place with rubber bands (actually the tiny bands used on pony manes)
Then there was that stitch-resist piece that gathered into something akin to Miss Havisham's glove, a mix of Karamatsu and Mokume..
I'm also seeing a bit of dental X ray if I look too closely. I won't.
The pleated fabric laden with clamps and bulldog clips was a lovely surprise..
Folding a piece of fabric over a piece of string and then drawing the ends together and knotting them to create a circular doughnut shape became this...
and then various experiments with clamps and folding, and marbles, screws and cones of fabric tightly wound with thread because I had this vat of indigo in front of me and didn't want to waste a drop.
People walked past admiring the handiwork.
'Oh it must be a tye-dyeing class,' I heard someone say.
'Actually no, this is the ancient art of Japanese Shibori, practised since the 6th century, and pieces have been found in the wooden store house of the great Buddhist temple Todaiji,' I wanted to say, but was too busy trying not to get blue drips on my hair as I dipped under the line.
I could have taken my vat home with me but all I could think of was the nightmare of braking sharply at Greystone Bridge and then what, but I will definitely be setting one up in the garden this summer to do some more. But for now, I have to think what to make with all these lovely pieces of pattern. I have an awesome book, Memory on Cloth by Yoshito Wada (thank you Curzon) where the creases are left very much in evidence in the cloth and become part of its final pattern, so it's a good thing that the iron conked out before I was tempted to press the living daylights out of all these.
All suggestions for usage very welcome.
Wallhanging, cushion, iPad cover, book jacket, bag...
And if you get the chance to do an indigo dyeing workshop I can highly recommend it.