Although I don’t remember who said it or wrote it, I encountered this idea decades ago, and it has become an important mantra that I have been known to declare at suitable times, even muttering it under my breath when tidying up after something creative, ranging from the kitchen to my sewing room. It’s very affirming, and sometimes soothing.

Some people call this kind of thing play and in an exploratory sense it is. This stretchy gold metallic polyester fabric, of a very fine knit coated on one wide with a metallic finish has intrigued me since I bought it early this year and explored it’s handling propertlies. – I just re-read that article, and had forgotten what I discovered about ironing it without melting it.

As my regular readers know, I’ve used it in various 2D and 3D creations this year. It’s wonderful in raw edge applique and makes fabulous stuffed puffs.

Another property I’ve found interesting is that it in small pieces it’s not ‘floppy’, so it has some potential as an edging. This morning’s samples as in the above photo might look like floor sweepings on their way to the bin, but I learned a great deal more about this stuff in a couple of hours’ play, and I see a lot to remember and think about.

I’m working on more stuffed puffs, black this time in black, for another tabletop soft sculpture piece for my upcoming January exhibition. Early this year I found an interesting new fabric in a polyester with pewter metallic finish, played around with it and next day returned to buy more and some of the gold it also comes in. It’s great for appliqued shapes, and a little goes a long way. I found some Gutermann thread on a 500m cone that exactly matches it, and here’s how I’m using it at the moment. I think slightly curved lines will look lovely once all the embellished puffs are assembled together.

To say spiders cause me discomfort is a massive understatement, and I have been known to totally lose it in the presence of large creepy hairy ones. I know, spiders are our friends, but they can go and be friends in someone else’s house and garden, as far as I’m concerned. Even out in the garden, some of them are a worry to me, as from now on (October) through to late April they spin large webs at the end of the day to trap insects flying through the night. Of course, I’m happy for them to do that, BUT when I walk into one of their webs, well, it’s not a pretty sight. Last year there was one living somewhere outside the window beside my computer, and he wisely set his web between some hanging plants out there. It’s a great spot, close to one of the lights on the patio. I watched a couple of times when it was about to rain, he rolled up his web and parked himself on the underside of one of the beams across the patio where it joined onto the house – mission completed just seconds before it began raining. They’re so clever to be able to read the changing conditions. However, it’s our patio, our outdoor living area for much of the year, and when necessary I wield a broom before sitting down out there.

As I reviewed this first embroidered puff, I knew it reminded me of a spider pic I’d seen somewhere a few years ago, and at last this morning, after a search through my photos and my IG posts, I found the image that was on my mind.

It’s a Peruvian Nose Ornament With Spiders in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, NY, presumed Salinar culture and estimated age 200 BCE-300CE. I noticed at the bottom of the page it’s available for any use including commercial, so here we are. If you’re interested in archaeology as I am, go to the link.

My regular readers might remember my recent post in August titled Occasional 3D Works which linked back to an article on memory in art, and how earliest childhood drawings of people tend to be ultra simplified blobs of head-bodies with protruding sticks as limbs, in the style known as ‘tadpole people’…

As the child grows they become more complex with the addition of facial features, the separation of body and head, hair, clothes and so on. Of course my own earliest drawings in 1949 or 1950 have long since disappeared, and I’m sure we don’t have any of our children’s or grandchildren’s, either. Parents tend to keep such things stuck up on the ‘frig for a couple of years, gradually replacing them with more sophisticated artworks featuring more increasingly realistic drawings of the artists themselves standing with other family members, the family’s house, dog or cat, grandma etc. I’ve never been one of those super organised collector types who file that stuff away organised into years, probably for the scrap book for each of their kids for their 21st birthdays, or something like that. We’ve also moved a number times since our offsprings were in kindy and preschool, and I guess that’s worked against us becoming the hoarders we might have become if we’d remained in the one place all our married lives. It’s partly to compensate for this shocking neglect that I began writing my other blog, pickledgizzards.com

That post Occasional 3D Works ended with the thought that since these were on my mind, I really should try a tadpole person or two in 3D, and this morning I took that bull by the horns. This very satisfying result is a first prototype – a wall grouping? Installation? Tabletop? as there will be more. This has a lot of potential.

I learned a lot by making this –

• It was easier and faster than I somehow expected.
• I found plenty of suitable wire in my studio that had been sitting there for years.
• I have heaps of interesting suitable bits of fabric, so here’s another potential stash buster.
• The strips of fabric wound around the ‘limbs’ starting from the feet and hand ends frayed fast with handling, so I’ll try cutting on the cross, or a rouleau tube, or wrap with thread.
• Even when packed lightly inside the polyesterfibre filling in a 5cm x 8cm blob doesn’t need further stiffening inside (so I didn’t need to cut that shape out of an old Xray sheet)

I will now retire with another cup of tea for a good read out on the patio of my current ‘downstairs book’ “A Hundred Sweet Promises” by Sephir Haddad My ‘upstairs book’ (beside my bed) is “Autocracy, Inc.” by Anne Applebaum which I’m reading on my kindle. My upstairs/downstairs system is just easier than remembering to cart the one book up and down!

I’ve always had a thing for the decorative potential of arrangements of holes, and today in my morning Instagram browse, I looked at the website of a French freeform bobbin lacemaker, Madeline Thoman I fully relate to her artist statement, and her images are beautiful – do look her up and keep an eye on her work. I’ve watched a few bobbin lacemakers at work and it looks far more difficult than any needlework technique I’ve ever done, and it’s quite humbling to think she taught herself how to do all that.

A few years ago, I wrote here that holes were the defining characteristic of lace, not the material around the holes themselves. Last week I listened to a fascinating episode of the Haptic and Hue podcast on the story of lace, “The Long and Wiinding Road of Lace” – Series 4, “Threads of Survival”, episode #31. I didn’t realise the story of lace only began in the 1400s, though I did know some of the stories of this expensive luxury textile, how it was a social marker, and so valuable that people risked their lives to smuggle it. If you’re a textile or fibre artist of any kind, or interested in the history of textiles, I fully recommend you look up Jo Andrews’ wonderful podcast in which every episode is packed with the interesting and colourful history of textiles within the history of Mankind.

Which brings me to the light bulb moment with this piece, mounted on what is technically a minimlist freeform ‘lace’ construction made to present this small 3D work, and it’s only just struck me that there is great potential here to present some other 3D forms in this way.

“Growth 3” was a delight to make, with some important learning along the way. The first piece with this title consists of a lot of glass+ textile for the 3rd Glass+Textile Salon in February, so I won’t show it here yet, as we’ve been asked to not publish entries before the juried exhibition, fingers X.

I’ll put a loop or two on the back of Growth 3 so that if someone wants to place it on a wall just as it is, that will be very easy, and carefully chosen framing could suit it too, although I designed it as a tabletop piece. There will be more ‘stuffed puffs’ coming soon, but I’ll pack the stuffing less firmly in them, so they are easier to ‘nestle’ up against each other and stitch into place.

With such firm stuffing, sewing it together was both finicky and required a bit of muscle power at times. In this next image I’ve covered over some of the gathering points and stitching over with fine, soft grey felt, which tidies it up a bit. And though I never mind showing ‘the artist’s hand’, covering those more extreme textured areas in my opinion elevates the level of craftsmanship a little – and good craftsmanship never goes out of style IMHO. It’s signed in tiny permanent ink letters on the back of one of the metallic puffs.

“Growth 2” was a small ~13m diameter piece, gifted to a fellow fibre artist :

Apart from making some cloth bags for this and other small 3D pieces to protect the beaded and sequined surfaces as the pieces are moved about, yesterday I decided I liked the trial, experimental way I had mounted this little piece inspired by a 2020 Clarissa Callesen workshop, so signed it in very small letters on the front, put the title on the back, and now it’s quite ready for my exhibition, too.