Road Bumps

I made a good start last week on the final book that I had set out directions and signature papers for prior to last year's back surgery: Celtic Weave. I chose a handmade paper embedded with small leaves and sprigs for the covers, tearing it to size to maintain the soft rough edges and folding per instructions. I so wanted an olive green thread to do the binding stitch with, but I didn't have any green bookbinding thread. Well, maybe that tan hemp thread I've been using so much lately would do, or even a white thread, but you just know I could not get my mind off of green thread. I spent way too much time on the internet tracking down a green in the waxed linen thread preferred for bookbinding. As you can see, I succumbed to a collection of green threads - something in there will be right - and another collection with a possible better tan/brown thread. First road bump taken care of.

And because if I just added a few more things to my cart, shipping would be free. Yes, I easily succumb to that one too, but to be fair, it will be nice to have these extra color options as I continue to make books.

While I waited for my order to arrive, I gathered and folded my signatures, placing them and the covers under weights, then went back to watching a few instruction videos for this stitch as well as a follow-up one where another member asked what she could do about the very problem I'd had when folding that embedded handmade paper. Some of the leaves are so close to the surface, or totally exposed, that when folding, some of them pop off. I had wondered if brushing on some matte medium might help keep them in place as the book is being used, and sure enough, that was the suggestion given. So second speed bump that had to be dealt with before I could get to sewing my book together. I had a pretty good size piece left over that I could test this on, and I was pleased that the matte medium didn't make the paper buckle or take away from the textural feel of it. The thread is here but I didn't have time to coat the book covers until today, so with any luck, stitching will commence tomorrow.

In the meantime, we are having our own heat wave in the Pacific Northwest, where many cities exceeded 100 degrees and my own little town managed to break a record yesterday with a high of 99 degrees. I've been staying in as it heats up fast in the morning so even shady deck sitting isn't pleasant, and waiting for the sun to go down before going for my walk when, while it is still 80 degrees, without the sun beating down is quite pleasant. 

Monday I took my sketchbook and captured the nearby EMS station which really does sort of sit in an open field backed by trees. My lines are not exactly straight, partly because I drew this standing up.

I sketched my pussywillow branch again a few weeks ago, this time with different pens. It's interesting (at least to me) to render something using different mediums. (Plus it's helping to use up a few remaining pages in a Sketchbook Revival sketchbook.) I'd run across an article where Phillip Pullman says,

"Drawing helps us see better. We never look at anything with so much attention as when we’re drawing it, and it’s a thinking attention, comparing this shape with that, the breadth of a hand with the span of the glass it’s holding, the darkness of that shadow with the brown of the velvet curtain, the foliage of that silver birch with the quite different leaves of the hornbeam beside it. Learning to draw is learning to see much more vividly and clearly."

I would add that it sparks curiosity as well. Not just about the thing one is drawing, but one's own abilities. This was always a driving force for me in my quilting, a curiosity about if something could be captured in fabric and thread. I find I have the same curiosity about my ability to capture something with pencil, pen or brush. 

And yesterday my curiosity was aroused by these ribbon-like undulating clouds, picking up the last of the sun behind the mountain. Rendering clouds in fabric and stitch has always frustrated me, and I have no illusions about how well I could do it with paint, yet I can't help but study clouds closely now, noting where the dark areas are and where the colors brighten. I can think of worse ways to spend my time.