Willow Harvest -- Autumn Edition

You know how it is when you've "always" done things a certain way. For 10 years or so, I've cut my willow in the spring. It was timing that worked for various storage reasons. But I'm going to be leading a trip to Ireland next April. So I needed to get my harvest done this fall.

Last summer, I was talking with a friend about all this, and we hatched a plan. Her youngest is out of school and last spring she retired from coaching high school athletics. With just one full-time job now, she'll have more time to make baskets again. But her willow patch is small, and it takes a few years for new beds to become really productive.

This weekend, she and her husband came from Michigan to cut willow. With four of us cutting, a job that usually takes me about a week was done in less than a day.

With two extra pairs of hands and an extra dog to keep Scout entertained, a job I usually enjoy was more like a party. Just imagine a party where instead of dancing, people do hamstring stretches.

I kept as much willow as I'll need, and sent the rest home with Carol. My guess is she'll have 8 to 12 hours of sorting and bundling to do, but enough willow on hand now that she can feel free to explore a lot of the ideas she's been working on in her head. And my willow beds are ready for the next growing season to begin while I'm visiting The Burren, the Aran Islands, Clare Island, Donegal and Belfast.

At the end of the day, the dogs were tired and so were we. But it was a good tired.

And now, let it snow!

Quixote Coiling At Decorah

Over the years, I've spent a fair amount of time carefully watching hands. Hands of students. Hands of instructors. Hands of friends. Jo Campbell-Amsler was my first basketry teacher. I've been watching her hands for almost 20 years. And I've known her mother nearly that long.

But until last week, when her mom was in my coiling class at the Willow Gathering in Decorah, I never saw how much alike their hands are. The way they hold and control their materials, their gestures -- beautiful!

Coilers are such a delightful group. It's a slow, deliberate process. It takes time for things to build and then Shazaam -- something wonderful happens.

Quixote Coiling is my name for a class that uses whole-rod willow as the core element in vessels made with the basketmaker's buttonhole stitch. There's a knot on each stitch, which makes this an incredibly secure structure, great for sculptural work. And students learned a cool crown knot they used to start the base and as a surface embellishment.

Their hands were definitely tired at the end of the class. Willow is lively material. But it's so worth the effort.

Willow Workshops Of The Hybrid Sort

In one of the workshops I taught at last week's Willow Gathering in Decorah, Iowa, students dyed silk fabrics with willow leaves, twigs and bark.

Then they modeled and designed constructed vessels...

...that used those naturally dyed fabrics.

After a busy day of dyeing, we started the second day of the workshop by making simple vessels from the leaves of cupplants growing near the building.

Then my students jumped into modeling for constructed vessels. As usual, I got busy and didn't manage to take pictures of them with their models and fiber phyllo vessels. 

Willow has a reputation as a plant that crosses easily, which sometimes makes it hard to identify the exact species. I guess that applies to me, too: Many ideas have crossed in my head and hybridized.

You could practically see ideas flitting around the room cross-pollinating each other. I certainly came home with notions to nurture until it's time to thin them out.

Luckily for the Canadian contingent, it's easier to carry living ideas across the border than fresh plant materials.

Willow People

Wonderful, inspiring willow people came together last week in Decorah, Iowa, thanks to the efforts of Jo Campbell-Amsler and Lee Zieke Lee. I don't think I can sum up how important and fun this Willow Gathering was. I'll have to break it into several posts while I do laundry and prep class materials for my class at Sievers next week. So stay tuned for more about Decorah (amazing), the coracle launch, the workshops I taught, the other workshops, my new willow brake, and more. In the meantime, I put a photo album on Facebook and others from the conference are posting pictures as well.

International Willow Summit

For now, let me just say the key ingredient in this conference was the people. Generous, knowledgeable people from across the U.S. and Canada came together to learn and share. It was a wonderful mix of old friends, new friends, and people I've only known from online.

Lene Rasmussen of Lakeshore Willows

Katherine Lewis at Willowglen

Joanna Schanz, Sandy Whalen and Karen Tembreull in Katherine Lewis's Scottish Rope Coil class

Pam Talsky and Sandy Whalen

Jo Campbell-Amsler and Lee Zieke Lee

Photo op at Luther College -- a cool moth under the eave

As usual, I meant to take more photos then got busy setting up and teaching classes (and eating -- great food!). I wish I had better pictures of some of these beautiful people, or that you could see the pictures in my head!

More soon.

Unintentional Image Transfer

Next week I'm teaching a workshop where students willow-dye silk fabrics they'll use in vessels. I often wrap dye bundles around a short piece of copper pipe. We saved lots of short pieces when Bill installed the plumbing in our house. But some of the pieces have never been used before in dyeing. Tomorrow, I'm cleaning the lot of them.

This is what happens when you don't notice the printing stamped on a piece of pipe. Those red marks in the upper left are unintentional image transfers.

They could be cut out, covered up, or incorporated into a design. But it's not the kind of surprise that delights everyone in a class. A little sandpaper and some alcohol, and that printing will be history.

Except for maybe a couple of pieces I'll stash for some day when I feel like making little red text transfers. Or when I reach for those pieces by mistake.

What Would You Wear With A Fascinator?

The willow crowd will be gathering in Decorah, Iowa in a couple of weeks, so over the weekend I used some of my willow-dyed fabrics to make myself a little fascinator to wear. Yesterday, I bought another bolt of buckram. These are so fun to make I might have to do more this fall.

As fascinators go, it's pretty simple. Almost plain. Not a scrap of veiling in sight.

Personally, I think it would go best with Scarlett O'Hara's green velvet curtain dress (or maybe the Carol Burnett version). But all those hoop skirts sound a little hot for Iowa in summer (not to mention I'm teaching and would probably knock over students and dyepots in my wake).

As usual, whatever I wear will have to go with hiking boots and orthotic insoles, because my dogs have been barking rather a lot lately. (Notice how a fascinator makes you speak in 40's lingo and/or a British accent?)

I am quite please with how it came out. I made the elastic removable so I can take it off and use the hat as a sample in my Willow Spirit Vessels class. The elastic is recycled from the name tag from another conference, and colored with fabric markers to blend with the hat and my hair. Which was not fit for photography when I took these shots.

I shall take more pictures, once I've been through my wardrobe and completed the usual full-blown linear panic about what to wear at a conference. Perhaps with this focal accessory perched above my smiling face, no one will notice what else I have on.

What would you wear with a fascinator?

Stitching Bee -- Coracle Edition

Remember the books you read as a kid, where the pioneer ladies trekked through woods and snow to get together with friends around a quilting frame? This week's adventure was a drive to Iowa for a stitching bee with Jo Campbell-Amsler and Joanna Schanz.

For almost 20 years, these two willow basketmakers from Iowa have taught, mentored, inspired and challenged me, and I'm lucky to call them my friends. So this week I jumped at the chance to spend a day with the two of them.

Jo was ready to put the cover on a willow coracle, a job that would be much easier with a couple extra pairs of hands. The coracle project started in 2010. A conversation in one of Jo's classes inspired a small group of weavers in Michigan's Upper Peninsula to build two of the small willow watercraft as a winter project. Jo and her husband went up to the U.P. for the launch party last summer. And after narrowly losing the race series (to a teenager sporting an arm cast), Jo and Karen Tembreull wove a coracle frame for Jo.

The frame is dry, so this week it was time to get the cover on. Jo had the canvas seamed before we got there.

With three pairs of hands, it was quick work to stretch and clamp the fabric over the frame.

Then we stitched the fabric to the willow frame.

Joanna used a broom-making tool I'm calling a "palm thimble" to push the needle through multiple layers of canvas.

We stitched. We talked. We shared ideas. We completed a project. We added another chapter to our shared story.

So many tasks are easier and more fun when shared with friends. But sometimes it's easier to to help a friend than to ask friends for help. I'm glad Jo asked.

Is there a project or task on your to-do list that could be turned into a bee?

Life Lessons In Willow Green And Denim Blue

It was already a balmy 33 degrees when I got up this morning, so I don't expect last night's three-inch snowfall to last long. A few minutes ago, the sun came out. Before both the sun and the snow are gone, I wanted to capture the brilliant greens against the white snow. Then it got me thinking about another color -- denim blue.

First, the greens. Because of unseasonably warm weather this spring, I juggled my to-do list and harvested like a maniac last month before the willow could start to leaf out. But there's still plenty of willow standing. Some, like the one above, will be cut in June (or May, the way this year is going) and peeled for the bark I use in fabric dyeing.

In our area, trees are starting to leaf out now. That makes them really vulnerable to wet, heavy snow like this. But my willow was shedding snow and springing back upright as I snapped pictures. It's so resilient.

Willow is often used as a metaphor for resilience. I like to think a little of that characteristic attaches to the fabrics I dye with willow and passes along to the people who wears them.

Our ancient ancestors wore colors and patterns they deemed efficacious to creating desired outcomes, like good hunting, or the display of status. How different are we? In Wisconsin during football season, "Packer Friday" means you'll see green and gold on your bank teller, supermarket checker, and insurance agent. In politics, in the boardroom, in high school hallways, people use textiles and clothing to communicate who they are (or want to be) and what they think is important.

That's why I'll be wearing jeans on April 25. Denim Day is part of a nationwide campaign to prevent sexual violence.

Whether it's blue, green, pink, red, black, white, or rainbow colors, we all have clothing that makes a statement. Sometimes we wear things that let others know what we believe. Other times, we choose garments that remind us of what we can be.

What do you reach for?

Tunnel Vision

Maybe if I'd left a post-it on the bathroom mirror I would have remembered that Bill told me to expect company on Friday. Then at least I would have cleaned the bathroom and washed dishes. But last week the only thing going on in my head was Willow Harvest Tunnel Vision. And it was getting the job done: On Friday afternoon I finished sorting and bundling the last of the willow harvest.

There was just enough time left in the day to make a few willow hearts and bend a pile of willow frames. Those frames are now hanging in the window to dry.

It felt pretty good to sweep the floor, turn off the lights, and head inside at the end of the day. Until they pulled in the driveway, I completely forgot that friends were coming over to help cut one of our old willow beds.

In 90 minutes, the eight of us cut the bed Bill and I call The Snowfence. And I didn't think to take a single picture. Tunnel vision. So you'll just have to imagine four adults and four kids cutting two pickup truck loads of willow. They're using it to build a willow fence, a bunch more trellises, and some Christmas gifts.

By next winter, our snow fence will have grown back. But for now, when I look at that bed what I see are the faces of friends who have plenty on their own to-do list but always turn up when a big job needs to be cut down to size.

I just hope they have the kind of tunnel vision that kept them from noticing the dirty bathroom and messy kitchen.

Sorting The Willow Harvest

Some of the floor in my studio is visible again as I whittle away at the piles of cut willow. All that fresh willow makes my studio smell heavenly!

Willow Harvest

Unseasonably warm temperatures have added a sense of urgency to the spring willow harvest. More needs to be cut, but I'm relieved to have my prime beds finished. Today I felt like I had time to set up the camera and tripod in the willow bed while I cut. Even if it was only pretend, it was nice to have company!


All that willow is piled up in the cool of my studio for now until I can start sorting and bundling. But that's another day, and maybe another video.

Willow Hearts...And More Hearts

With Valentine's Day just around the corner, I thought I'd show you how I make the willow hearts I've been including with orders from my Etsy shop. If you're new to this blog, click on the post to expand the window so you can see the video player.




While I'm at it, here's a link to a post from last year's Who Hearts Looping tutorial

I heart you all. Thanks for reading!

What's On Your Job Description?

Do you ever wonder how a high school guidance counselor would describe what you do to a student who wants to follow a similar (ahem) "career path"?

On Saturday, I made willow heart ornaments to include with orders in my Etsy shop between now and Valentine's Day. That was in the "Marketing" column of my to-do list. Throughout my careers (three, as best I can count), I've done a lot of making that went into the marketing column. A few examples come to mind:

• dyeing Easter eggs (30 dozen at a time)
• building retail display fixtures
• painting signs
• fusing fabric to paper for product hang tags
• sewing garments

(OK, that last one's a stretch, but I put wardrobe in the marketing column because it's part of an artist's brand. Otherwise, I'd probably wear jeans to everything except weddings and funerals.)

Several of the young people in our life are just starting their first careers. On Saturday while I was making willow hearts, I was pondering what they may end up doing in those careers.

I got no answers, just a pile of willow hearts. I have no idea whatsoever what will happen even in the next chapter of the lives of these young adults. We're just staying tuned, a loyal audience waiting to see what they make of the world.

How about you? What's the most unusual thing on your job description?


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Holiday Gift Wrap-Up #1 -- Willow Pillow

It's all over but the leftovers! Before I start in on the next gift occasion, here's a peek at what I made this year (now that holiday surprises won't be spoiled).

For Mom and Dad, I finished the quilted pillow cover I wrote about here. The fabrics are silks I dyed with willow I grew myself. Dad helped me plant that willow, and one of the fabrics was dyed using my mom's old aluminum jelly kettle as the pot-as-mordant.

The hand stitching was done with pale pink silk buttonhole twist I bought at a yard sale then overdyed in the willow bath.

I purchased the square pillow insert, and used a row of snaps to close the cover. Note to self: Buy more snap tape. That would be easier for aging fingers to do up after the cover gets washed, but I was out of what has become a sewing staple for me. It's not just for onesies any more.

The finished pillow got wrapped furoshiki-style in one of the 35" x 35' willow-dyed silk scarves like I sell in my Etsy shop. I swaddled the works in recycled dressmaker's pattern tissue for mailing. The United States Postal Service moved the box from northern Wisconsin to southern Florida in a timely and efficient fashion and delivered it to my parents' door with a smile and wishes of the season from the mail carrier. He probably got cookies from my mom.

When I'm pressed for time, I sometimes forget how much I love hand stitching and embroidery, working without a plan, seeing how things develop, making it up as I go along. For this gift, I had time to savor the making. And I did!

I'd like to think that good feeling gets worked into the piece and radiates love when I can't be in that room myself.

Aren't Rules Made To Be Broken?

Please, please say yes, and that breaking rules is one of your favorite hobbies. I'm breaking a family gift rule this year in a big way. By about a thousand percent, I'd say.

The family gift rule is that presents should fit in the palm of your hand. That was Mom's suggestion when she and Dad were getting ready to move to smaller digs in a warmer climate. It's actually a good rule, one that makes coming up with gift ideas much simpler. For Mom -- jewelry and scarves, naturally. But Dad? That's a little trickier.

So I'm making him a pillow. (My parents are still on dial-up, so no chance they'll see this post). This gift won't fit in the palm of even his big farmer hands.

The quilted cover is made from naturally dyed silks from my Willow For Color collection. My dad helped me plant that willow. I think he'll find it interesting, and I like to give gifts that spark the telling of a story.

A few years ago, I broke the rule and made my dad another silk throw pillow -- one with an embroidered appliqued picture of me and my sister many years ago, standing in front of the milkhouse on the farm. Sorry, no pictures (I barely got it done in time), but I think it's one of my dad's favorite gifts.

I'll really try to get pictures of this pillow cover when it's finished. There's more embroidery to do, buttons, and a bit more stitching on the silk velvet binding. I want this pillow to be soft and cool and soothing to the touch. That's all I can write on the topic of aging parents right now, except to say that the strength and resilience of the willow I used to dye the fabric are a pale reflection of the character of the man.

Mom's gift I'll use to wrap the pillow furoshiki style. She's getting a silk scarf like those in my Willow For Color collection on Etsy. After Dad unwraps his pillow, it will fit in the palm of her hand.

Are you breaking any family rules with your holiday gifts this year? Or are you making family rules that make gift exchanges easier? I'd like to know! Leave a comment below, or post it on my Facebook page.

Willow, Indigo, Discharge And Free Shipping

The turkey carcass isn't cold before thoughts start turning to the holiday after Thanksgiving. If you'll be doing some shopping over the next few days, I want to let you know about what's happening in my Etsy shop.

You can use coupon code 2REDTHREADS to get free shipping on willow, indigo, and discharge dyed scarves. If you're in Wisconsin (as I am) and want to support a Wisconsin artist, I've added another coupon code for you: Enter SHOPWIS at checkout and I'll pick up the shipping and the state sales tax.

You'll find indigo-dyed circle scarves, discharge-dyed silk scarves, and more willow-dyed scarves in my shop (including the 35"x35" square silk scarves like the one shown above).

I've also added a few scarf pairs to wear separately or together, like I showed in this post. 

You can find it all at www.etsy.com/shop/donnakallner. Happy shopping and have a great weekend!