What ever happened to those daily practices?

This is a sheepish post, and not just because it's about things made with wool yarn.  (yuk-yuk)

With some fanfare I announced to the world in January that I would undertake two daily practices this year:  1) a tapestry diary in which I work through the techniques in Mette Lise Rössing's book The Thread's Course in Tapestry and 2) a perpetual journal of botanical drawings, inspired by Lara Gastinger (@laragastinger and #lgperpetualjournal on Instagram).

I have done OK with the tapestry diary, but I haven't woven every day by any means.  So far I've done 39 techniques in about 100 days.  At this point, here's where it stands.  I chose to work in the wintry palette of northern New Mexico for the first quarter of the year.  I'm looking forward to updating the palette with a few yellow-greens soon.  They are starting to appear, oh so slowly, here.

Molly Elkind, tapestry diary in progress, (c) 2019

 I knew that with my teaching schedule and life intervening in general that I wouldn't weave every day, and that's fine.  Eventually I will finish.  The tapestry diary is supposed to be fun, in my book, not homework.  I had an aha moment when I realized that at the end of the year I'd like to be able to connect each technique in the book to its bit of weaving in the tapestry, so that I can use the diary and the book as references.  So I took a photo of the weaving so far, printed it out life-size, and cut out each little daily bit and glued it right into the book (gasp!).

page of Rössing's The Thread's Course in Tapestry, with my cut-and-pasted additions

I've always liked the idea of making my own textbook and this certainly makes Rössing's excellent book even more useful for me.

As for the second daily practice, the perpetual journal, I did start it with great enthusiasm, but then, it was winter.  Winter went on and on.  And on.   It was harder to get outside and find things to bring in to draw.  And meanwhile life got very very busy.  So while I've enjoyed very much seeing what other people are drawing in their perpetual journals on Instagram, mine has been stalled here.  I hope to get back to it, really I do.

bent stalk of gramma grass

It's about priorities, isn't it?  And my main focus these days is making work for the upcoming Eldorado Studio Tour May 18-19, here in Eldorado, New Mexico, near Santa Fe.  I'm hoping to have three pieces in my series of wedge weave skies, and another three pieces in the new Fences series, in addition to work from last year's show in Atlanta.

Virga, (c) Molly Elkind, 2019.  Cotton.  7.25" x 9.25" 

I had great news last week--one of the wedge weave skies, Virga, has been accepted to the Small Expressions show sponsored by Handweavers Guild of America.  So while it won't be available for the Studio Tour, it will get to travel a bit.  I guess I'd better get back to the loom. . . .

Percolating, part 2: An old fence as muse

As I wrote last time, the New Mexico sky has been one muse for me here.  I'm about to find out how good a muse--or rather how good an observer/interpreter I am--as I warp up a small PVC loom and start a little wedge weave in DMC cotton floss.  Stay tuned on that.

Meanwhile I've been fascinated by the lines of an old fence I walk past every morning here on the path by the old railroad.  Our neighborhood used to be a cattle ranch, and I imagine the fence is left over from that.  I love how the posts are leaning and the barbed wire is making all kinds of cool lines and swirls and loops and is falling into disrepair on the ground.  These days, I like the idea of an open, permeable barrier much better than a solid barrier.

So I was telling a friend about this obsession and he gave me a sketchbook in a very cool format, 6" tall and 18" wide (!) and challenged me to fill it with sketches of the fence in the next month. Luckily there are only 12 pages--very nice watercolor paper pages that my rudimentary sketches don't do justice to--so this is a doable challenge.

I've been really enjoying taking this notebook and a few pencils and maybe some watercolor crayons out every morning and spending no more than 15-20 minutes messing around sketching sections of the fence.  Though I have put in a few trees and cholla cacti and wildflowers, I'm not really interested in capturing much of the landscape.  I really just want those posts and that crazy wire.

I am not a natural draughtswoman.  Collage is often my preferred design medium.  I have had no formal instruction in drawing at all. So I am learning, slowly, some pretty basic skills here.  But I'm also discovering some unexpected things with this experiment:

• When I have to draw something I slow down and observe it much more carefully.  It could be that one of the chief benefits of drawing is learning how to really look.  (Duh.)  It's yet another meditative experience. 
• The mark-making tools you use make a tremendous difference in the feeling of the final piece.  For me, pencils are too tentative and I'm prone to hesitate and try to erase.  I do better, freer work with pens or watercolor crayons I can't erase.  (Face-palm.)  
• As I approach each day's sketch I consider yet another, better way to render the subject.  I understand now why so many artists sketch the same thing multiple times.  (Again, duh.)
• The long narrow sketchbook format is surprisingly freeing, perhaps because it's such a good match for the subject.  It makes one decision, dimensions, for me.  I'm going to keep my eyes out for other unusual sizes and shapes.  

It remains to be seen whether these fences will make it into a tapestry.  Meanwhile I'm having a lot of fun.