Weaverly

Shiny

A new book. This one began with a sheet of brown Canson paper. With an old, stiff brush I applied a coat a gesso and raked the surface with wavy trails to give it a highly textured surface. After the gesso dried, I rubbed on a coat of blue acrylic ink with a rag; this was followed by several coats of metallic acrylic, silver and green, also rubbed on with a rag. A few hours later, the paper had the feel and appearance of shiny leather and was very flexible.

I glued the prepared paper onto boards, and for endpapers I cut two pieces of the leftover brown Canson paper.

To wrap the prepared signatures (I rarely leave the signatures bare naked on these coptic books), I found a bit of printed giftwrap paper:

When the glued-up covers are completely dry, I'll sew the binding. Maybe tomorrow.

 

Undo and Redo

The button had to go. Sorry, Bebe.

 

A Casual Little Book

Gluing handwoven fabric to black felt for a wraparound cover was an interesting experiment in bookmaking. I was quite surprised to find that after I cut the cover to size, there was no raveling of the fabric. The glue (PVA) did a better job of controlling raveling than previous covers I had coated with acrylic matte medium. I don't know if it was the glue or the felt, but I think I may have found another way of doing covers. This will eliminate the tedious (but necessary) step of running a bead of acrylic medium around the edges.

The button is from a huge box of buttons gleaned from flea markets by Uncle Bebe. I think of Bebe every time I delve into that stash. 

Here's the inside, showing the black felt lining.

I finally got to use my green waxed linen thread:

Serendipity

Found in the sample box: a trio of aspect ratio trials from a lampas project. Funny how they accidentally all come together in a composition. It's exactly the right size for a book cover. I covered the wrong side with PVA and glued the weaving down onto a piece of black felt. After it dries, I'll cut it to size and proceed with the bookmaking. Stay tuned.

Sticks & Twigs

Sticks & Twigs is a pet name for our favorite breakfast cereal, but it also seemed right as a name for the book completed yesterday afternoon:

This is a really fat book; I haven't counted the pages, but there are 8 plump signatures, not very tightly compressed. The user could paste in lots of ephemera and not stress the binding. The longstitch spine sewing is restrained; I didn't want to detract from the jacquard pattern on the cover.

The wrapping cord was twisted on a Bradshaw Cordmaker. This cord is much beefier than anything I could have twisted by hand. I'm so glad Barb convinced me to try cordmaking for my books, and that Barb & Louise taught me how to use the twister!

Here's the inside of the cover, showing the "wrong" side of the doubleweave, and the teased out end of the cord glued in place.

I think my favorite part of this book is the selvedge edge on the front. Pardon me while I kvell a little.

Doubleweave Book Cover

There were some samples languishing in a box, waiting to be cut apart, finished, and photographed for my crepe seminar. One was blocks of double crepe + twill:

The other, larger, piece was double crepe and twill woven on the TC-1 (jacquard) loom.

There was enough for a book cover; after photographing it for the seminar I coated the back with matte medium, then after it dried I trimmed it to size, leaving one selvedge for the outside overlap.

On the reverse, I glued a strip of leather for spine reinforcement. By tomorrow all should be good and dry, and ready for hole-punching and binding.

Washday, and a Weaving Mystery Solved

I told you about the wonderful book Shantyboat a few weeks ago. It has really taken root in my consciousness. Velma recommended Wendell Berry's biography (a series of essays, actually) of Hubbard, author of Shantyboat, and I just finished reading it. It shed additional light on the amazing life and work of Harlan Hubbard and his wife, Anna. One of the photos of the Hubbards in Berry's book intrigued me:

It's a photo of Harlan and Anna in their farmhouse at Payne Hollow (where they lived for over 20 years after their shantyboat voyage down the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers). It's not a very clear photo, but you can unmistakably see that Harlan is weaving on a frame loom. What is going on here? I decided to delve further, and read Hubbard's book Payne Hollow; Life on the Fringe of Society. Another great read! And finally, toward the end of the book, I found the following passage, in which the author describes a typical washday:

…I rub one piece after another on an old-fashioned scrub board and toss it into the first rinse. By good fortune Anna enjoys the rinsing while I prefer to rub. Both occupations leave the mind free to wander and think about whatever comes along. This is one of the joys of washday and new, influential thoughts may turn up. By the time I have worked through the whites, the water has cooled enough for soaking the colored things. Then come my blue denims, on which a stiff brush is used. Last are the door mats, hand woven from scraps of unraveled barge ropes…

Violà. That's what Harlan is weaving on his frame. Doormats. And he is recycling barge rope reclaimed from the river. Next on my reading list is Payne Hollow Journal. Maybe there'll be more about Hubbard's weaving there. I'll let you know.

A Sturdy Book

There was a text block of watercolor paper already prepared, with board covers to match, just sitting on my work table. I had made it months ago, while waiting for some loom repair or other. Yesterday I looked at it anew. I wanted to make a sturdy book with a black Tyvek covering. 

On a piece of black Tyvek the size of a pillowcase, I machine stitched random lines of straight stitch, with an occasional "blossom" (my old Bernina makes nice blossoms). The thread I used was a spool of variegated rayon embroidery thread from India, rescued from the bottomless stash. I glued the stitched Tyvek to the boards; I was a bit worried that the PVC glue would seep through the little holes left by the machine needle, but that didn't happen. After an hour in the press, the covers looked like this:

The contrast between the matte black Tyvek and the shiny rayon thread is nice.

Endpapers of brown cover stock were glued in place. I especially love beautiful spines, and I found the white of the signatures too jarring against the blacks and browns. To tone down the white on the spine, I wrapped the signatures in brown lokta paper. Black waxed linen was my choice for the coptic stitching.

Now a glamour shot of the finished spine:

Morning

My hour of rising is later—there's been some slippage in the past few years—but with the increasing June heat and humidity, this morning I set out before 7 and was rewarded with a good sky:

I spotted an interesting bark detail on a tree I've passed many times but never stopped to examine before. To me this just cries out honeycomb weave!

The quality of the light was diffused and milky; no harsh shadows. But there was enough directional illumination at the early hour to produce this amazing array of greens in a pile of brush awaiting collection at the curb:

Time to go down to the studio. I glued up some covers yesterday, and they should be ready for binding.

Many Stitches

A couple of recent workshops have set me off in new directions. One was a live workshop with Terry, and another an online workshop with Jude. I started handstitching obsessively on worn cloth. The stitching is a pleasant evening activity. After laying out the cloth and plotting some lines, the stitching lines meander where they will, almost without direction, or so it seems. Yesterday the cloth told me it wanted to be a book, and I glued a sheet of Tyvek to the back. After it dries, it will become a cover (or covers). The Tyvek will prevent blowout of the spine stitching holes.

The entire surface is covered with minute stitches, no room for more! I was sorry to see it finished. After the last stitch was placed I laid out another background surface. This will be cut up into signatures when it is stitched. It may take several months. No hurry. The work is so pleasant.