RUMInations

Thirteenth century ecstatic poet, Jelaluddin Rumi, has been part of my daily literary meal of late. Sandwiched in time between St. Francis of Assisi and Meister Eckhart, Rumi's mysticism is stunningly present, green and alive. Qualities I strive to live: presence, awareness of all that lives around me.

For example, today the undergrowth in the forest went from swollen gray sticks to pale green and vibrant crimson, with sprinklings of white and yellow. What seemed dead yesterday was only dormant. A month or so ago I noticed the fragile stems of apple trees at the orchard had plumped and reddened. I couldn't see it when I looked straight on, but against the backdrop of snow, as I walked past, the trees were obviously changing, awakening.

As I've planned this rug, I've kept lines of a Rumi poem in my mind:

Lord, the air smells good today,
straight from the mysteries
within the inner courts of God.
A grace like new clothes thrown
across the garden, free medicine for everybody.
The trees in their prayer, the birds in praise,
the first blue violets kneeling.
Whatever came from Being is caught up in being, drunkenly
forgetting the way back.

I want to be "caught up in being", and that is one grace of hooking. I cannot hook fast, I cannot hook without looking at the world, I cannot hook without feeling the color of each and every strip of wool as it slips between my fingers.

Some of my initial sketches and color plans including the very first where I copied the Rumi poem from a source now unremembered:

And a warm thank you to Mary Logue for suggesting I might find Rumi inspiring. As always, she was right.

Rug to Date

Progress is slow. From a few weeks ago:

From today (neither show a tree far on the right that I did first):

Funkify Your Wool

I'm easily bored so the excitement of that Great Goodwill Find of a Hideous Blazing Purple jacket soon wears off. I start to wonder what that purple would do to a light brown, or whether I need a hazy blue-white for snow or sky or what that Blue Blazer would do to white slacks, just because it might be cool and I don't have anything better to do. I stayed in this wondering phase for quite some time.

But after some Googling and reading and wondering and worrying, I did it. I took my wool and got funky. Which shouldn't be a surprise since I tie-dyed all my diapers when expecting baby #3 (I'd run out of nesting projects by then). Oh, I miss those cloth-diapering days! (No, no, not really. Universe, you didn't hear me say that.)

Some might call this procedure "Marrying" colors, though it isn't official marrying because the wool ends up mottled and not one, consistent color. Not that my married wool is one, consistent color either, but this is rather more purposely inconsistent. So, on to the technique!

First step, pick your wool.

Here I have a white, a bright blue, a textured green/aqua. And a rotten banana. Yummy.

Next twist, tie, marble, squish, etc. The more folds, the more odd your final look. Tie with strips of dark wool for an interesting effect or put a strip or two in the middle of a knot, twist, tie, whatnot and see what happens!

Put the wool in water, set it on the stove, turn on the burner, bring it to a low simmer. Don't boil it! Ok? You're not cooking it, you're heating it.

Add a healthy squirt of dish soap. Add it after you add the water if you want to avoid loads of suds. Or before water if you like to play with suds (like me, above).

Heat it for a while. I set the timer for 10 minutes, come check, if it's not how I want it, I set it for another 10 minutes, etc. Some wool takes a while to release its dye. Some doesn't hardly release it at all. Some wool takes on dye quickly, other wool doesn't. A few things to keep in mind: Thick, soft, squishy wools generally have more fibers and more dye. A small bit of that bright blue might be enough to turn the ball of white a brighter blue than I'd like.

Check it often and experiment with adding the lighter colors. The later added, the less dye they take on and the lighter they will remain. When you've achieved a color you like, add vinegar. A good amount.

I'll often turn the heat off here and let the pot cool for a few hours or overnight. Sometimes I'll cook it another 20 minutes or so. Either way, leave the wool in the vinegar for some time to let the acid do what it needs to do to set the dyes back in the fabrics.

Finally, drain and rinse. If your fabric is still hot, rinse in hot water. Match the rinse temp to the temp of the wool.

And unwrap, untie, untangle your wool to see what amazingly varied and surprising colors you've created!

I like to toss mine in the dryer with a towel, impatient gal that I am.

Up To Date

Since I was planning to chronicle my hooking projects, I have a bit of catching up to do. After the trivet and such, I started a rug (a real rug!). It will someday be just the right size for the hearth in the living room, assuming we're still living here when I finish, assuming I finish, assuming I don't spill coffee on it (again).

So. Photos of the early stages:

I'm using recycled wool on monk's cloth, #8 strips. Finished size will be (assuming ...) somewhere around 44" x 18".

Almost a Year Ago

On March 20th of last year, I took this photo of my very first rug hooking kit.

I'm not sure how long I let it sit, or how often I opened it, looked at it, unfolded the backing, refolded and repacked ... I was scared. I'd tried knitting. And after ten years my scarf was, well, sort of square and still only about twenty inches. I donated it to Goodwill with the knitting needles still attached.

I did finally stretch the linen, pick up the hook, and begin, and I'm glad I did. Although it took me just shy of forever, here's the finished product - a trivet - and four matching mug cozies.

My favorite piece by far (made from leftover scraps of wool and a bit of old skirt):

Thank you, Burlap N Rags, for offering such cute kits! And for providing enough extra wool to either royally mess up, or make four matching mug cozies.