A week of stirring and being stirred & of pots and potions.
Monday 23 May
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Seduced by the many Instagram dyers achieving subtle reds and roses from hawthorn, I take a bucket on the dog walk. The oven fills up with pots of stewing leaves. I start another vat of onion skins, because in for a penny.
Tuesday 24 May
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Rushing into dyeing is never a good idea. It takes the best part of a week to properly prepare fabric and to mordant it. I do not achieve roses or reds from the hawthorn; the hemp comes out an interesting lime green and dries to a soft sage. The onion skins come out a not very interesting fake tan colour. I use a bit of iron water to see what happens. (I am firmly of the belief that chemicals react differently to different people; on my silk dyeing course in London last year, people sprinkled iron over fabrics to give them a speckled effect. I only had to add a few grains of it my silk and everything went jet black.) Predictably, all warm, onion-skin gold tones disappeared. But I was left with a gorgeous mossy green, so I chalked it up as a win. I spent the evening watching Chelsea and wondering what plants the Fashion Revolution garden had in it that I didn't grow. Dyeing might be time consuming and unpredictable, but it is also utterly addictive.
Wednesday 25 May
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Another day, another pot. This time potatoes in the bottom oven for many hours to cook to collapsing. Added to a barrel of water with two generous handfuls of leaf mold and an egg cup of salt. If this works, and who knows if it will, it will result in a microbial ferment, packed with all the minerals and life required for the many many squash I have planted to thrive. I make a traditional comfrey tea as well, just to err on the side of caution. Are you interested in natural farming and using microbes to support soil health? I fear I may be becoming obsessed and, for the first time in my life, I am considering engaging with YouTube about it all.
I inspect my LAB (Lactic Acid Bacteria) on an hourly basis.
Friday 27 May
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A trip to Hestercombe for the opening of their new exhibition A Rose is a Rose is a Rose. I will admit to low expectations but who wouldn't want a chance to see Erigeron karvinskianus en massein the dusk? However, it was rather fabulous. A camera obscura pointed at the famous formal gardens, and some books made of soil.
Everything comes back to soil.
