Gold

The light this afternoon is golden.  It's just 3:15, and the low sun is about to set behind Asbury Ridge. For a few minutes it shines in, right on the Rosepath I'm just weaving, the gold button row, and mine eyes have seen the glory. I'm not kidding, weaving thrills me.

A Death and a Chase

First there was a death. This chickadee flew off the feeder, straight into the workshop window.  It fell to the snowbank below, twitched its feet, then gave up the ghost.  Its breast feathers were lemony, and gray.  A color I hadn't been able to see before.  Its small feet, blue.  Poor thing!

 Next thing, a  rabbit came straight down the path to the house, in the middle of the day.  I noticed him, because usually the rabbits stay hid in the brush of the tree row during the day.  And, this one seemed to be in a hurry.

When I was back at the loom again, well, actually at the window near the loom,  trying to get a count of all the cardinals perched in the tree above the bird feeder (16 was the most I counted, but they kept moving. so I'm not sure) here came the same rabbit.  Bounding over the deeply snowed bank on the other side of the creek,  it crossed a rough row of snow covered creek rocks, and then came up the path behind the store.

The rabbit didn't  even glance at the black sunflower seeds scattered on the ground around the feeder, but hurried by in determined haste.  I took another count of the red birds, mainly because they were such a treat to look at in all the snow, plump and red, perched,  like fruits  on the gray branches.

What's this?  Something moving,  gray and slinky at the top of the hill across the creek, just where the rabbit came down through the snow, making its own trail.  It's the weasel!  The same from last summer that wouldn't let me cross the bridge to the house?  Or an associate?  The gray furred  weasel undulated, body surfing through the snow, more than it used its legs, which were not long.  And it was fast, following the rabbit's trail as far as the creek stones, then doubling back. It was back at the top of the bank, in  a moment,  in one gliding,  cursive stroke.

The weasel looked small, only about  2/3 the rabbit's size, but was definitely in pursuit.  Back to the rocks, the weasel streaked across, not getting wet, though weasels are aquatic.  Soon he was up by the bird feeder, hesitating going first to the west, then toward me at the window, then going  around the east side of my building. The rabbit had gone west, but was only a few minutes ahead.  The weasel's gray, fine fur looked so soft and silky, and its face sleek and beautiful. But, oh my, what a mouth full of teeth are in that head!  I thought weasels turned white in winter, but not this one.

I took my camera and sneaked out the front door hoping to see more, but there was just a shadow of
a gray tail (?) sliding under the gas pig in the side yard.  I had disrupted  the chase, but my feeling is that the weasel still had the advantage.  Another unresolved story, with life and death consequences, unfolding outside my window.

What actually came next is I went back to my weaving, wondering how, exactly, a rabbit's expression can appear anxious, and how is a person supposed to get anything done around here, with all this drama?

Storekeeping

I'm painting a room in my store a dark, charcoal gray, so I've moved furniture around.  The sun comes in at a low angle lighting new corners.  Many spider webs come to light.   Outside it's cold,  and very bright.

I do prefer January to August. It must be my Arctic Circle genetic pool.

snow days

 

The bee boxes have snow tops, and look like giant petit fours in the snowy yard.  Cardinals, jays, 

titmice, juncos  finches, downies and sap suckers rush the feeders, with whirring feathers.  Every other day it snows a few more inches, and in the middle of the night we sometimes wake to hear Frank, the snowplow guy, clearing our driveways.  

These are good weaving days. I wanted to enter a textile show, and took some pictures for it. The deadline is today,  but I  couldn't manage to burn the cd, which was a frustration. Why am I so dull when it comes to this stuff?  I'm still weaving the little cuff alpaca wristwarmers, and rag, linen and cotton panels to sew into soft furnishings. The title of this weave series is We're Not Out of the Woods Yet. I made some good coffee and wove for a little while, and felt much better.  January is my new favorite month.

SNO-CRUSH: Annie Larson

 

Talk about crushes, I've felt a soft spot for Annie Larson and her particular creativity,  for a long time.  When I first met her, she was still in high school,  sewing handbags before anyone else had thought of it, and even before she knew how to sew.  She brought 5 of her bags in to my store to sell, and I was captivated.   From the get-go  she was obviously an artist, making it up as she went, in the middle of a midwestern small town high school. 

From there she went to University (of Minnesota) where she studied fashion design, was graduated, and then worked for several years for Target,  designing junior's and men's apparel. She always had her own stuff going on the side, making and showing collections of clothing that radiated high energy, and fashion bounce.  She was often noticed.  

Next thing,  she has imagined her own company,  with a Brother KH-950 Electroknit Knitting Machine, ALL Knitwear, her own label, launched in April, 2010.  She left Target behind, and she's pretty much a star now. If you're interested in fashion and blogs, you've probably seen her work in several high profile blogs in the past year.  

I'm so proud of her, and what's more, she's so inspiring, and always makes me want to shake up my own things in a different, better way. Do keep your eye on her.  Oh, and buy some of her pieces! 

They look fresh and flattering on anybody.

I still have some of her ringspun cotton knitted hats and her scarves in SNO-CRUSH.

Hats are $48 - $55,  and her scarf is $96.  You can email me for what's available (susan@avalanchelooms.com), or you can also purchase her work directly from her at ALL for Everyone where you can see her full collection, her latest news, and a bunch of cute pictures of Annie herself.

SNO-CRUSH: Wild Things! Amy Arnold

 Bear, with 2 accessory ceramic honey bees.

 Squirrel, with 3 accessory ceramic acorns.

 

Mouse, with 3 accessory, ceramic, pink baby mice.

(Forest creatures:  $400.  each,  includes accessories)

I wish you could meet Amy Arnold.  She's wildly talented, funny, warm -- and good looking!  I'm sure I'm not the only one with an obvious crush on her!  The creator of original Peepwool, creatures and animals (made mainly of Amy's wonderful  imagination, and some recycled fabrics), Amy has recently added ceramic to her textile figures.  Not your usual forest creatures, but definitely from the wild, they are the meet-and-greet committee at the  SNO CRUSH show. 

Amy moved to Viroqua from Madison, WI.  She now lives with her husband, and three young boys
on  their farm, where she works in her studio.

SNO-CRUSH: Kathleen Aaker

 

Kathleen Aaker wove her gauzy, linen shirts in a simple design.  She's been wanting to weave something to wear for a long time, and she's found it.   The stripes are the weft, and the warp/selvedge edge is the hem. The design is ingenious, and they look great on real people!

Since she lives on a boisterous creek (the South Fork of the Bad Axe)  the sound of rushing water surrounds her.  She calls her studio, Riverweave, and the mostly silk scarves she weaves, with deliberately slipped wefts are meant to look  rivery.  I think she loves and hates that river.   She has said that the river is too noisy, keeping her awake sometimes.  The river is also wild at flood times,  sometimes leaving her stranded, so it's not hard to imagine it influences her weaving.

She and her husband planted a native grass prairie on their farm, and she weaves that grass, harvested at the end of summer, into long repp weave table runners and wall hangings. The repp weave is perle cotton, the grass, Native Big Bluestem.  They are a beautiful setting for a harvest table.  She wove one in white wool and prairie grass for her daughter's wedding table.

Finally, are her little Kats, pieced out of wool scrap.  Meant as toy dolls, they have very long arms, the better to drag them by.

SNO-CRUSH: Irene Johnson

Irene is a skilled and excellent weaver, with an intuitive sense of color and design that reflects her Finnish ethnicity.  Born on the Iron Range in Northern Minnesota during the Great Depression, her
family only spoke Finnish.  She learned English when she went to school, and her name changed from Airi to Irene.

She has had a life long love of textiles, and taught herself to sew, knit, and weave.  She attended dress design courses at the Art Institute of Chicago in the early 1960's.

The daughter of Minnesota Farmer Labor Party democrats, feminist, and atheist, she has had a profound influence on her daughter (me!).  Just for the record, I wove a rug before she did.

She loves to use wool rag, and has a huge collection of deconstructed, washed and dried woolen pieces to work with.  She piles wool on her table, adding or subtracting pieces, until she feels she has the right mix.  She has a thing for men's overcoats, like men used to wear.  She loves old wool coats because the  wool fabric was a better quality, and she particularly likes combining checks,  twills, and tweeds together in a collage of textures. Wool rag rugs are long wearing, and seldom need cleaning.  One tip: to clean a wool rug, bury it in dry, cold snow for a few hours, then broom it off.  It's dry cleaned!

The black and white and blue rug, above, is made mainly of  men's  English wool overcoats.  White and black are for birch woods, and  blue is lake, sky, or blueberries in  Ely, Minnesota, where she and my dad live.
"A rug should lay flat on the floor," my mother says.

SNO CRUSH: Barb Monroe

When Barb, a nurse, and her husband retired to live in Dell, she thought she'd spend these happy, golden years either learning to play the piano, or weaving.

It was her fate to meet weavers, not piano teachers, so she cut the piano idea adrift.  She calls her weaving studio, It Could Have Been a Piano.

She loves color, and knows how to use it well.  She also likes to try out weaves from the  Weaver's Handbook. If she doesn't like how something is turning out on her loom, she's not afraid to take a
scissors to it.

For Sno Crush Barb knitted  wool mittens, using traditional Scandinavian designs,  inverting the colors on each mitten, and knitting in non-traditional colors.  The money from sales of these mittens she wants to donate to our two local food pantries. 

Barb came home from a trip to Italy this year, inspired to weave the red, black and gray tencel and cotton placemats. They are elegant, and sleek, an 8-harness pattern that she says is very simple to thread.

SNO-CRUSH: Angela Feltes

Weaver, spinner, colorista, Angela Feltes is a creative force.  Whether it's glass, complex weaves, yarn spinning, or dye, she's ready for it.  She takes on challenges fearlessly, in fact, she seems to thrive on them. I've chosen her black and white pieces to show here, though her weaving is often very colorful.

She produces simple structured weaves, like this weighty goose-eye table runner in black and white linen and cotton.  It feels like it could be a century old, just taken from a rustic Scandinavian table. Her little  black and white square-in-a-square 8-harness pattern is deceptively simple, and comely.  The  ivory spun Lincoln wool and mohair skein is luxurious, and full of potential.

She lives in the country near Viroqua, with children, husband,  dog and cat.  (She can also drive a snowplow down a precipitous snowy driveway). She is a woman who clearly can do whatever she sets her mind to.

Angie was the instigating force in the creation of Kindred Threads, her weaving store and cooperative weaving and dye workshop in downtown Viroqua.  Sadly, it  is closed now, but a strong weaving group emerged from it.

SNO-CRUSH: Peter Doval, Jean Beck

Jean Beck
This remarkable woman, maker, and baker, is also my neighbor, an Avalancher.  What a poor place it would have seemed to me here,  if she hadn't been living just up the hill.

She's a farmer, who loves to keep some chickens, and here-a-cow, there-a-goat.  She grows wonderful apples on her Bonnie Best trees.  She's known for her generosity, helping anyone who she sees needs some special attention.  She has a gift for knowing who and when.

She can make anything, beautifully.  She knits like a dream, made dolls, puppets and brooms.  She strings fences, lays stone, makes firewood,  candy clear toys, and remarkable molded cookies.  She reads a
lot, and has strong, well-informed opinions.  She's a conversationalist, and seasons it well with her wry humor.

  She keeps house with her husband; their three children are grown up now.

I asked her to make something for this show, and she designed and sewed these lovely, well-made and serviceable aprons, in 3 sizes.

Peter Doval
Peter is well known here for his turned wood bowls.  With a brief hiatus working on stone, he has returned to wood turning.

He works with local trees, maple, birch, box elder, cherry.  He is meticulous in every aspect of producing his work.  He searches out good wood to turn, and patiently brings his bowls into form, turning, drying, and finishing.  Over the years he has worked to develop a wonderful, durable finish. His bowls are light, smooth, and beautifully shaped. They are always desired.

Held up in the light, they often glow.  I am so happy to show his beautiful work here, and wood after all, is a fiber.

Peter lives and works in a small cabin on the hill, somewhere nearby.