Kelly Hill

This view looking east into Brown County State Park has been photographed, painted and simply enjoyed by tourists, locals, and artists—for over 100 years. Each change of season brings artful possibilities. Redbud and Dogwood blossoms in the spring, freshly baled hay in summer, amazing fall color, and bare hillsides blanketed with snow.

It was a rare day this October when I didn’t see someone stopped to capture this scene as I crested Kelly Hill on my drive home from work. I’ve done the same, although in winter, when a light snow had dusted the fields with white. I snapped a picture to use as a reference for a future painting.

This was one intention that I actually followed through with—twice. This past spring, I took a very enjoyable class from Corrine Hull and recreated my photo using soft pastels.  Here’s the result—my first try with this type of pastel.



Later in the year I took a mini-tapestry workshop at Yarns Unlimited, a local fiber store. I wrote about the beginning of that project in August, but as projects often go, this one was put on hold for a while. It’s finally complete, although late as a birthday gift.

Neither of my attempts really captures the depth of this scene. How the pasture falls, rolls and flows downward to the edge of the woods. How the forest rises up from the valley, and extends on until hills become haze . . . Picture perfect.

Making a Mini Tapestry

Yesterday I attended the first half of a two-part mini-tapestry workshop at Yarns Unlimited, a local treasure on the square in Bloomington Indiana. Surrounded by beautiful fibers and examples of completed projects was a bit distracting, as beautiful items caught my eye—but so inspiring!

The course description sounded much like needleweaving, so I signed up, hoping to learn more about weaving and pick up some tips on instruction. I wasn't disappointed.

Suzanne Halvorson's informal and informative teaching style put everyone at ease, and convinced us that we would all end up with a nice little tapestry—eventually. Patience is required, but the process somehow restores those reserves of patience.

While the weaving itself was familiar, the loom set up was not. This photo shows the start of my little tapestry next to a warped necklace I'm using in a Needleweaving Tutorial. My method strings the warp on the face of the board, using pins to hold the thread.

Here's how the thread is wrapped around a Foam-Core board for the tapestry warp.

The new method has some advantages. No pins to catch the weaving fibers (or prick from the underside), and finer detail is possible. Needleweaving uses one warp thread per quarter inch; the mini tapestry uses three. The result in scale is like the difference between needlepoint and petitpoint. Strangely, it doesn't seem take three times longer to weave.

Despite the pins, my usual technique has a few plusses. It's fun to incorporate beads, different shapes can be created and beating the fibers tight is easier. So I won't abandon my old ways, but will likely weave a few new ideas and methods into my future work.

At the end of the two-hour session, our warps were strung and we'd all begun weaving. We'd learned how to add and end threads, change colors, and create some different effects. I relearned how fun it is to be with others who share my interest in weaving. The completed Mini Tapestry will be the bonus.

A Tribute to Mrs. Hale

As a child, I looked forward to visiting our weekend neighbor, Mrs. Hale. Her little cabin was filled with unusual things—wooden bowls, an ornate woodburning stove  and games my sisters and I didn't own. We would play Kooties,  explore in the barn and pick grape hyacinths. I once found an old horseshoe under a shrub and felt like an archeologist.

What I anticipated most was seeing her latest craft/art project. Mrs. Hale was an artist specializing in miniatures. Or perhaps she was a miniaturist specializing in oils since so many of her creations were small scale.

She painted little oil paintings (about 3" x 4") set on tiny easels made by her husband. One weekend I took an art lesson from her and painted my own miniature of a barn in winter. I was surprised to learn that snow is blue!

Crocheted dollhouse rugs, Kewpie dolls in fancy clothes made from satin ribbon—so many things. We didn't do many art projects on our visits but we did observe that pretty things didn't need to come from stores.

Mrs. Hale reinforced this valuable lesson—first learned from my parents and grandparents—that everything is made by someone, why not by you? She also taught by example, where  lessons are often disguised as adventures.

These lessons came back to me as I admired the necklaces in a book on needleweaving. They seemed too complicated to undertake—until I read the caption on one of them: First Attempt. I decided it was do-able and headed for Hobby Lobby with my supply list.

Needleweaving proved challenging, but that was part of its appeal (along with the final result). Even as I was working on that first piece, ideas for future necklaces were interrupting my concentration. Call it hobby, craft or art, creating something for yourself is not only possible, but limitless. I know it's true; I learned it from Mrs. Hale.



Postscript: Mrs. Hale often shopped at Goodwill for supplies, another lesson I embraced and a topic worthy of its own post.