Weather Challenges During Winter

Over winter there were a number of challenges I had to respond to.
A wet, heavy snow accumulation broke the string and the 2nd Cedar cloth fell down.
The lace insert  in the top of the Maple cloth was decaying and tore on a snag.
During a wind storm my husband and I watched the Douglas-fir cloth flapping wildly. My husband is a sailor and said, 'Now there's a sail maker's friend.' During a lull in the wind I raced out and cut the cloth off the tree.
Now 3 cloths were inside for their own survival. 

During another wind storm a tree was blown down.  One of its roots flew up in the air and pinned the Arbutus cloth against the tree. 

Luckily, my sailor is also a lumberjack and he was able to rescue the cloth once the storm had passed.

Thankfully, no damage was done.
But the winter was hard on the cloths.

Cedar Cloth - December

Early December I brought the Cedar cloth inside.
It was deteriorating much faster than the others because it stayed wet. 

I made repairs to just hold it together until I can stitch on it. 

I decided to keep it inside so I could stitch on it when it was too cold and wet to go outside and stitch. I was getting way behind with my stitching schedule.

 

New Moon Colour Studies

Each new moon I took my colour studies tools outside and visited each tree. 

Joen Wolfram's Color Tool was an invaluable aid. 

 

Back inside I'd go through my thread boxes to find colours I observed on the trees.
I invested in this pigeon-hole box to keep the many thread bundles organised. 

Each month, for each tree, I made a thread wrap and explored the colours in other media.

Tree Cloths & Time

An important aspect of my work is the concept of time.

Not time as measured by a clock or calendar. I saw evidence of time each time I emptied the 7 threaded needles I took out to the tree. I felt time through my working hands. I saw changing time as the number of stitched rows increased. I saw time in the changing bands of colour on the sheets as the tree responded to climatic changes.

Rather than follow the Gregorian calendar to tell me when it was time to do the next colour study, I decided to follow the moon phases because they are linked to growth cycles in all living things.
I settled on the day of the new moon, a time of new growth. 

Early human artifacts show marks recording moon cycles. Many North American Aboriginal tribes named each moon phase according to what they observed happened in nature.
From November 24th to December 24th I lived without watching any TV, reading newspapers, or listening to the radio. I went to bed when  I was tired and got up when I woke up.  I was mostly on my own and spent the time stitching and walking outside observing and listening. I wanted to develop a more instinctive awareness of time. I became aware of time in the present and stopped continually thinking of time as always passing me by. 

I drew a graph to visually show the time schedule I needed to work to.
I found it interesting when I explained to people what my project was, most often their first comment was, 'That will take a lot of time'. They were right. It is all about 'Taking the Time'.

Challenges While Stitching Outside

I quickly became aware of the challenges of stitching outside while the bed sheets were wrapped around the trees.
I live in a "rain" forest area so the sheets were often wet. Thread doesn't slide very well through wet cloth.
So no stitching when the cloth is wet.

The daily temperatures dropped. I wore more layers to keep my core warm but found my cold fingers couldn't move the needle well enough below 8 degrees after half an hour of stitching. 

While working on the sheet I disturbed the wildlife. I liked it when spiders ran over my fingers - I felt connected. But I was not keen on connecting with wasps hibernating in this new condo they had found. They hung on by their mouths and made low slow buzzing noises when I moved the sheet. I was pleased when they decided to relocate. 

Another challenge was, apart from stitching along the bottom hem, how was I going to stitch on the sheet while it was wrapped around the tree?
Having found out I could stitch only when the cloth was dry and it was above 8 degrees, I realised I wouldn't be able to stitch outside many days between October and spring. I needed to put more thought into realising my concept.

Stitching on the Tree Cloths

 

After sampling...

...I used the colour studies to find matching coloured threads...

...and headed outside to stitch on the cloth. 

 

Colour Studies

I was reminded of the work of Jean-Philippe and Dominique Lenclos.

They produced a 'systematic inventory of the colours of the regional habitat' (p. 15). 

 

I did the same for each tree to become familiar with its biological identity.

Stitching What I See

During fall and I was entranced by the Maple's colours.

 

 

 

I decided to stitch the colours I saw.

Eco-Printing aka India Flint & More Sampling

I went back to sampling more eco-printing using India Flint's methods.

There was dyeing rather than leaf printing...

...but they weren't my marks.

Did I need to leave a body print, visible evidence I have touched the cloths and left my DNA, just as the trees have done?
Image of Colin Jenkins' stitched body print 'Purge' - (Source: Embroiderers' Guild (2006)  Art of the Stitch  Scholar, Surrey: EG Enterprises, p. 14).

Or maybe stitch into the cloth with my own dentritus, my hair?
Image of Tabitha Kyoko Moses' self portrait, stitched with human hair - (Source: Embroiderers' Guild (2006) Art of the Stitch Scholar, Surrey: EG Enterprises, p. 36).
I sampled but didn't feel the efforts added to my understanding of the trees I wanted to get to know.