dying to dye

I have dabbled in dyeing from time to time. Dipped my toes in, as it were, while it didn't mean much of anything, except an abiding desire to experiment and master it once I had the time.

Of course, that last bit meant the kiss of death to my dreams of dyeing. (Careful spelling check necessary! The only dreams I have of dying are the ones where I am falling down an embankment towards the rail lines upon which a speeding train is bearing down on me... or is that my real life, after all? Jung would have a field day with me.)

Right now, the train bearing down on me is the quickly approaching fiber festival. My dreams of dyeing (and perhaps also expiring from exhaustion, but that remains to be seen) have been resurrected post haste. I had an idea of the effect I wanted to create; I did lots and lots of research to confirm my hunch on how to achieve that effect; I ordered the dye powders; I acquired the roving; I weighed and measured and pre-soaked; and finally it was time to just pull out the dye pots and get on with it.

Although it looked like a very deep dark purple while in the pot, I knew that was not necessarily the end color. Only the drying process would reveal exactly what had happened in there.

Drying in the sun the next day, I am thrilled to see the subtle color changes. I was aiming for something that would blend harmoniously while it was spun up, while not being entirely solid, so this is exactly what I wanted.

Hurray! Clematis colorway is done and ready for the booth.

Now onto something completely different.