“Go wide, explore and learn new things. Something will surely have a kick for you”
― Mustafa Saifuddin
“Happiness is achieved when you stop waiting for your life to begin and start making the most of the moment you are in.”
― Germany Kent
Shibori, a form of Japanese cloth dyeing, dates from the 8th century. A variety of techniques produce some stunning designs on fabric.
I recently attended a short Shibori inspired workshop and walked away with two, once snow-white, beautifully patterned pillowcases in varying shades of blue. Traditional Shibori dye is indigo but due to the cost of indigo and the smell (the workshop was in a shopping centre believe it or not), we used instead a commercial blue dye. Having visited an indigo dye facility in China many years ago I can vouch for the smell being quite pungent and permeating.
Traditionally, particular Shibori techniques were used with different types of fabric and the pattern one wanted to achieve. The fabric can be bound, stitched, folded, twisted or compressed before the dyeing process.
One of the techniques in the workshop was similar to tye-dyeing, where sections of cloth are gathered and bound using either rubber bands, twine or string. The pattern differs dependent on where and how tightly the binding is tied. The tighter the binding the whiter the fabric underneath. This is most similar to Kanoko Shibori.
Pleating and folding the fabric before binding produces not the nice circular patterns of Kanoko Shibori but patterns more in line with Kumo Shibori. I concertina folded my pillowcases, one lengthwise, the other along the short edge. I used a combination of pegs and string to bind.
The preparation of the fabric was quite quick. First it needed to be dampened. Then bound in the desired manner before being submerged in dye. After a twenty-minute wait, an unbinding and quick rinse the patterns were revealed. I’m quite pleased with the effect. My final products are by no means works of art but the process was fun. I got to spend an hour and a half with a group of men and women from diverse backgrounds, we chatted and laughed and sipped coffees, iced chocolates and tea and nibbled on fruit and cheese.
This simple act of creating something, time spent with strangers and stepping out of routine buoyed my spirit and gave my mind a break. The act of making patterns on fabric is a great analogy for the act of reimagining and recreating the patterns of my life. A process I have just recently begun.
A year of inspiration: Inspired by the need to give my brain a break and the necessity to recreate the pattern of my life.