A New Year A New Chapter

I longed to publish an online diary primarily to document the progress of my craft using different techniques and provide an accurate record for reference over the years but struggled with a crisis of confidence.  What would people think?  Have I sufficient ideas to sustain a regular blog?  Am I enterprising?  Is my writing engaging?  Will I attract a sizable readership?  I deliberated and procrastinated for months until paralysed by uncertainty.  These issues persisted until my children pointed out, quite candidly, that “no one would probably read it anyway”.  I have often found, to my cost, that Teenagers can be quite crass.  However, that said it did allow me to breech the confidence barrier and halt my midlife arrogance in its tracks and for that I am eternally grateful. 

 I started ‘Raganory’ three years ago on New Year’s Eve 2013 at 9.13pm and thirty-five posts later it is with a heavy heart that I pen this, my last on ‘Blogspot’.  It has been a glorious adventure experimenting, documenting and sharing.  However, my perspective has evolved with time and no longer satiated within the constraints of a passionate hobby, I now find myself tantalized by possibility and ambition and so we arrive at a new chapter and a new home for ‘Raganory’.

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read my words and view my images.  For any interested parties the story continues here or at ‘www.raganory.com’.

A fond farewell.

'Puttin' On The Ritz'

Dear diary at the risk of stating the obvious, the small break I initially intended and mentioned in my last instalment four months ago, developed into a rather protracted stay of absence.  I did indeed take a break from doll making to attend to some much needed soft furnishing issues. 

My lounge and conservatory are the grateful recipients of new paint, new carpet, new roman blinds and curtains; a complete aesthetic overhaul they so badly craved, and of course I remain utterly smitten.

I have, for some time tried to infuse a spark of personality within my work to create charismatic and unique little characters.  

During my sabbatical I enjoyed the luxury of a rare spell to reflect upon this in general and my knitted bears specifically; rest assured I’m scheming behind the scenes on ways and means that improve the presentation and expression of the finished bear.

  An element of difficulty exists when considering embellishing miniatures, one has to consider the limitations of scale, skill level and how the chosen fabrics will respond to a particular way of handling.    

After consideration I thought accessorizing with a hat was especially fitting, the most memorable are undoubtedly those of Pratchett, Potter and Dickens, which arouse thoughts of top hats in varying degrees of shabbiness.

Of course one cannot over look the inimitable Fred Astaire, at the other end of the spectrum, dancing his way through the legendary 1930’s film ‘Top Hat’.

Top hats on bears, a stair and ‘puttin’ on the Ritz’, an obvious pun I know, but I couldn’t resist.

As the week draws to a close and Mothering Sunday looms large I find myself revisiting the mini organic vegetable box, a gift to my mum three years ago.  I am considering an updated version, not an undertaking to be rushed of course; instead a necessary investment of time and concentration is appropriate to blend a variety of techniques for a more refined finish.  This pleasure is probably best deferred until after the trade fair in April.

Farewell, until next time.

Nancy In The Making

Dear diary, Christmas being just around the corner is a seasonal reminder of the annual ritual of gifting.  I relish Dickensian tales of austerity and the ingenuity of the characters  that embrace the philosophy of a gentle economy, where there was little to waste.

  Giving something luxurious and thoughtful that entices a warm midwinter glow during the darkest part of the year is what I endeavour to do.  Although handmade by me the time invested can never be considered an exercise in penny pinching.  After all one cannot bestow compliments of the season with a miserly approach, there are no Scrooges here thank you.

An important familial tradition and an absolute pleasure over the years, has been to create little characters as gifts.  My children are grown yet there is still a desire to create these dolls, not for playing with as previously but as an heirloom piece or a decorative artefact; this was where the original inspiration for Nancy was born.

The simplistic charm of a traditional rag doll cannot be surpassed; it conjures a retrospective sentiment, traditionally from nothing more than odds and ends of this and that and is appreciated and loved by young and old alike. 

I can’t explain my endless fascination with doll making it is a palpable feeling rooted within that compels and motivates me.

 I am renowned for over complicating designs and miniaturizing a thing.  Although I wholeheartedly appreciate the beauty of simplicity in the work of others, however, when faced with a choice of static versus articulated limbs the joints win every time.  I am quite a contradiction.  I feel the introduction of dynamics elevates a fabric figure from a play thing into a holistic character that is fully pose able; unfortunately this takes time and requires much experimentation hence several attempts to achieve proportional and balanced limbs.

Nancy is a historic representation of the stories and knowledge of my forbears, of making and crafting using traditional skills; I pay homage to the generation that I succeed.

I am taking a small break from doll making this week as my attention turns to more homely pursuits.  My lounge and conservatory are receiving new window treatments, handmade by me of course, an indulgence long overdue.

Farewell, until next time.

The British Craft Trade Fair

Dear diary it has been a rather hectic week all in all.  Balancing the family dramas of normalcy and work does not ease regardless of how old, practiced or experienced one becomes.  As the tick of a clock marks the passage of time with monotonous regularity, the depths of my subconscious is equally pricked by an urgency; a cumbersome reminder that my journey continues without any physical effort from myself.  However, I shall continue to endure the imminent pressure of the deadline which, for me, is par for the course.

In August, somewhat rashly perhaps, I decided to exhibit my wares at the British Craft Trade Fair this coming April, and have been developing and refining my ideas for this event.  Being totally absorbed in the making process that my submission for their online catalogue had completely eluded me.  So began the onerous task of finding images and a narrative that portray Raganory within a specified word count, hence all the deadline drama.  The effort was made, the entry submitted and the panic swiftly set in.  Alas fait accompli, my dreams reside in the uncertainty of speculation and opinion.

An impromptu photoshoot was organized in my current workroom for the catalogue images, which hopefully illustrates the diversity of my craft.

A truly satisfying moment occurred midweek when all my industry resulted in a rather charming online catalogue page, none of which would be possible without the efforts, on my behalf, of the British Craft Trade Fair.

A view of my entry on the listings page.

My planned diary entry is scheduled later this week, which is the first instalment that details the making of a new doll Nancy. For now however, I’m off to work on a miniature bear.

Farewell, until next time.

A New Age

Dear diary it was my birthday yesterday, I was forty-nine.  I said that without the sharp intake of breath or audible gasping that’s associated with an incremental age hike.  Now on the threshold of my fifth decade I’m reminded of those predictable clichés, ‘forty being the old age of youth and fifty being the youth of old age’, need I say more?  I no longer feel the need to be placated and reassured about age related decline, in fact it’s quite the opposite, the once familiar and funny I find rather patronizing and not at all to my taste.  Perhaps I’m finally feeling a little more comfortable in my own skin, a little more confident, more accepting or maybe it’s just my age.

I have been absent from my blog for some months now. However, in that time I have made the monumental decision to exhibit at the British Craft Trade Fair next year and I’m currently developing my designs with that mind.  The diminishing timeframe inevitably creates obvious pressures with my working practices; the tension is almost palpable, hopefully not to my detriment as I strive to perform.

Currently I’m working on a new cloth doll; she is dynamic and has several articulating joints in the upper and lower limb; she is made exclusively from small quantities of rescued natural fibres, definitely rag by nature. 

She possesses a hand knotted silk wig, bespoke clothing and shoes.  

I started this project during the lead up to Christmas last year; unfortunately she was temporarily postponed due to a particular fascination of all things ursine. 

 I can confidently report that my grizzly enchantment has somewhat dissipated allowing for a more balanced approach and portfolio of work.

Although life is busy, frantically so at times, I endeavour to write regularly regarding the creation and processes involved with my approach to doll making.

Until next time, farewell.

Introducing Dusty Ruffpelt

A crack of light breaks through the distressed roof shingles and pierces the gloom within, gently illuminating the ancient rafters swathed in lacy cobwebs.  The unmistakable musty aroma and tranquility fuses the senses evoking images of a comfortable old library. 

Long forgotten, among the hidden crates and battered boxes is a once cherished treasure, now banished to a lofty graveyard until only ghostly sentiment remains. 

 Amid all the put away things a shabby little box rests with its lid askew and Dusty Ruffpelt glimpses out into the pooled light.

Thank you for reading.

Farewell until next time.

Wholesome Hues & The Happy Accident

 As well as my love of all things miniature I have long since harboured an obsession for dolls houses, which appears to be somewhat of a global phenomenon.  Interestingly, the earliest recorded evidence of doll houses were discovered in Egyptian tombs and estimated to be about five thousand years old, truly a fascination since time immemorial.

My parents are passionate collectors and although they do not own a typical dolls house they have put their discriminating eye and profuse talents to good use and have created quite a captivating diorama, which resides within a disused glass fronted cupboard, truly a unique piece of art.  Therefore, it is no surprise that I yearn to create an heirloom treasure that fits within this environment; a bear from yesteryear, previously loved and a rediscovered treasure.  

I currently use commercially available yarns for my knitted creations, however I frequently find myself at the mercy of current fashions, which aren't always compatible with my preferred palette for a vintage or antiqued bear.  I am faced with a threefold predicament which could threaten the bear's authenticity, albeit on a purely aesthetic bases.  The main issues are vintage tints, opacity and uniformity of colour; in short branded yarns are too perfect for my requirements.

I believe plant dyes will give a translucence and subtlety of colour associated with a vintage appearance that I so desperately crave.  My eternal quest is a search for natural fibres in tarnished shades, particularly in hues of brown and gold.  However, worn with persistent disappointment I have taken matters into my own hands and aim to colour the yarn to my own specifications.  As cautious is my favoured approach to all things experimental I have chosen to use the natural and readily available sources of tea and coffee to dye the yarn; not an original idea maybe, but a tried and tested one.

Originally bears were fashioned from a plush pile material, usually mohair, used from the times of their development through to the present day, which has in turn influenced my choice of yarn.  Although my methods maybe unconventional I aspire to create a unique bear that acknowledges a historic tradition.

For the purpose of the experiment I used four tablespoons of a standard ground coffee which was brought to the boil and then reduced to a simmer; the yarn and fabrics were immersed and allowed to stand for thirty minutes prior to rinsing and drying.  

Using Rowan's Kidsilk Haze in white resulted in a soft muted caramel shade, pictured above, with no adverse affect to the natural lustre or handle of the original yarn.

 This delicate shade of rosy apricot was achieved using the same method and yarn but using tea as the colourant.

Although I am very happy with the delicacy of the shades produced there is an unexpected uniformity throughout both swatches.  I was convinced my amateurish approach would be sure to deliver a degree of randomness.  However, all is not lost I shall have to add a little tarnish; perhaps a sporadic brush with the India ink should be enough to sully the outcome.

I find the recurring problem of locating appropriately shaded fabrics that provide an

 authentic foundation for the origin of a soft sculpture also exists in the doll making realm.  Therefore, I couldn't resist the opportunity to evaluate the results using a range of natural and synthetic materials; calico, muslin and tulle were immersed simultaneously in the dye bath.  The fibres yielded pleasing results although a little resistant to the process, I was rather surprised by the degree of subtlety achieved.

I was interested to try a second experiment to establish a correlation between incremental rises in coffee and the intensity of colour.  After all, I wasn't quite ready to accept that my simple techniques may only be effective for a delicate result.  All was well until the fragmentary racket of the smoke alarm prompted me into action, the muslin was scorched and although it produced an exciting effect visually was less appealing aromatically.

WARNING!

The fabric scorching effects were achieved accidentally I do not endorse or recommend that this be tried deliberately as there is an associated health, safety and fire risk. It also produces some rather acrid and lasting fumes.  Anyone wishing to proceed does so entirely at their own risk. 

 Dirty, stained and impaired to the point of fragility are the consequences of my accidental and haphazard methods.  The end result has the appearance of an aged map I think, perfect.

 I am now a devotee of the happy accident.

Although I am happy with my foray in fibre dyeing it is still rather irksome to admit that one's judgement is off, but in the absence of a thorough appraisal I have had to omit an entire process; further experimentation with the India ink will follow as soon as the application difficulties have been resolved.  

Coming soon, Dusty Ruffpelt. 

 Farewell, until next time and thank you for reading.