Author: earmstrong8

A retired educator with past studies in creative arts, biology, ecology and education. Now pursuing a passion for fibre arts and outdoor activities.
I am inspired by the everyday beauty I see in the natural environment. When not outdoors, I can usually be found in my home studio where I play with photography, print making, fabric dyeing, hand sewing and free-motion stitching. I use these varied techniques in concert to interpret the magnificence of nature into tangible fibre art.

Where do I find the time?

It feels like I haven’t accomplished much art making this summer, but the months have filled with lots of adventures, travelling, exploring and picture taking. Art is always on my mind, so while I was enjoying the great outdoors all of my senses, as well as my camera, were recording sights, sounds and scents. I was storing up the raw material of ideas for future creations. I was filling my reference bank to tap into all fall and winter.

The mystery at this point is what will I create? Where will I start? As usual, I have more ideas and plans than I will ever have time for, but somehow I will just dive in and see what emerges.

Luckily, I have a few specifics to guide me.

*Frosted Window Pane in production* 12″x12″

I am just finishing up some pieces that have been accepted into the Cline House Gallery Merry Mini Exhibition, which opens in Cornwall, ON on November 6. Here is a sneak peek at a “Frosted Window Pane”, one in a 12″ x12″ series.

I am still working on my second sewer fish piece–it’s definitely going to be the longest piece I have ever made. But guess what… all summer I have been seeing new manhole covers and gelling up a new montage in my mind!

The fall will also bring work for two upcoming challenges. The first is for my Studio Art Quilt Association (SAQA) local “Land Between Group” which has decided to start a new challenge based on the theme of Art Connections. This is a pretty broad category and I’m not sure yet where my thoughts will focus.

The second challenge will be interesting. Our Kingston Fibre Artists group has decided to pair up this year for our annual challenge. Artists and their partners will work together to create two 10″ x 10″ pieces using only black and white. One partner will create mainly in white with accents of black and the other vice versa. I have never worked in only black and white, and I will just be getting to know my partner and her art. I expect it will be an exciting challenge and a great learning opportunity.

This summer, I’ve been dabbling in natural dyeing with soy milk, avocado, and golden rod. I’ve been adding to my stash of hand dyed fabrics. On the weekend of Sept. 20, I am heading up to Wintergreen Studios to participate in a day-long workshop on “Found Colour and Natural Dyeing” to add to my repertoire. Who knows what that will lead to, but it will be lots of fun!

As a member of Kingston Fibre Artists I will be joining in a local exhibition to held at the Studios of artist Michelle Reid, 36 Hatter St., Kingston, ON on October 4 & 5, 2025.

Did I mention my balloon work? Ha ha, this is a fun one. A few years ago for a significant birthday, a friend gave me two huge shiny balloons–of course even once they had shriveled and deflated I couldn’t bear to throw them out. Stashed them away, and then early this summer got inspired to create a huge, shiny art piece exploding with colour. Still in progress, but it will be a piece that is pure fun when it’s finished.

Oh yes, and then there is my hankering to do some more work with wool. I have started collecting old 100% wool blankets which no one seems to want any more (still accepting them if you want to toss any my way!). I love the texture of woven wool, and the smooth buttery sensation as it moves beneath the needle. I also have a few old sweaters, well past their best date, some moth eaten some worn through with love. I think I’ll work on matting and felting them to see what I get. Then, I hope to put all of that together into some sort of piece.

I only have one question really. How is it that anyone says they get bored in retirement?? My challenge: finding enough time for all the projects brewing in my mind!

Work with what you have

Creating Wilderness Reflection

What happens when you want wool fabric and can’t find any? Well, in my case, I decided to make it!

I had an idea for an art quilt created in wool, and I started searching. I couldn’t find any new fabric even close to 100% wool. I soon realized that even if I did find it, the price would be way beyond my budget. I considered recycling old woolen blankets and started keeping my eye open. Word went out to family and friends (still collecting) and I started to search auctions, yard sales and community garage sales. I came up with a few good blankets that I’m sure will work for some future project (read–that have now been added to my stash), but none of them were in the right colour palette.

An idea was hatched.

I have lots of wool roving, no surprise there. So, I decided to build my design and then wet felt it into a piece. One small snag that I forgot to mention, it needed to be bigger than anything I had ever wet felted before. Bigger in fact than my dining room table. I was committed to the idea though, so I forged on.

I was inspired by a photo I took while kayaking on Varty Lake. It showed a perfect reflection of cedars and scrub pine in the little bay that we often explore. High in a tree, there is an osprey nest that we have watched over the years. Often we see tiny chicks keeping their hunting parents busy.

I started to build the piece, layering wool roving to create the shoreline trees, overcast sky, clouded sun and the reflections. This stage took many days, maybe weeks. As it grew, I took lots of photos to check the overall look from a distance. By the time I was finished, the piece was about two inches thick, and I was praying that a gust of wind wouldn’t blow through the house!

As usual, with each step of a project I froze for a minute thinking that one step further could ruin everything. But again as usual, I took a deep breath and continued. The next step was to cover the piece with voile and wet it down with warm soapy water. This step flattens the wool to a very thin layer and it can now be gently massaged by hand until the roving starts to tangle enough to stay in place.

This massaging stage is my favourite. It is very therapeutic, rubbing and massaging the wet soapy mess with bare hands, swirling and circling, something akin to finger painting, but very clean! Even on a small piece this step can take a while. With this huge piece I was in for a good few hours of therapy.

Eventually, the wool piece magically starts to separate from the top cover and the voile can be gently removed.

The piece itself is very wet and soapy, and still quite fragile. A sheet of plastic bubble wrap is now placed over the top. Next comes the felting.

The process of felting the wool means agitating it until all of the fibres start to shrink and mat together. The fastest you have ever seen this process happen is when you’ve accidently put a woolen sweater or blanket into the washing machine—ta da—that’s the quick route to felt!

In art, we are trying for a slower, more controlled process. The usual method is to roll the piece up in bubble wrap or bamboo placemats to give a rough surface, but with this piece I used two steps.

Recently, while rummaging in a thrift shop, I found an interesting, notched rolling pin. This proved to be the perfect tool to roll the piece while it was still on the table. I think keeping it flat helped to keep the trees and details in place while they were felting.

Then, I rolled the piece, bubble wrap and all, onto a pool noodle and started rolling, rolling, rolling. I rolled in all four directions, first with my hands, and then, as my wrists were giving out, with my arms. Yes, it was a bit of a full body workout.

The felting takes a long time. It is only done when it is done. I kept unwrapping, straightening out, and rewrapping between the directional changes to feel the fabric that was forming. When its done the whole piece has shrunken and tightened up into a dense felt.

*Felting is finished, but it’s still very soapy*

Not done yet though! The piece is still full of soap and if it isn’t thoroughly rinsed the soap will eventually degrade the fibres. Rinse, rinse, rinse. This whole process is really about repetition, I think that’s why it is so meditative.

Once all soap is out it is time to get rough. This last stage is called ‘fulling’ and it means scrunching up the piece and throwing it, onto the table. Throw, throw, throw. You are literally shocking the fibres into tightening up even more.

Finally, its time to rest—both the maker and the felted piece. I laid it out to air dry over night.

Now I had my wool piece and it was time to sew. I placed it on top of a piece of wool batting and hand basted the two layers together.

I used free motion machine stitching to work in the detail of the trees, bushes, sky and water; added a few other details with hand stitching; and finally added the osprey and its nest of chicks.

How long did it take? I’m not sure…I forgot to set the timer.

Wilderness Reflection is currently showing in Proof of Life: 2025 Alumni Juried Exhibition, Marianne van Silfhout Gallery, St. Lawrence College, Brockville Campus. June 23-August 1, 2025.

Celebrating My First Art Exhibition Experience

Way back in March 2024, I wrote a blog about the frustration and disappointment of not getting accepted into juried exhibitions. My advice to you, but mostly to myself, was to Try, try again!; work on meta skills for the process of submitting; and never give up. I set myself the goal of getting into a show in 2024. I also promised to let you know what it felt like when I got a submission accepted.

Update: Although I missed my 2024 timeframe by a week or so, in early January, 2025, I had a submission accepted!

Right after the New Year, I submitted three pieces to The Cline House Gallery 2025 Annual Juried Show, which runs in Cornwall, Ontario from January 23- March 1, 2025. Within a week of the entry deadline, I received the wonderful news that one of the pieces “Burst of Spring” had been accepted. Finally!

After answering countless exhibition calls throughout the year, and receiving an equal number of lovely ‘thank you, but no thank you’ email messages, my determination had paid off. It felt fantastic! It felt like I had ‘arrived’.

I excitedly started texting friends and family. In my excitement, I told everyone the wrong date. I guess you could say I was a little flustered. Eventually, I settled down enough to get the correct date out to everyone and I eagerly anticipated the opening night reception. I spent the next two weeks silently (and sometimes not so silently) muttering ‘Woo Hoo!’, and making travel plans to attend Opening Night.

Of course there was a blizzard on January 23, and we were facing a slippery, blustery, two-hour drive. Not to be deterred, I pivoted and booked train tickets…there was no way I was going to miss this event!

We arrived early, accompanied by our friends Pat and Guy. Pat was not going to miss the opening night. She was the one who had first told me of the Cline House Gallery, and she was the one who had encouraged me to put in a submission for the exhibition.

Stepping into the Gallery just before 7:00 p.m. I got my first surprise–the gallery was already packed with visitors and artists!

The Cline House Gallery is a beautiful space and both the variety of media and the caliber of art was amazing: sculptures; oil, water colour, and acrylic paintings; glass works; collages; batiks; mixed media; wood carvings; metal pieces; photography; and even beautifully intricate pencil drawings. My piece “Burst of Spring”, seemed to be the only fibre art piece. I felt very fortunate to have been included.

The event was sponsored by Desjardins Financial and there were some very generous prizes. I didn’t pay much attention to the prize list, as a first timer I didn’t really think I was in the running. I was just excited to be included in an exhibition!

“Burst of Spring” was beautifully displayed on a prominent front room wall. As we wandered through the exhibition marveling over the works, my husband called me to a spot in the corridor for surprise number two. He had spotted “Morning Kaleidoscope” another one of my pieces! Then, in the next small side room, surprise number three — a sighting high up on a wall, my final piece “Teabag Peonies”.

Seeing your art displayed in public for the first time is a pretty heady experience. It is a feeling like no other. It isn’t just pride, it is something more. It validates your identity as an artist. It also creates a very deep sense of satisfaction at being able to show others your interpretation of beauty. People look at your work with appreciation. People take in and interpret the piece for their own pleasure.

It was shaping up to be one of the best evenings I have ever experienced. The reception was warm and welcoming and the atmosphere joyous. Meeting other artists and chatting with friends and supporters, both old and new, was so much fun. Time flew by.

Soon, we were asked for our attention to be given to the award announcements, which suggested to me that the evening was almost over.

The first prizes awarded were “Juror’s Choice“, each one having been chosen by a juror as their favourite piece.

Chris Chrysler’s multi-media “Phoenix Rising” was chosen by juror Frank Mulvey. Candice Nixon’s glass piece “Bubble Weave” was chosen by juror Jason deGraaf, and Helen Karanika’s abstract, “ Walk on the Beach” was chosen by juror Anne Barkley. All exquisite and unique pieces.

When it came time for the final award the “Best of Show”, to be honest, I wasn’t paying full attention. I think I was a little tired from all the excitement. I was content just to be there. I was happy to have seen some talented artists win juror’s prizes for their beautiful pieces. I was still marveling over the number of people in the packed rooms and I was already on sensory overload. I was curious though, to see which piece the jurors could possibly choose as ‘best’ from such a large number of outstanding pieces. I was still having a very difficult time deciding how to cast my own vote for the “People’s Choice Award”.

The announcement started by describing the “Best of Show” as having been a unanimous choice for the thee judges. The name of the piece was announced; “Burst of Spring”. In the short pause that followed I was thinking, “Burst of Spring?, hmm, that’s my title”. Next, I heard my name. I think it is an understatement to say that I was absolutely stunned. I turned to give my husband a puzzled and inquisitive look and he nodded and nudged me forward. In addition to being my chauffeur, frame-maker, constant supporter, and evening arm candy, he was now at the ready to verify what I had heard, and to give me a little nudge forward to accept the award.

I cannot describe the next few hours, other than to say that I was transported to dreamland. I was amazed, honoured, and elated. I listened to the jurors’ words being read to the audience, and I gratefully received the award from Desjardins representative, Stephane Leger (Insta: @desjardinscoop). Pictures were being taken, and I didn’t need to be asked to smile!

It was indeed an event that surpassed my wildest imagination of what a first exhibition would feel like.

The exhibition runs at the Cline House Gallery, in Cornwall, Ontario until March 1, 2025. If you want to get in on voting for the “Peoples Choice Award” check it out!

Many thanks to Emily MacLeod and Tracy Lynn Chisholm of the Cline House, Pat and Guy Davies, Yvon Schinck, the City of Cornwall, and Stephane Leger of Desjardins Financial.

Anti-aging

This year, I started off the Christmas season buying myself an advent calendar from the 1,000 Islands Soap Company. It is a beautiful chest of treasures and samples with one treat to be opened every day in December. For several solid reasons that I won’t go into, I decided it was best to start opening on November 1^st.

On Tuesday, November 5^th, I opened box number five—I stick to only one a day, no cheating—and found a small container of anti-aging cream. My skeptical husband raised an eyebrow, but I decided to try it out and applied it generously during my morning routine.

Late in the day on that same Tuesday, I went over to Shoppers to get my flu shot. When checking in, the woman looked over my registration form and muttered “66”. I detected a surprised tone. I asked, “66 what?, What’s 66?” . She replied, still with the tone, “Your age. You’re sixty six?”.

I confirmed, “Yes, that’s right.”

She confirmed, “So you’ll want the extra strength seniors’ dose?”

Now, I admit that everything is open to interpretation, but my interpretation was that I certainly don’t look my age, could the cream have started to work?…maybe I don’t really need the anti-aging cream?

When I got home, I proudly described the encounter to my husband, who I may have described earlier as being incapable of telling even the smallest lie. His interpretation? “Maybe you better keep it up with that cream.”

Dyeing in the street

This summer while out on my daily walks, I frequently passed by the most beautiful manhole covers in the north end of the city. The covers are relief designs of fish, a gentle reminder to any of us who look at manhole covers that our waterways are all connected. Sewer water and street runoff eventually flow down into our lakes and rivers. The implicit message is that we should be mindful of what we put down the drains and onto our surfaces as all toxins have the potential to poison our precious resource. OK, maybe not everyone picks up that message, but I sure wish they would!

In truth, what I have been thinking as I’ve passed by is what cool rust-dye prints these fish could make on a piece of cotton. Unfortunately, these two manhole covers are situated in a fairly heavy industrial park strip.

Not the best situation to set up a makeshift studio. And, I wouldn’t want to be using any process that would risk toxic substances being left on the ground or in the drain.

Nevertheless, this section of my walk was always occupied with thoughts of how I could clean the dirt off the covers; what size cotton I would need; how I would hold down the cotton; how I would keep the trucks off the cotton; whether anyone would steal my cotton if left unguarded; how I would transport my supplies; where I could unobtrusively set up a lawn chair to wait while the rust process evolved; how many hours I’d have to wait for the rust to transfer… So many logistics to conquer in the name of street art.

This weekend, with it’s usual abruptness, Labour Day was upon us. The summer is officially over. It was looking like my chance for lifting a print this year would soon be gone.

The other day, I took a different walking route and I came upon the very same manhole covers only two blocks from home, safely located in the middle of a sidewalk. Aha, I thought, if we get one more sunny day, I might just be able to do it.

I started by running a little test at home. I wanted to make sure my idea would work before venturing out into public where I might be seen playing around a sewer cover. With a vinegar-soaked piece of cotton, some rusty washers and a hot sunny piece of the driveway, the experiment worked. All I would need would be a harmless vinegar/water solution, and recyclable plastic bags.

The next day, before I could lose my nerve, I gathered up my supplies: vinegar to wet down the cotton and the cover, pre-dyed cotton with a watery indigo pattern, zip lock bags to weigh down the wet fabric for maximum contact, a black garbage bag to cover the piece and capture the sun’s heat (to speed up the process), a comfy lawn chair for the wait, a sunhat, and of course, my beloved iPhone for timing and doing crossword puzzles during the wait.

I headed off to the site just after noon. I got set up without any problems, found a nice shady spot for my chair (no need for a sunhat, could have used a sweater), and set the timer for an hour.

When the chimes rang, I took my first peek. The rusty washers I had thrown on for good measure were starting to give a nice print, but that was it. Not even the slightest discoloration from the manhole cover let alone the beginnings of a nice fish print. Hmm, it wasn’t looking good.

Determined to give it the best shot, I waited another hour and still I saw nothing but a wet piece of cotton. My phone battery was about to die, I was chilled to the bone, and I was in desperate need of a bio break. I gave up and headed home for a hot bath.

I was feeling pretty disheartened, but my husband reminded me that Thomas Edison once said that no experiment is a waste of time and that even a failed experiment could teach us something…we can for a certainty learn how a thing cannot be done. After puzzling for a while on why it was unsuccessful, I verified with a quick google search what I suspected: manhole covers are treated to resist rusting (duh).

The problem was that by this time I was fully committed to that fish print and I wasn’t ready to give up. So, during my wakeful hours in the night, I made a new plan. I decided to use the cover as a relief plate, similar to doing a charcoal rubbing. To make the print permanent, I could use my brayer and thickened, water-based ink to transfer the pattern onto the cotton.

This morning, I packed up a new bucket of supplies, added a sweater, and headed back to the site. I tried a test piece of cotton. It worked!

I was on a roll. Why print one fish when you can print a whole school of fish! Within about 45 minutes I had printed and printed and printed, blues, golds, coppers…

Success! My original idea for fish printed on a piece of indigo pole-dyed cotton turned out just as I had hoped. As a side bonus, I have a long piece which was meant to be my test scrap that I also love. Two for the price of one! Next up, the fun of sewing them into something.

Inks, pigments and playing in the woods

This year, to celebrate the summer solstice, I participated in a day-long workshop foraging in the woods and then using the bounty we collected to to make inks and pigments. We also tried our hand at making fresh flower prints, and we learned how to make artists’ charcoal from willow branches. It was a fantastic day and lucky for you, I got lots of pictures!

We started off on a morning hike through the woods with very dark clouds looming. Everyone had rain gear and boots and a healthy sense of adventure, so the on and off rain that hit didn’t dampen the adventure.

The hike began with some lessons on foraging responsibly: do no damage, do not take anything that appears to be unique or in short supply, and do not take more than you need. With this in mind, most of our walk was spent observing and in my case, taking pictures. It was only on the way back that we collected a few samples of mud, rocks, flowers, leaves and bark.

It is still pretty early in the season and there were lots of wild flowers to be seen along the way. For my little pouch of keepers I picked two wild columbine, a couple of purple cow’s vetch and two bunch berries. We also saw lots of clover and daisies and other common field flowers, but I chose primarily for colour.

One bonus to all the rainy days we’ve had was that mushrooms were popping up everywhere. I do not know how to identify mushrooms, but I marveled over the variety of colours and shapes. They are easily overlooked while you are concentrating on the the trail, and trying not slip on roots and mud, but if you keep your eyes open you will spot them.

I have always loved lichen and it is abundant in our area. On this trip, we saw three different categories of lichen. Covering most of the exposed granite we saw lots of ‘crustose’ lichen, that’s easy to remember because it looks like a crust. It is so common that we often don’t even notice it. On a damp tree, we spotted some ‘foliose’ lichen patches, which looks a little leafy. To my delight, on an old decaying log, I saw some of my favorite ‘fruticose’ lichen. It has has little upside down funnels that look like fruit cups. Sometimes, all kinds of lichen crowd together and compete with moss for space. You can use lichen for creating natural dyes, but unlike mushrooms lichen takes an incredibly long time to grow so we decided to let it be for now.

*Lunch was well underway when we returned*

Before we knew it, the morning was gone and our tummies were rumbling, so we headed back to the lodge to dry off, fuel up with a delicious lunch and get down to creating. ¹

Laura, our instructor had prepared lots of different work stations so that everyone could spread out to different activities and play at their own pace. She had a stock of pre-made inks and pigments, paper, brushes, hammers, mortars and pestles, soap, willow branches, eye droppers, pH shifting agents, and lots of glass vials and jars. Let the science begin!!

We had decided as a group to do two different ink dyes, one with birch bark and one with sumac leaves. We also had some buckthorn berries and some avocado pits and skins from Laura’s kitchen. Most natural dyes will shift colour if you alter their pH or add iron or copper salts. A separate work station had been set up so we could experiment.

I guess now would be a good time to mention the difference between ‘ink’ and ‘pigment’. Ink is made by boiling down plant matter to leech out the colour making a concentrated, water based ink. Think of boiling water with tea leaves.

Pigment on the other hand, is non-soluble and is made from pounding, or grinding various types of rock or clay. Once ground down to as fine a powder as possible, the pigment can be added to a substrate to create a paint or a pastel. Mica, can be ground into a pigment which will add sparkle and shine to your paints, inks or pastels.

In our case, we used a bit of honey and soap bar shavings to make a playdough type mixture, then rolled it into drawing pastels. We had gathered some interesting rocks and clay, and, some of us even came back with a few bits of mica.

Out near the open fire, Luke filled a tin can with slim willow branches. He added a tight lid in which he had punched air holes. Then, he tossed the sealed tin into the fire. Soon, we had a tin of artists’ charcoal!

As if we weren’t having enough fun already, there was one more activity to try. We had each gathered a few wild flowers and Laura had prepared pieces of water colour paper for us. We made a ‘flower sandwich’ with our blossoms and the two pieces of paper. Then we gently hammered until the colour of the flowers created a two-for one print.

The end of the day came very quickly! For me it was a perfect day of fresh air, good food, good company and creativity.

I came home with a nice selection of natural inks to try out on some watercolour painting. I also made a blue-green pastel stick and chose some willow charcoal sticks for some sketching.

Of course, the day got me thinking of how to use these dyes and pigments on fabrics. When I got home I ordered a book Make Ink A Forager’s Guide to Natural Inkmaking, by Jason Logan, so I could keep on learning. Who knows what will come next!

*My selection of natural dyes for watercolour painting*

The venue for this workshop was Wintergreen Studios Wintergreen Studios an off-grid wilderness facility. Check it out! ↩︎