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.
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.