It fascinates me. Perhaps because it suits my wing-n-prayer approach to creativity. Perhaps its the somewhat forgiving nature of the process. Definitely there is the textural aspect. Wet felting is quite sensuous (perceived by or affecting the senses, not the more titillating adjective sensual, although there felt offers that possibility, too, if so desired). Blending color with form and fiber gives both mind and fingers a smorgasbord of experience. Muscles and joints get quite a workout too.
Six years ago (really??), at SAFF, I bought a book from Chad Alice Hagen, Fabulous Felted Hats. I tucked the book into my fiber and craft bookshelf, and kind of petted it in passing every once in a while as I explored other fiber fare. Longer ago than that, I took a workshop on wet felted hats, made my first red elf hat, and bought a wood hat block. That sits, still in need of a finish to protect it from water. I don't wear hats. I look ridiculous in most of them and my dead straight wiry hair fights with hats like unhappy siblings locked in the car on a cross country trip with no air conditioning. When cold temps and wet stuff falling from the sky demand head covering, I go with hoods. But wet felted hats speak to me. Mostly in giggles. I'm a sucker for giggles. Wet felted hats are giggle heaven. I'm still chuckling my way through the ins and outs of felted form in 3D, so my hats thus far are fairly basic.
A couple days ago, I started with this, a blend of merino and angora I dyed and carded ... oh, a few years ago, at least. I found it while going through
stuff to throw out. It demanded action. So I cut out another resist pattern, planning to make an improved version of the Silly Hat. I layed out the pattern and fiber, added warm soapy water, and started the rubbing that ultimately shapes a hat. Turns out, this fiber has a mind of its own. Turns out, this fiber did not want to be a duplicate of the Silly Hat. It would. not. shrink to size. No amount of massaging, vigorous rolling, nor whacking it shrunk that sucker. It just said no. Uh uh. Ain't gonna do it. The crown fit. But the rest of it hung down to my chin. And because I had put a border on the bottom edge, but only on the outside, I couldn't turn it up as a brim to make it a pink elf hat. What to do. Cussing didn't help. But scrunching it up and beating it in frustration kind of did. It stretched. And I went "Ah haa!" It's not an it at all, but a she. Of course. With these colors?
Well, Woolybuns, although your results were not as expected, I, for one, am glad you had a go around with the Pink Damsel. Is there a slight Saturday Night Live influence?
Posted by: Leslie Wind | March 05, 2011 at 07:18 PM