Showing posts with label crafts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crafts. Show all posts

Saturday, October 24, 2020

Attention Span


Day 11: I'm sure I'm not alone in this, but presently, my attention span is equivalent to that of a nervous gerbil. I can't focus, can't stick with any project more than five minutes, am flitting from craft to craft like a butterfly in a summer meadow. A twenty-throw sequence on the loom seems interminable, two full rotations of the kumihimo disk almost more than I can manage before I feel I can no longer sit still and dart out to feed the birds. Fortunately, I'm not a nail-biter or I'd have them chewed to the bone. That said, I want to feel I've accomplished something, completed a project, finished a task to reassure myself that I have some marginal control over the pattern of my life instead of feeling like Sisyphus, endlessly pushing his rock up the hill only to have it roll back down again. To keep from tearing out my remaining hair, I turn the disk again, draw the weft across the warp, finding little of the comfort I once took in watching fabric grow beneath my hands.

Friday, April 19, 2019

Two Dozen Motifs


Day 188: "Idle hands are the devil's playground." While I don't believe in a devil, my grandmother's caution is valid. Idle hands...or worse, an idle mind...are bound to find all sorts of mischief. Sixteen days ago, I started the Tablecloth Project. Since that time, I have been working in the garden, experimenting with colour-pooling crochet, making trips to Seattle and Puyallup for Morris dance practice and shopping, reading, hiking, playing Angry Birds, and I've still managed to make two dozen motifs. My goal is to tat at least one motif per day, so I'm ahead of the schedule which will put the tablecloth in next year's Washington State Fair.

People often ask me how I find time for all my crafts. The answer is simple: I don't watch TV, and that takes us back to my addendum to Gma's advice, i.e., the dangerous ground of the idle mind. Hands occupied with a craft and a mind attendant on preventing errors in a pattern don't have time to dwell on grievances and woes. Even better, you'll have something worthwhile when you're done rather than looking back at hours wasted in front of the idiot box. Craft-work may be frustrating when first learning a new technique or art, but even so, it provides mental stimulation, and working at a more familiar craft can be relaxing as well as rewarding. Put down the remote (better yet, have a friend hide it) and pick up your knitting needles, paintbrushes, potter's clay, whatever, and make something. It's good for you.

Saturday, February 23, 2019

Beadwork


Day 133: Although what springs immediately to mind upon hearing the word "needlearts" (i.e., knitting, crocheting, tatting or other handcraft involving hooks, needles and thread), beadwork nevertheless falls within the definition of "art-needlework." I don't do as much of it as I used to, largely because the finished product is closer to art than it is to functionaltiy, but every now and then, I break out the hair-fine needles and waxed threads and settle in with pots of #11 or #13 seed beads arrayed on the table beside my chair. This, of course, is an invitation to CATastrophe despite the fact that both Skunk and Tip know they are not allowed on hard surfaces. Curious noses nevertheless investigate and the occasional probing paw dabbles where it should not, and tiny beads are enormously hard to retrieve from carpet plush. Nor is the fault always feline; I have been known to reach for my coffee only to knock over a stack of bead jars. Yarns and threads are much easier to untangle, therefore beadwork is done more or less as special occasions demand.

Friday, February 15, 2019

Art Imitating Nature



Day 125: I have my own pussywillow tree now, started from a slip nicked out of an abandoned city lot some twenty years back and now grown to a height of 15 feet, but during the era when I lived on one of southwest Washington's camas prairies, this iconic harbinger of spring was bloody hard to find. In prior years, it was my custom to cut a single branch to celebrate winter's passage, but when I moved to the prairie, most of the time I had to do without. In desperation, I decided to take matters into my own hands, literally. Equipping myself with copper wire, brown florists' tape and a package of silver-grey "deedly-balls," I counterfeited several twigs of our small native pussywillow, totally bogus but perennially in bloom. My living tree (a cultivated variety) has stouter stems and pointier catkins. Can you find the real one among the fakes?

Wednesday, August 8, 2018

Selfies!



Day 299: Kitty selfies! As you can probably guess from the title of the book, the portraits were hand-felted from Tip's and Skunk's fur. A friend had sent me the book suggestion as a joke, but I took it seriously and ordered it almost immediately. I'm always interested in learning new crafts, and needle-felting was something I'd never tried. Special felting needles with barbed points are used to mingle wool (or cat hair) onto a base fabric or into its own fibers to form a matted fabric similar to the felt you'd purchase in a crafts store. Here, I used a commercial felt square for the background, shaping the cats with the aid of a plastic stencil. Stray hairs always linger around the edges, and these were trimmed away with embroidery scissors to give more defined outlines. I made Tip (the black kitty) first to get a feel for the process and then created Skunk, a more challenging subject because of her colouration. Each kitty took about fifteen minutes to complete. The same technique can be used with wool (sheep, llama, goat, etc.). To protect the felter's lap from inadvertent pokes, felting is done on a thick piece of foam, but mind your fingertips! Warning issued, rest assured that no cats or mamas were damaged in the making of these "self-portraits."

Sunday, April 8, 2018

Kumihimo Braiding


Day 177: I have to admit that I don't know much about the history of kumihimo beyond the fact that it originated in Japan and was traditionally made on a barstool-like table called a marudai. Wikipedia goes into greater detail, as do many websites. I became interested in it as a means of making sinnets such as those created by sailors and depicted in "Ashley's Book of Knots" and other nautical references. Kumihimo can be done much more quickly and at least in my hands, with more even tension than working with untensioned cord, and of course by using a kumihimo loom (disk or plate), much finer threads can be employed. Durable closed-cell foam looms are available in many craft stores. Good threads are somewhat harder to come by. The craft outlets push nylon rattail and hemp, both of which give a coarse, clunky product unlike silk, rayon or floss. Kumihimo has seen an upsurge in popularity over the last few years thanks to the attention it has received from the jewelry trade, and much modern kumihimo is done with beads strung on the warp. However, I feel that its true beauty lies in the intricate patterns which can be woven with variously coloured cords. Here, I've done up some samples in simple 8-strand and 12-strand braiding. The blue/green/purple strand is a work in progress.

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Day Projects


Day 40: Although friends may liken me to a bulldog when I have something between my teeth, that steadfast determination runs concurrently with an amazingly short attention span. My big projects consume vast portions of my time, but I tend to hit one, work on it for half an hour or less, and then pick up something different. As one is completed, another takes its place. In the end, they all get done by whatever deadline I may have set (if any). In addition to my regular diet of needlework and sewing, the occasional "day project" adds spice to the recipe. Day projects are quick fillers and although some of them may actually take more than a day to complete, most can be fiddled up in an hour or two. Having a store of short-term resources keeps me from getting bored. That said, another secret to bringing each thing to completion is that I don't allow myself to work on more than one item in a specific genre, e.g., I won't start knitting a hat if I have socks on the needles. If the hat was to be crocheted instead, that would be allowable as long as I didn't have another crochet project on board. Day projects may include such novelties as casting soaps, pouring candles, paper-making, beadwork, etc. The necklace and earring set shown above took less than an hour and will be a Christmas gift for a very special friend.

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Twenty-Year Quilt


Day 299: I don't recall what year I actually started this quilt. I can only date it by saying that Cocoa (my Cockatoo) liked to use it for a trampoline once it was stretched in the hoop for stitching. That dates it to at least 2001, and since the machine-piecing was done by that point, I'd say we can safely add another two years, maybe even three. Let's make it a nice round number, and call it twenty years ago, ergo the "Twenty-Year Quilt."

I used to call it the "Mistake Quilt." Y'see, all those little squares were supposed to be part of a different top, but somebody (-cough-) forgot to add the seam allowance when she cut them out. In a hasty revision of plan, this version was born. The fact of the matter is that I've made dozens of quilts over the years and have given away all but one which Cocoa also helped create. Every one with the exception of the one I kept have been tied with yarn rather than stitched to hold the batting in place. With its open blocks, this one seemed to beg for hand-stitching even though the quilt itself was pieced on the machine. I can make all sorts of excuses for why it's taken so long to finish: my fingers got sore, I had company over and needed to get the frame out of the way, I got bored...but the truth of the matter is that it brings back memories of Cocoa, and not all of them are things I want to think about. I've worked more diligently at the task over the last several days than during any other time since his passing, but sometimes those dark remembrances still float to the surface while my fingers are busy and my mind is not. It has taken twenty years, but I've taught myself to block their intrusion and wilfully force them back in the box. When I am done (and I truly believe I'll finish it over the next few weeks), the back will bear an embroidered tag with my name and the date, and the words "Cocoa helped." It will no longer be the Mistake Quilt or the Twenty-Year Quilt. It will be Cocoa's Quilt, and thus an heirloom.

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Sunprinting


Day 292: Some 35 years ago, a friend gave me a gift of a "sunprint" kit. Technically, this is referred to as the cyanotype process, and uses certain ferric salts to create a negative image. It is the same process used for architectural blueprints, and was developed by Sir John Herschel in the mid-1800s. My original kit included several sheets of treated paper which I cut up into smaller pieces and carried into the deep backcountry during an off-trail trip to one of my favourite places on Earth. There, I made sunprints from a few significant items, one of which I eventually mounted in a frame and set on my fireplace mantel. The others are tucked safely away in a box of memorabilia. I wanted to share the fun with friends so recently purchased two kits to give as gifts as well as one for myself, and then I settled in to wait for a sunny day.

The cyanotype emulsion is sensitive to UV light and can require a fairly long exposure to get good results. Sun is something of a precious commodity in the Pacific Northwest, so when the opportunity availed itself, I scouted around the garden for items I thought seemed "artful." I selected Cosmos foliage and flowers for my first print, fern fronds for the second. Maybe I should thank the thinning ozone layer for the rich blue prints which were the result of only a few minutes' exposure time, or perhaps it was the addition of a few drops of lemon juice to the rinse, but in any event, I am very pleased with the outcome. As for that 35-year old print on my mantel, it is still as blue as the day I made it.

Saturday, December 17, 2016

Temari



Day 65: Mind your spelling, here! We're talking about Japanese thread balls (temari), not thicker soy sauce (tamari). This art was originally developed in China, but was taken up in Japan at least 1000 years ago. In the traditional style, the ball is made entirely of thread, coarser in the center and finest on the exterior. Oftentimes the last layers are wound with very fine silk. Modern practitioners (at least lazy ones like me) start with a felt-covered styrofoam core and use materials such as #12 perle cotton and sewing thread.

Once the initial colour layer has been laid on, the ball is marked out with pins in equal divisions (in this case, 16), and then the decorative threads are wound according to a pattern. Many different designs can be achieved using the same division, but care must be taken to keep the segments precisely equal both in pinning and while wrapping. Occasionally, a final layer may be stitched in place, such as has been done here with the gold cross-hatch encasing the horizontal band.

This design ("Chrysanthemum") is one of my favourites. I haven't made temari in years and although I've given many as gifts, I've only retained a few for the Christmas tree.

Thursday, July 2, 2015

Lavender Bottles

Day 262: It's been years since I made lavender bottles. I saw no particular need, since the one in my "dainties" drawer still had some fragrance. That said, I figured it could use refreshing, and with a sufficient supply of lavender in my garden, I parked myself on a lawn chair in the shade of the contorted filbert during the cool of the morning and set to weaving. By the time I was done, I had half a dozen, plus a vaseful of flower spikes too stiff to bend.

Also known by the rather boring name of lavender wands, lavender bottles are fairly simple to make. Pick an odd number of long stems (11 or 13 makes a nice bottle), strip them of leaves and isolated flower clusters and bunch them up. Lay the tail of a spool of 3 mm. ribbon (do not cut!) among the flower heads with three inches projecting beyond the tips of the flowers. Tie a piece of string around the flowers and ribbon tail just below the bases of the spikes. Give each stem a gentle pull to be sure the bottom flowers are snugged up against the tie-off because that is where the stems will be the most flexible. Otherwise, you risk breaking them. Now gently bend each stem down to form a "cage" around the flowers.

Weaving will be done with the ribbon coming off the spool. Set the spool on the table. You will not handle it during the weaving. The first two rows are the hardest. Hold the wand in one hand (left, if you're right-handed) and as you weave over-and-under, rotate the wand. Keep the ribbon flat as it weaves through the stems, and try not to leave any gaps between rows. Be sure to keep any string tails inside the weaving. When you have covered the flower heads entirely, cut the ribbon from the spool leaving about four inches. Wrap each ribbon tail around the wand in either direction, and tie off with a square knot topped by a bow.

The fragrance of lavender lasts for many years, even beyond the time when the stems dry and become brittle. Where does the "bottle" portion of the name originate? I haven't got a clue.

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Quilling


Day 26: Quilling, a craft which enjoyed the peak of its popularity during the mid-1800s, is still practiced by a proportionally small number of artists today. Named for the feather quills which were originally the tool of choice, today's quilling utilizes a needle or bodkin on which to form rolls from narrow strips of paper. Rolls may be made larger or smaller as the artist requires for a specific pattern, and may be relaxed and/or pinched depending on the shape desired. Once a number of rolls have been made, they are lightly glued together, and then may be attached to a paper backing if meant for a framed display.

Quilling often takes form as snowflakes or flowers. Creating a piece of quilled art may take anything from just a few to hundreds of tiny rolls. Count the curls in either of the two snowflake patterns shown here and you'll see what I mean.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Yarn Eggs



Day 146: First of all, I would like to thank my friend Kelli for posting the instructions for making these Easter eggs where I could see them. They sounded quite easy to make, so I picked up all the supplies last week and sat myself down to the task. Immediately, I found myself challenged by trying to insert a foil-covered chocolate egg into a water balloon (hints will follow at the end of this article). Once I'd got the candy into the neck of the balloon, I struggled with inflating it, but once it started to expand, the egg popped neatly into the enlarged form. The next part of the project involved wrapping yarn soaked in a mixture of glue and water around the slippery inflated balloon. At first, this proved to be rather difficult to accomplish without having it slide off, but in subsequent attempts, I learned to control the tension. Once the yarn was laid on, I looped a twist-tie around the mouth of the balloon and hung the eggs to dry. Surprisingly, when it came time to remove the balloon from the center, it peeled away from the yarn easily.

Now, if you're interested in making these, I'll expand on the original instructions. You will need yarn, water balloons (regular balloons will NOT do), quick-drying craft glue and chocolate eggs. The project will be a lot easier if you have an assistant, but it can be accomplished by one person.

Water balloons are VERY stretchy and tough. This was something I did not know when I began working. Stretch the neck as wide as you can manage, pulling it apart until you can maneuver a chocolate egg into the opening. It does not have to drop into the body of the balloon, but after you've done a few, you'll discover that it's possible. Now inflate the balloon to a nice size (don't fully inflate it) and tie off the neck. Mix one part craft glue with one part water (a tablespoon of each will be sufficient for three eggs). Soak a 6-yard length of yarn in the glue mixture while keeping the ends in your hand. Wring out as much of the glue as possible, returning it to the bowl. Separate the yarn ends and begin winding the yarn snugly but not tightly around the balloon. Make a conscious effort to keep the crossings from bulking up in any one spot. Always remember that you don't want the chocolate to fall out through one of the holes, so be mindful of spacing. You can manipulate the threads a little after wrapping is complete. When you're done wrapping, tuck the end of the yarn under one of the threads to conceal it. Wrap a twist-tie around the balloon neck and hang your masterpiece up to dry.

When the eggs are completely dry, poke a hole in the large end of the balloon and scissor an opening large enough for the chocolate to escape. You may have to make a couple of incisions. Pull the balloon pieces out of the egg with the point of your scissors or a pair of needlenosed pliers. Be careful not to pull any of the yarn intersections apart, but if you happen to do so, stick another candy inside and dab a little glue on the yarn to reseal it.

This honestly is a quick, cute project once you've worked out the fine points of construction. You have plenty of time between now and Easter to make them for your friends!

Monday, December 30, 2013

I'll Huff And I'll Puff...



Day 89: The origami light string project is nearing completion. Now it's time to blow them up! The ones made using standard origami paper are easiest. A quick puff of breath into the hole at the end and the sides of the balls pop out with a snap. The heavier rice paper ones are a challenge. The paper is "breatheable," like Goretex fabric. They take a bit of tugging at the corners to pull into shape.

I won't be giving the Big Bad Wolf any competition. I've huffed and I've puffed until I've gone dizzy, but I'll have the string done for New Year's!

Saturday, December 28, 2013

Teensy-Tiny Beaded Corn



Day 87: A few days ago, I posted a photo of a Christmas ornament I had made using #6 seed beads to create a "cob of corn" approximately three inches long (not counting the husks). I mentioned to a friend that I had made similar cobs on a much smaller scale, so here they are with a dime for comparison. The beaded portion is 5/8" in length. They're worked in square stitch over a piece of rolled pigskin leather which also forms the husks. #13 seed beads were used in the construction.

As a very small person, I seem to gravitate toward the "micro" end of the scale with my crafts. I prefer knitting and crocheting with the finer needles and threads, seldom do cross-stitch on anything larger than 18-count canvas. Larger materials feel cumbersome in my hands; working with size 8 or 9 knitting needles and worsted feels like wielding a pair of spars to knit ship's hawser.

While fine yarns and threads are somewhat difficult to find these days, tiny beads are available in a wide selection of colors at my favorite bead store. That said, I normally work with #10 seeds unless I'm in the mood for corn.

Friday, December 27, 2013

Making A Paper Ball



Day 86: You'll find instructions for this origami figure in almost any book or website offering a basic introduction to the art of paper folding, however, what I'm showing you here is just one component of a kit given to me as a Christmas present from my good friend Patty. When I have all the balls folded and inflated, they will be installed along a string of lights, and hopefully, I'll have them done in time for New Year's Eve. Patty was curious how you got from a flat sheet of paper to a cute little ball, so I promised to take pictures of the steps.

First, fold your piece of origami paper on the diagonal (white to the inside). Unfold it, and fold it again along the other diagonal. Lay it out flat. You will see that you have fold lines which intersect in the middle of the paper. Now turn the paper over, and fold it in half across the width of the paper (color to the inside). Only make one fold. Now we'll collapse the figure. Lay the form on the table, colored side up, and push the edges in so that the intersection of fold lines rises as a peak. Flatten it out, and you'll see that you've created the triangular form shown in the second image.

Next take the outer points of the triangle to the center of the peak and crease the folds on one side of the form. Do the same for the opposite side. You now have a square. Fold the side points in to meet at the center (bottom of the third image) and crease them well. For simplicity's sake, the images from here on only show the fold on one side of the figure. Repeat the identical folds on the opposite side of the form.

In the first of the middle row of images, you can see the points folded in during the last step. Above them, you will fold down the top points to make a crease. The top points should be returned to their previous position after creasing. Now following the second image, fold the tips of the points down to meet the center junction. The third move in this series is a little tricky. Those points must be inserted into the little "pockets" in the side folds. It helps if you curl them slightly with a thumbnail. Once you have them seated in the pockets, be sure they are well creased. Your form will look like the first figure in the bottom row.

To inflate the ball, open it out as shown in the center bottom photo. At one end, there will be a small hole where the paper edges meet. Put it up to your lips and give a quick, firm blow. The ball should puff out into its inflated shape! Have a ball making your own origami light string!

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Temari


Day 85: The first time it happened, I was humiliated to tears. I was attending a Tupperware party at a neighbor's, joining in conversation several women previously unknown to me. The subject matter of our chatting was varied, as you might expect and reclusive as I normally am, I felt I was doing the socially proper thing by adding my two cents' worth where it might be of value. One of the ladies happened to mention that she was laying new linoleum in her bathroom but was having difficulty fitting it around the base of the toilet. Having done some home repair in that line, I suggested that she purchase a template-making tool, a comb-like device which can be pushed against an object, the teeth retracting in such a manner that an outline of the item is obtained. I expected her to ask me if I knew where she could get one. She did not. Her mouth hardened and she said sharply, "Isn't there anything you don't know something about?" I could have died of shame in that moment. Instead, I retreated to a corner and said nothing more for the duration of the party.

Several years ago, when one of my sisters-of-the-heart came to visit me for the first time, I was showing her various craft items I'd created, including some greeting cards embellished with ribbon. The template episode resurfaced when she said, "I suppose you made the paper, too." However, by this point in my life, I had become so accustomed to remarks of that sort that I responded, "Um, yeah...as a matter of fact, I did."

A day or so ago, the subject of Temari came up when another friend posted a picture. Without thinking about it, I said, "Oh, temari! Somewhere around here, I have a bunch I made years ago."

My friend's response was predictable: "Of course you have done this." My foot had found my mouth again.

I have to tell you that I still cringe when "Isn't there anything you don't know something about?" comes back to haunt me in some form or another. The alternative course of action is to learn to keep my big mouth shut (something I've tried to do with very little success). I've lived a long life, and I've done a lot of interesting things despite the fact that I'd tell you I've found it rather boring. My passion for crafts was instilled in me by a grandmother who taught me that my hands should never be idle, and as my friends would tell you, my craving for new adventures still runs strongly indeed. I love to learn and I love to create, and perhaps to my undoing, I love to teach. Therein lies the problem. I can't make myself bite off the words which might open an avenue to instruct. I'm not an insufferable know-it-all looking to be the center of attention. I simply want to inspire others to explore and learn.

Temari originated in China but is best known as a Japanese art form. The balls are created by wrapping layer upon layer upon layer of thread or fabric strips in precise patterns. These temari were made using sewing thread and perle cotton.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Lavender Bottles



Day 266: Why "bottles?" Is it because of the shape? Truthfully, I have no idea, but "bottles" is what they are called, or alternately, "wands." They make wonderful old-fashioned gifts for anyone who loves the refreshing scent of lavender. I like to keep a couple in my "dainties" drawer.

To create a bottle, you will need an odd number of lavender stems (I've used 11), preferably with the flowers just on the verge of opening. You will also want a supply of 1/8 (3 mm.) satin ribbon. Each bottle requires approximately one yard, although this depends on the length of the flowering portion of the plant. Gather the stems together and tie them snugly with thread or string just beneath the flower heads, being careful not to draw the thread too tightly or you may cut into the stems. Now carefully bend each stem back from the tie. The stems can be broken easily, so ease them gently until they are all pointing toward the top of the flower head.

Fold the ribbon about half an inch from the end and loop it over a stem, sliding it up the stem until it reaches the tie. Now begin weaving over and under, working the tail of ribbon into the weave as you go (keep the short end to the inside). Keep your weaving close together, adjusting it as necessary as you work down the length, covering the gathered flower heads. When you reach the bottom, secure the end with thread or glue, or work it carefully into the interior of the bottle. Then cut a shorter length of ribbon and tie it in a bow near the base.

Lavender bottles will keep their scent for years. Why not make some for your friends?

Friday, May 17, 2013

Braid With No Ends


Day 227: How can you braid the middle of a leather strip if you don't have loose ends to work with? Why, just like you'd braid anything else, right over left, left over right. Don't believe me? Here's how!

For practice, cut a strip of suede one foot long and one inch wide. Mark lengthwise lines at 1/3 and 2/3 inches, fold the piece in half and make a small snip at the center of each division. Unfold the leather, insert your scissors in the snip and cut along the line until you're one inch from each end. Do not cut all the way through the ends! (See the first illustration.) Now begin braiding, passing the righthand strip over the center, followed by the farthest left strip over the center (second image). Do these two moves two more times until the strands return to their original positions (third and fourth images). These six moves constitute one full sequence.

But oh, golly! Look at the mess on the other end! It braided itself while you weren't looking! Now you have to straighten that out!

Hold the braided section in place firmly with one hand, securing all strands in their original positions. This is the critical step, shown in the fifth image. See the back (unsueded) side of the leather with the pencil line on it? That's the "tail" you'll be using to unbraid. With your other hand, feed the "tail" back through the tangle, following the intuitive line of travel. You may find that some strands twist in the progress of the work. Just keep fussing with it until they straighten out (sixth image). But remember, you must hold the braided section in place! Don't let go, or you'll have a bigger mess. You may want to hold the braided section against the table until you get the hang of unbraiding.

Once you have the tangle sorted out, you're ready to do another full braiding sequence. Remember, there are six moves to each sequence. When you've done all six (seventh image), secure the braided section with one hand, and with the other hand, unbraid the tail again. Keep repeating the braiding/unbraiding sequence until you have a comfortable, relaxed braided section (eighth image). If the strands want to lay over on their sides, you've done too many sequences.
When your piece is done, work the strands with your fingers until they lay more or less smooothly (bottom left). If you'd like, you can press them between two big books to flatten them out. Or you can unbraid your practice piece and re-do it before starting on a serious project. The little bookmark (bottom right) is half an inch wide and contains only a single braiding sequence. A few beads, and you have a nice little personalized "thank-you" gift for someone.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Weave A Paper Heart Basket


Day 212: By popular request, here is a set of visual instructions for creating the heart-shaped interlaced paper May basket I posted yesterday. You will need two sheets of colored paper (two colors), a ruler, a pencil, scissors and glue if you want to add a handle.

Begin by creating a heart-shaped template. Using an engineering compass or by tracing around a jar lid or glass, draw a circle. Fold it in two neatly and on another sheet of paper, trace around the edges with a pencil. This gives you the curved upper portion of the heart. Measure across the diameter of the circle, and then draw a square with the sides equal to the diameter, i.e., if your circle has a three-inch diameter, your square will have three-inch sides. Align the square with the straight edge of the half-circle you drew on the second piece of paper and trace around the edge of the square. Bingo! You now have a half-heart template!

Step One (top left): Trace around the template onto your sheets of colored paper. Mark the points where the semicircle and square meet and draw a line from point to point. Next, divide the lower portion of the half-heart into five equal sections lengthwise (a center-finding ruler works best, but any ruler will do if you measure accurately).

Step Two (top right): Cut carefully along the lengthwise lines, taking the cut just slightly beyond the horizontal line which divides the curve of the heart from the lower portion. Reverse the fold of the half-hearts so that any pencil markings are on the inside.

Step Three (middle left): Begin weaving the folded tips by passing the innermost blue strip through the center of innermost orange strip. Then pass the orange strip through the center of the second blue strip. At this point, the work progresses on an angle and is fairly easy.

Step Four (middle right): Do not completely weave any strip all the way across at this point! Gradually add in new weaving until the work becomes too tightly packed to weave the last strip. Ease the first strips of weaving toward the curve of the heart, being careful not to tear the paper.

Step Five (lower left): The last few weavings will be the most difficult. Continue working the earlier strips toward the curve of the heart until the final strip of orange can be passed through or over the last two strips of blue. Patience is the key here, and if you want a real challenge, try making a two-inch heart out of fragile origami foil!

Step Six (lower right): Your woven heart is complete! Add a handle by gluing on a strip of leftover paper, or even glue a narrow strip of the contrasting color to the center for a fancier look.

This pattern was originally published in the Jan.-Feb. 1989 issue of "Cross-Stitch and Country Crafts." I adapted its size so that it was suitable for a May basket.