Needle felting: the art of poking a ball of fluff until it becomes solid, or I get bored and walk away, likely the latter will happen first.
Andrea Graham
Andrea Graham
Andrea Graham
The above statement could not be written with more ignorance. Truth is, I’ve never actually done needle felting, but I’m about to, and I tend to get anxious about new things (yes really). There are the normal fears about not being good at things etc etc. Mostly I don’t like wasting my time, and felt looks indefensibly slow.
But any time the League offers a class I find myself curious about it. I can’t help myself. I research the topic, the materials, the tools, and the history of a thing. I look up artists, notice who picks it up and why. Sometimes I poke my head in the class to get a feel for what it’s like. Is there equipment needed? Supplies? How expensive is it? How complicated are the skills? How rigid are the methods? Does it take extensive planning? Is it cerebral? Playful? Relaxed? Messy? How likely is it that an absolute beginner will leave the class without a product they’ll be happy with? Every class is different, of course.
Zan on zoom, from the League’s “Felting Cats and Foxes” youth camp
The felting class is one of the easiest classes for set-up. It takes almost no space, the material is light and fluffy, and the inexpensive tools fit in a little pouch. There’s no mess. I’m sure you can get complicated about it, but it is logically step by step, and the complexities are easily controlled by the design. It seems surprisingly accommodating as a medium, especially considering you’re starting with an alchemist’s nothing, and coming up with something. You’re not just making a sculpture, you’re making the material that makes the sculpture, at the same time. That’s rather profound, artistically. I suppose you could even just start poking at the fluff, and add to it without preplanning – I’m reassured that it’s a friendly and accommodating medium – and even kids walk away with a happy little creation so there’s hope for the rest of us. The wool fluff (roving) costs a bit to get started, but it stores easily. And unlike oil paint, you can pick up a little project and make some forward progress with it for a relaxing 20 minutes, then set it aside. It won’t take space, it won’t ruin your clothes or the furniture, and it will wait until you’re ready.
Andrea Graham
Whenever I poke my head into a felting class it is calm. Anxieties releasing while hands gently work with soft attention, it seems like the kind of patient activity you can do while meditating, or while spending an easy hour with a friend. Children in our youth camps have no problem settling down to felt, so despite my earlier comment about getting bored and walking away, if it can hold a child’s focus, it might be able to hold my own ping pong ball brain.
I’ve decided to give felting a try this weekend. I’m going to get myself a tiny little Christmas tree, and I’m going to make some little felt ornaments. I may come to my senses, but I’m thinking of needling little red and green coronavirus balls. (Too soon?) Then if that goes well, I could see myself making weird little dolls and roundy things, a small collection building on my desk.
These works by Andrea Graham are giving me ideas. If you’re interested, the coupon (FELTIES) for this weekend’s felting class will still work until midnight, and the roving has next day delivery.
Yesterday I talked about trace monotypes: “Trace monotypes are made by laying paper down on an inked piece of plexiglass, then drawing a design on the back of the paper. The drawing tool presses the paper against the ink, making a dark line on the front of the paper.” – Ruthie V, circa yesterday Today …
[vc_row type=”in_container” full_screen_row_position=”middle” scene_position=”center” text_color=”dark” text_align=”left” overlay_strength=”0.3″][vc_column column_padding=”no-extra-padding” column_padding_position=”all” background_color_opacity=”1″ background_hover_color_opacity=”1″ column_shadow=”none” width=”1/1″ tablet_text_alignment=”default” phone_text_alignment=”default” column_border_width=”none” column_border_style=”solid”][image_with_animation image_url=”11400″ alignment=”” animation=”None” box_shadow=”none” max_width=”100%”][vc_column_text] Copper plate with grey ink (see print a few pics below) I met with Nikki today to get some schoolin’ on drypoint. Dypoint, the art of scratching a shiny surface with a pointy …
Right now at the Seattle Art Museum, there’s a show of Alberto Giacometti‘s artworks. His drawings, paintings, and sculptures will be on display at SAM until October 9th. This is the second in a series of posts about Alberto Giacometti, who lived from 1901 – 1966. Sculptures by Diego Giacometti Alberto Giacometti had a …
Felt Artist: Andrea Graham
Needle felting: the art of poking a ball of fluff until it becomes solid, or I get bored and walk away, likely the latter will happen first.
The above statement could not be written with more ignorance. Truth is, I’ve never actually done needle felting, but I’m about to, and I tend to get anxious about new things (yes really). There are the normal fears about not being good at things etc etc. Mostly I don’t like wasting my time, and felt looks indefensibly slow.
But any time the League offers a class I find myself curious about it. I can’t help myself. I research the topic, the materials, the tools, and the history of a thing. I look up artists, notice who picks it up and why. Sometimes I poke my head in the class to get a feel for what it’s like. Is there equipment needed? Supplies? How expensive is it? How complicated are the skills? How rigid are the methods? Does it take extensive planning? Is it cerebral? Playful? Relaxed? Messy? How likely is it that an absolute beginner will leave the class without a product they’ll be happy with? Every class is different, of course.
The felting class is one of the easiest classes for set-up. It takes almost no space, the material is light and fluffy, and the inexpensive tools fit in a little pouch. There’s no mess. I’m sure you can get complicated about it, but it is logically step by step, and the complexities are easily controlled by the design. It seems surprisingly accommodating as a medium, especially considering you’re starting with an alchemist’s nothing, and coming up with something. You’re not just making a sculpture, you’re making the material that makes the sculpture, at the same time. That’s rather profound, artistically. I suppose you could even just start poking at the fluff, and add to it without preplanning – I’m reassured that it’s a friendly and accommodating medium – and even kids walk away with a happy little creation so there’s hope for the rest of us. The wool fluff (roving) costs a bit to get started, but it stores easily. And unlike oil paint, you can pick up a little project and make some forward progress with it for a relaxing 20 minutes, then set it aside. It won’t take space, it won’t ruin your clothes or the furniture, and it will wait until you’re ready.
Whenever I poke my head into a felting class it is calm. Anxieties releasing while hands gently work with soft attention, it seems like the kind of patient activity you can do while meditating, or while spending an easy hour with a friend. Children in our youth camps have no problem settling down to felt, so despite my earlier comment about getting bored and walking away, if it can hold a child’s focus, it might be able to hold my own ping pong ball brain.
I’ve decided to give felting a try this weekend. I’m going to get myself a tiny little Christmas tree, and I’m going to make some little felt ornaments. I may come to my senses, but I’m thinking of needling little red and green coronavirus balls. (Too soon?) Then if that goes well, I could see myself making weird little dolls and roundy things, a small collection building on my desk.
These works by Andrea Graham are giving me ideas. If you’re interested, the coupon (FELTIES) for this weekend’s felting class will still work until midnight, and the roving has next day delivery.
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Yesterday I talked about trace monotypes: “Trace monotypes are made by laying paper down on an inked piece of plexiglass, then drawing a design on the back of the paper. The drawing tool presses the paper against the ink, making a dark line on the front of the paper.” – Ruthie V, circa yesterday Today …
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[vc_row type=”in_container” full_screen_row_position=”middle” scene_position=”center” text_color=”dark” text_align=”left” overlay_strength=”0.3″][vc_column column_padding=”no-extra-padding” column_padding_position=”all” background_color_opacity=”1″ background_hover_color_opacity=”1″ column_shadow=”none” width=”1/1″ tablet_text_alignment=”default” phone_text_alignment=”default” column_border_width=”none” column_border_style=”solid”][image_with_animation image_url=”11400″ alignment=”” animation=”None” box_shadow=”none” max_width=”100%”][vc_column_text] Copper plate with grey ink (see print a few pics below) I met with Nikki today to get some schoolin’ on drypoint. Dypoint, the art of scratching a shiny surface with a pointy …
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Right now at the Seattle Art Museum, there’s a show of Alberto Giacometti‘s artworks. His drawings, paintings, and sculptures will be on display at SAM until October 9th. This is the second in a series of posts about Alberto Giacometti, who lived from 1901 – 1966. Sculptures by Diego Giacometti Alberto Giacometti had a …