Posts Tagged ‘plant dyes’
harvesting colour – the vegetable stand
Gardens are bursting with fresh produce and we have gone to the farmer’s vegetable stand every couple of days to get our fill of locally grown food. We usually look for new potatoes, yellow wax beans, beets, carrots, green onions and zucchini.
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vegetables at the farmer’s stand
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This year, as a result of my ‘harvesting colour’ project, I am more anxious than ever to collect those carrot tops and the abundant leaves of beet and radish. Cooking these leaves in my dyeing ‘cauldron’ fills the air with the savory smell of vegetable soup, and makes me wonder what colour will emerge from the dye pot.
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beet leaves and stems ready for the boil
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Orange carrots, red beets and scarlet radishes … I am sad to say my expectations were low. I was certain every batch of leaves would yield yet another shade of brown. For radishes and beets, I was correct. Beautiful browns.
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my hand-spun balls of wool from radish and beet leaves … the pink is from my earlier tests with pickled beets
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Imagine my delight when the carrot leaves yielded a bright celery green!
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dye and wool roving from a boil of carrot tops
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I tried to repeat the colour on a second length of wool roving, but the second simmering gave me a gold shade of brown. The dyestuff had offered up all its green colour in the first boil!
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colours of wool obtained from the first and second boil in a dyestuff of carrot tops
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vegetable bin
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most look for
vitamins and
anti-oxidants
seek the colourful plate
look at the farmer’s display and see
carrot orange
radish red
spinach green
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a dyer looks
for juicy leaves
and the possibility of yet
another shade
of brown
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
learning to spin
All spring and summer, I have been dyeing wool roving with dyestuff collected from the roadside and garden. I have always intended to use this wool in some of my weaving projects, but lately, I have decided to first spin the wool roving into yarn. Everyone recommends learning first to spin with a drop spindle, later graduating to a spinning wheel.
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First, I went online to learn the basics and decide which drop spindle I should use. Then I ordered my maple bottom whorl drop spindle on eBay for $7.95 ( $15.60, including shipping).
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To spin, I first attach an end of the roving to the hook on the end of the spindle. The method is to tease out a sparse bundle of fibres and spin the spindle, twisting the section of wool into a thread. I spin the spindle counterclockwise, pinching the wool as I tease it out, holding the spindle still on my lap when I have to use both hands. Eventually, I will get better and be able to hold the spindle in the air with one hand and spin the spindle with the other. I do this a bit now, but I am plagued by breaking wool. For an enjoyable beginner’s lesson in spinning, see Jennifer Beamer’s video at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FtBLIg4JhNI .
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Spinning with a drop spindle is addictive! I now spin the roving as soon as it is dry after dyeing. My yarn is still very knobbly – a little like the yarn you use to knit those bulky sweaters! My balls of yarn are getting better all the time, although I have trouble getting too much spin into the yarn, so it twists up on itself quite easily!
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So far I have eleven balls of wool: Tansy, Old-Man’s-Beard, Bugleweed, Alder bark, Lily of the Valley (2 balls), Beet roots, Beet leaves, Carrot leaves, Radish leaves, and Comfrey.
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This is so much fun!
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
colour transfers
As I was preparing my eco-bundles for steaming ( https://nichepoetryandprose.wordpress.com/2014/06/20/an-attempt-at-ecoprinting/ ), I was thinking the words ‘heat’ and ‘steam’ – after 30 years of ironing my husband’s work shirts every morning, these words mean ‘steam iron’ to me. So I wondered if it would be possible to transfer the colour of a flower to cloth using my iron.
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So far, I have tried two species: Bugleweed (Ajuga reptans) from under our apple trees, and Birdsfoot Trefoil (Lotus corniculatus) from the roadside …
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basket of Bugleweed
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I placed the flowers between two layers of cotton, sprayed the material with water and pressed down with the steam iron set on medium. I pressed fairly hard and ironed the cloth/flower sandwich until it was dry. Then I wetted it again and continued until I had transferred the colour …
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using the steam iron to transfer colour from Birdsfoot trefoil to cotton
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It took five successive sets of wetting and pressing to obtain the colour. The blues of Bugleweed turned out best …
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colour transfers from Bugleweed (the pale green in the background is made with leaves from my rosebush)
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But the yellow colour from petals and stems of the Birdsfoot trefoil also came out well …
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colour transfers from Birdsfoot trefoil
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Now I have two new colour patterns to add to my future ‘harvesting colour’ quilt !
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colour transfers using Bugleweed and Birdsfoot trefoil
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
an attempt at ecoprinting
After our drive to Canterbury over the weekend, I was anxious to capture some of the roadside flower colour in my ‘harvesting colour’ experiments. I decided to try a technique described by India Flint in her book Eco Colour: Botanical Dyes for Beautiful Textiles (Interweave Press, 2010). ‘Ecoprinting’ involves bringing a plant into close contact with a fabric in order to transfer the colour to the cloth. I am very impressed with the effects shown in Eco Colour – prints of leaves, flowers and berries.
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For my experiment I tried a handful of the Forget-me-nots I collected on our weekend drive …
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Forget-me-nots in the woods
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a bundle of the purple Lupins growing along the road in my community …
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Lupins along the road
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and a bunch of a ground cover plant growing in my yard, Bugleweed (Ajuga reptans) …
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Bugleweed in the orchard
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basket of Bugleweed
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I only used small samples of cloth … my idea is to use these ‘patches’ to make a little quilt to show the results of my ‘colour harvest’. I arranged a few of the flowers, both petals and leaves, inside the cloth …
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Forget-me-nots on cotton
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Lupin petals and leaves on cotton
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Bugleweed on cotton
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Then I folded the cloth in half, enclosing the flowers like a sandwich …
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flowers folded in cotton
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and rolled the cloth up tightly …
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rolling the bundle tightly
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and tied it with cotton thread …
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flower and cotton bundles
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I put my bundles in a wire basket and steamed them for an hour …
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flower and cotton bundles steaming (as usual I have thrown in a bit of woods and sky)
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After cooling, I opened the bundles, discarded the leaves and flowers, and rinsed the cloth. I was quite pleased with the results. After ironing, I have a pale array of colour. The Bugleweed left a definite lime green. The Lupin a more indefinite green and pale violet. The Forget-me-nots left a faint violet-grey.
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pale colour
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I did not get the flower and leaf impressions I expected, but I will keep trying. There are so many variables, steaming time and ‘unbundling’ time among them. I do hope to see that lovely lime green again!!!
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
comforting Comfrey brown
As I try using various plants as a source of dye, I am realising how many shades of brown there are !!!
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Over the weekend, I did a dye vat of Comfrey. Comfrey (Symphytum officinale) is a flowering plant often found in older gardens. It is a useful plant for gardeners … as a fertilizer, it contributes impressive amounts of nitrogen and potassium. As a compost component, it adds heat and moisture, and helps to speed up the composting process. In the past, Comfrey was recommended as a tea and a medicinal. However, the plant contains alkaloids. Taken internally, these can cause severe damage to the liver and, in Canada, the sale of products containing Comfrey is prohibited.
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Comfrey grows in large clumps of linear leaves, up to a meter tall. Its stately foliage provides a great backdrop for smaller plants. Later in the season, it will produce curved clusters of bluish-purple flowers.
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Comfrey in my garden
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The underside of each Comfrey leaf is a maze of raised veins …
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leaves of Comfrey, showing the veins on the underside of each leaf
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To make the dye, I added the leaves, coarsely chopped, to 6 liters of water. I couldn’t resist throwing in my rusty square nail, to add a touch of iron to the mix …
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Comfrey leaves in water, cut up and ready for the boil
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After boiling for an hour, I had a pale apricot-coloured liquid …
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pale apricot colour of the Comfrey dye
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I strained and discarded the leaves (in my compost of course) and allowed the liquid to cool. Then I added some of my wool roving, pre-treated with alum, and simmered the wool for about an hour.
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The result was yet another shade of brown, so similar, yet so different from the browns I obtained from Alder, Old Man’s Beard lichen and Tansy …
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various dyes on wool roving (left to right): Alder bark, Old Man’s Beard lichen, Comfrey, Tansy and a glimpse of Beet
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The Comfrey brown is a brown of the forest, without the orange or yellow undertones of the other browns I have made. This is the brown of the wild rabbit I saw in our driveway last week. It is the buff brown of the heads of Pine Siskins visiting our bird feeders in winter. This brown reminds me of soft mitten wool and caterpillar cocoons. From Comfrey comes a very comforting brown.
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Although I could use my wool roving ‘as is’ in my weaving, I have decided to spin the wool. First, of course, I have to learn to spin. A maple drop spindle should be waiting in my mailbox later in the week. So many projects … good thing the days are getting longer !!!
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
harvesting colour … lily of the valley
Now that green is the dominant colour outside my door, I am anxious to try dyeing with every plant I see. I was particularly anxious to see if I could coax colour from the Lily of the Valley crowding around my walkway.
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leaves of Lily of the Valley and Wild Lily of the Valley
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The green leaves in the photo above are from two different plants, the smaller single leaves of Wild Lily of the Valley (Maianthemum canadense) and the larger furled Lily of the Valley (Convallaria majalis). The larger Lily of the Valley produces a dye with seasonal qualities – dark green in spring and yellow in fall.
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‘pips’ of Lily of the Valley
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The rolled emerging leaves of the Lily of the Valley are called ‘pips’. The pips squeak as they are collected. I think they want to be left alone!
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Lily of the Valley leaves in water
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I cut the leaves into one inch pieces and left them for an hour to simmer in water. I added some iron to the mix, to serve as a colour modifier – a square-headed nail, a railroad spike and a rusty horseshoe. The water was pale green at first, but as it began to cool, it became a dark, almost black, green …
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dark dye from Lily of the Valley
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Once the water cooled, I strained the liquid and added the wool. After bringing it to a boil, I let it cool gradually – wool hates sudden changes in temperature …
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wool roving, treated with alum, in the dark Lily of the Valley dye
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The resulting colour was dark grey. I also did a vat without the addition of iron and the result was a slightly paler grey.
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dark grey of wool roving dyed with Lily of the Valley
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This is my last dyeing experiment with Lily of the Valley. All the parts of the plant are poisonous with compounds known as glycosides. Ingested, these compounds have an effect on the heart and can cause fatal circulatory, gastrointestinal and respiratory problems. If you are a fan of the TV show Breaking Bad, you will know that Walt used Lily of the Valley in a scheme to kill one of his enemies.
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Although I took precautions, doing the boiling outside and disposing of the liquid in the woods, far from our well or the stream, I was not comfortable working with such a poisonous plant. While the water was boiling, the smell was thick and noxious and my mouth had a metallic taste all day. I was jittery before I went to bed, convinced that breathing the vapours would be the end of me. I am fine today, but I don’t recommend using Lily of the Valley as a dye. The dark grey colour obtained is not worth the risk. And the lovely scent of the Lily of the Valley flowers is the plant’s first, best use.
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2013 ‘lily-of-the-valley’ Jane Tims
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
beet pink
Last week, I tried dyeing some wool roving with the juice of pickled beets …
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Yesterday I opened the jar and rinsed the wool in cool water. Looks like a lot of the colour still went down the drain …
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And the final result? A pretty pink. Reminds me of the pink batts of insulation we installed in our walls! The wool is not scratchy at all, but soft and fragrant.
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Gradually I am building a rainbow of colour on my drying rack …
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from right to left: wool roving prepared with alum as a mordant; wool dyed with Tansy; wool dyed with Old Man’s Beard lichen; and wool dyed with pickled beet juice
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I am still working on the poem to capture this experience … it’s not quite ready to share.
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
harvesting colour – soaking the bark
Birch bark is on my top ten list of natural phenomena. Just the outer covering of a tree, but for me it has so many associations.
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Walking in a stand of birch is an experience like no other. The trees are ghosts, wavering and pale, unable to speak but capable of subtle quiet communication. In the slightest breeze, they whisper in short syllables, dry murmurings I cannot quite understand.
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Birch bark is magical. Unravelled from its tree by a little tugging of the wind. Like paper, in thin dry sheets. Covered in unreadable script. You know removing the bark could be dangerous for the tree but it lures you, encourages you to reach out and strip it away in unbroken, unblemished reels.
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Such a useful tree: birch bark canoes, tinder for a campfire, sweet sap from yellow birch, the wintergreen scent of crushed yellow birch twigs. And now, the promise of colour.
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Using bark as dyestuff requires time rather than heat. Jenny Dean (Wild Colour, New York, 2010) suggests soaking the bark for days, even weeks to extract the first colour. She says never to boil bark since heat may release tannins and dull any resulting colour. From her book, I expect birch bark to yield colours ranging from purple to pinkish-red.
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birch bark, donated by my brother-in-law
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I am so grateful to my brother-in-law for allowing me to use the birch bark he has collected as he works on next winter’s stove-wood supply. I am sure he was saving it for a project of his own.
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strips of birch bark layered in the dyepot
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To start, I stripped the sheets of bark into narrow pieces and set it to soak in cool water in my big dye pot.
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strips of birch bark, set to soak in water
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I intend to leave it for a month before I take the next step of simmering the bark and dying my wool.
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requesting the favour of a reply
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these leafless trees
brush against
a linen sky
ink strokes
on rice paper
letters penned
at midnight
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hidden in the hollow
heart of an oak
afraid to reach in
to feel only
curls of birch bark
desiccated leaves
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these trees
all seem the same
empty envelopes
parchment ghosts
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branches tangled
messages
lost
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black spruce scribbled on sky
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Poem previously posted 19/08/2011
Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
harvesting colour – rose petals in a pickle jar – results
On April 9, I tried dyeing white silk with dried rose petals.
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rose petals, scattered on the silk
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Originally, I intended to let the colour develop for at least a month on the silk in my pickle jar. But curiosity got the better of me after six days. Colour had developed in the first two days, a deep magenta in the vinegar and on the fabric.
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Tonight I opened the jar and rinsed out the silk. The process is a little messy, with lots of petals floating in the rinse water. And the results …
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silk fabric dyed with dried flower petals … the deep pink is from the extra flowers I added
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You may remember that I folded a few other flowers into the silk. In retrospect, I should have seen the unnatural pink of some of the flowers … I think the florists did a little dyeing of their own and that is what is making the bright pink on the fabric. It looks a bit artificial for my taste, but I do love the brownish magenta that colours the background of the fabric – that colour seems to be from the rose petals. Silk certainly takes up colour eagerly!
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the magenta seems to be from the rose petals – a more natural colour
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Once the fabric is dry, I intend to hem the silk for a tablecloth. I use tablecloths all the time and this one will remind me of a special bouquet!
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Snippet of a longer poem I wrote after this adventure …
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remnants of the bouquet
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petal colour
stains fabric
eager to make
an impression
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deep pink dried flowers I added to the rose petal mix … I should have realised they were too bright to be ‘real’
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I have carefully rinsed my pickle jar, intending to use it again!
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
harvesting colour – more colour from the pickle jar
One more dyeing project with the pickle jar! I am growing impatient, waiting for the growing season to begin so I can collect plants for my dyeing projects. So, I looked around my house and decided to use some of the various jars of rose petals and other flowers I have dried over the years.
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a jar of rose petals and other flowers from a saved bouquet (the fabric is the silk I intend to dye)
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For fabric, I decided to use the square of silk I purchased for the project back in February. From my reading, I know that silk accepts dye very well and responds well to an acidic dye bath.
First I soaked the silk in tepid water to prepare the fibres to accept the dye. I decided this fabric has already been prepared with mordant. If not, I can always add the mordant later.
Then I spread the petals on the fabric, spraying as I went with a weak solution of cider vinegar.
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rose petals, scattered on the silk
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I added some other dried flower petals from another bouquet. Then I rolled the fabric and petals very tightly.
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a roll of silk and flower petals, sprayed with vinegar and ready for the pickle jar
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As with my last project ( https://nichepoetryandprose.wordpress.com/2014/04/02/harvesting-colour-onion-yellow/ ), I had trouble stuffing the roll into the jar. Once I had the silk crammed into the jar, I added more vinegar solution to the jar and closed it.
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pickle jar stuffed with silk, rose petals and other dried flowers
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And now we wait …
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
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