Felt Heirloom Roses

So...I am off the Peonies for a little bit and on to Heirloom Roses. I consider this little guy to be an heirloom rose, cause he is so open. Aren't those the roses we always remember as smelling the best and lasting the longest, even if they were not the most showy in the garden?

This 4 inch wet felted and hand beaded beauty with needle felted details would dress up any ensemble, from a simple black turtleneck, to a blushing pink evening gown. It also looks spectacular in a chignon, and that is why it is convertible from a hair fork mounting to a traditional corsage pin.

I love making these, and I made the flat felt for this over the summer, and had it sitting about for a while waiting for it tell me what it wanted to be. Last night it whispered to me...so I helped it along.

How I love my Newsday!

So tomorrow I am in Newsday again! Yippeee!!!

They are publishing their Handmade Shopping Guide, and I get a picture and a blurb.

The link to the web version is above....psssst I'm #5.

SWEET!!!!

Guess I am going to need to make more flowers this weekend!

Is that M' Lady's Slipper?

So not too very long ago my Hubby and I were out for a walk at a lovely arboretum in a protected wetland and what did we chance upon but a Lady Slipper Orchid. It was growing wild by the path and was just screaming (or rather politely requesting) that it have it's picture taken. Which of course I obliged. As we walked on, I was stunned by seeing several more. These flowers are an amazing example of co-evolution, as they have evolved to resemble and attract certain insects, fooling the more intrepid arthropods into clambering inside the inviting and rather, well, risque sexy bits of the flower in order to spread the flower's pollen. It works for the flower, and doesn't seem to bother the insects that much, since they go in over and over.

So I took this as a personal challenge to see if I could needle felt a lady slipper....I think I got the IDEA of a lady slipper down, even if it is not a perfect literal translation:

And as you might be able to tell from the scale of my finger there on the left, this felted flower is pretty tiny....

Birth of a Felted Flower

Making one of my felted flowers starts with the felt. Which involves bowls of water, a little soap, and lots and lots and lots of rubbing and rolling.

First I lay out the roving and blend the colors for the basic petals of the flower. Sometimes the felt will be thicker, sometimes it will be thinner. It all depends on the effect I am going for.

Then I wet it, sandwich it in crinkly plastic and bubble wrap and rub, rub, rub. You get very prune-like fingers doing this stuff. You then wet it and rub some more.

When the fibers start to come together, I will then start to roll the mat of fibers. I will roll it roll it roll it and roll it. Are we starting to see a theme? After rolling for a good long while (enough time to get some serious NPR listening in) I test it to see if it is felted. If I can pull up some fibers then it needs more rolling. After I am happy with the felting, it has to be fulled, which will really lock the fibers in place. This involves more rolling. Rolling. Rolling. And soapy water.

Finally, after a good hour or more of rubbing, rolling, wetting, checking, cursing, rolling, and rolling a bit more, I get a peice of fabric that won't fall apart, that I can then cut into pieces to sculpt into a flower.

This felt will be a flower inspired by a coverlet of my great-grandmother's that I inherited. It was full of these strange grey/blue/lavender rose-peony hybrids that existed no-where but on Grans' featherbed.