This post is a little different from our usual ones. While I talk about my dye work, I also talk about grief. The project I describe below expanded my skills as a natural dyer, and taught me how my creative work helps me process hard moments in life.  

I was invited by artists Jamae Tasker and Sarah Grimm to dye fabric for an Ocean Calling event. Ocean Calling is a beautiful installation, similar to a phone booth, that acts as a portal for speaking to lost loved ones through the wind and the waves. It is a sacred space for me. I visit it weekly, often calling my grandma and a close friend. It’s also a place where I bring Ruthie, our 5-year-old daughter. It’s a space for us to talk about death, grief, love and life. That is precious. We need more spaces within our culture that create this invitation. (Photo credit for the image below: Leda Bashi)

The idea for this project was to write the names of lost loved ones onto dyed strips of fabric. The fabric would hang around Ocean Calling during the remembrance event. I suggested we use ice plant (Carpobrotus edulis) and sourgrass (Oxalis pes-caprae), since they are located within a stone’s throw of Ocean Calling. Both are invasive spreaders that displace native species. Jamae and Sarah came to my house where we spent an afternoon dyeing. With the use of modifiers, we created a vibrant spectrum of earthy colors. 

This project challenged me to grow as a natural dyer. Normally, I dye about a third of a yard at a time, enough fabric to construct a couple of lampshades. With this project, I dyed over 10 yards of fabric. I had to rethink my whole process. Rather than the large stainless steel pots I normally use for projects, I used giant plastic storage bins to accommodate the quantity of fabric. This also meant that I could no longer use hot dye baths (I avoid hot temps with plastic). To compensate for this and ensure depth of color, I made concentrated dye baths in the pots, let them cool, added extra water and added them to the plastic bins. Since we wanted to make 6+ colors but had limited dyeing receptacles, my brain was constantly thinking through where to move this fabric and where to modify that fabric. I felt like my brain was playing Tetris. Thankfully, perfection was not a goal of the project, so I embraced the learnings of the process and the beauty of the imperfect outcomes. 

And on an emotional level, this experience was painful at times. I unexpectedly lost a close friend 5 years ago this April. I grieved as I worked on the many phases of natural dyeing: prepping the fabric, collecting the dye material, creating the dye bath, dyeing the fabric, modifying the fabric, finishing the fabric. I’ve cried more for him in the past month than I have in years. And while I grieved, I also remembered him, and felt a closeness because of this. I also connected with others because of the grief. I am grateful for all of the meaningful conversations (and hugs) that resulted from this process.

The remembrance event was beautiful. I connected with so many people over our losses. And it was powerful to see the fabric blowing in the wind, with the names of so many loved ones. The weather at the remembrance mirrored the grief process for me; there were so many ups and downs. There was sunshine, rain, love and hugs, heartache, laughter, and dancing. My heart is so grateful for Sarah and Jamae, and this beautiful space they created. And for inviting me to be a part of it.

Danielle