Making brushes
I feel these handmade brushes are not afraid of getting messy, and not afraid of their wild side in making marks…
It started with seeing a post on Instagram from Fibre Arts Take Two. They profiled fiber artist Lorna Crane in her studio holding a handmade brush with long long threads. She dipped it in ink, lifted it up high, then with gentle careful movements, proceeded to let these long strands of saturated threads in ink make marks on the page.
I let out an gasp and aaaaaahhhh! and I knew I had to make my own brushes. Something shook inside me, awakened with excitement. I imagined the sensation of dipping the handmade brushes in ink, saturating fabric and thread, letting the excess drip off, then starting at the top of a page and working down. I could already feel the handmade brush in my hand, letting mood, inner rhythm, movement, and materials show me what marks they want to make. But first, make the brushes!
Scraps of handwoven Lao fabric, a coil of rough spun natural Lao thread, a spool of indigo-dyed Lao thread, and sticks from my nature collection were what I wanted to use. I believe all the sticks are from a hike last year in Maryland – some are decorated with peeling bark, some tattooed with insect marks, and others weather worn to a smooth texture.
Many years ago (okay, a few decades ago) I first tried to make my own brushes. Inspired by Japanese brushes and how they’re constructed, I made four using wood, canvas cloth, embroidery thread, and natural found “bristles,” and a binder adhesive.
I never used them. I never made marks with them. It’s as if they were too delicate, too afraid, meant for decoration and they were done. I don’t know what their marks would look like, as their voices and expression just stopped the moment they were made. They sit on a shelf now, and have always sat on shelves over the decades. I wonder if I woke them up and see if there is any expression in them at all?
As is often the case with my creative process, I don’t really plan. I just start. I’d never made brushes quite like this before, with these materials, and without a binder adhesive, so I didn’t know if they would hold or hold up, but I wasn’t too bothered by that. I’m familiar with using unusual objects to make marks – sticks, stones, leaves, straw, shells, pine cones – and I’m always surprised at how well they do hold up.
This time, over the course of two studio days I made the handmade brushes. First one, then another, then the next, stopping at five when I felt I had enough of a range. Each one came into being almost effortlessly, like it was meant to be exactly that, and nothing else. Were they as excited as me to see what marks they were going to make?
Here’s how each one came into being:
Brush #1 – Strips of handwoven natural cotton PhuTai fabric
What I like most about this first one is that it looks like a flower to me, the six strips of fabric reaching up, the 'petals' floppy and fraying, held at the nape by a wrap of handspun thread. Can I imagine what marks it will make? Somewhat. I'll dip it in blue food coloring that is color of indigo (thank you for the color suggestion and food coloring, Sush!), and I see wide lines in a cluster, splotches when the strips stick together, and erratic strokes when the color is no longer saturating the fabric.
Brush #2 — Medium lengths of handspun natural cotton Tai Lue thread
The rough spun natural thread is full of debris in the cotton, which I don’t mind for the brushes. I cut medium lengths of the thread and took a few strands each and tied them to a longer thread, somewhat like book signatures to secure them better. Then I wrapped them on the stick until a poofy, fluffy bunch appeared. It looks playful. It’s also going to get dipped in blue food coloring and I really wonder what marks it will make.
Brush #3 — Strips of gray and black PhuTai fabric
The process is very similar to #1, but with more fabric strips, and they’re longer. One of the things I like most about this one is that that fabric is fraying. The warp is of fine black commercial thread (used when making a stronger fabric and tighter weave), while the weft is the natural gray-dyed thread. It shows just how fragile things really are, even if they are made for strength and for holding tight.
Brush #4 — Long lengths of handspun natural cotton Tai Lue thread
The one most like the one I saw fiber artist Lorna Crane use, or at least my interpretation of it using my own materials. It feels gangly, lacking a center, and has its own unique way of movement that I'm not used to. This one has the most mystery and unknown. We may get along great. We may not. I may try to control when I know I cannot. She’s in control and I just have to feel my way to knowing what marks she wants to make, not me.
Brush #5 — Thin strips of handwoven indigo hemp Hmong fabric
Hemp frays easily. And cut in thin strips, the indigo fibers of hemp shed wildly. Several times when I was making this brush, I had to gather the dusty fibers in a pile. I shook the finished brush and again the tiny fibers fell to the table. I gathered them up. It looks like, and reminds me of, a reverse broom. Instead of sweeping up dust and dirt, it creates it!
Each one feels so differently in my hand, feels different from each other, and feels like all they want to do is make marks now. They’re not decoration. They’re not done. They’re not afraid. They’re not afraid of getting messy, or falling apart, or having whatever kind of experience.
Maybe I’m ready and not afraid, too.
“Making fabric brushes” was originally published as an exclusive post to my Patreon supporters in May 2021. Now it’s public and available to you, too!
And I’m excited to announce that since December 2022, I’ve switched to Ko-fi!
Ko-fi is also an online creator platform and makes it easy for fans to financially support creatives with either a one-time donation or signing up for a monthly subscription. It is where I share early access and exclusive content of my creative process, original stories, and inspiration. My work explores fiber arts, nature gathering, mark making, photography, and writing.
Want to join me and other supporters on a journey? By joining one of my monthly membership tiers, I get to show my appreciation to you by offering benefits! Depending on the tier, the benefits I offer are behind the scenes, works in progress, personal stories, early access, exclusive content, and mailed packages of my art, experiments, and/or Lao materials.
Want to offer a little support because you like what you see or read? I’m humbly grateful for your one-time donation!
A big shout out to my wonderful supporters! Thank you, each of you, for supporting my ongoing creative work – Julie B, Sharmila K, Sushmita M, Kori J, Marga F, Kara B, Kristina L, Laura C, Louise B, Beck C, Skip M, Chris Z, and Richie M. It means so much and I am grateful. I think of you as create these posts, what I write about and share, and I hope that it offers you insight and inspiration along the way.
