batiking epitome of incomprehensibility A couple of accidental_epiphanies, surface-level (so to speak) and oddly_specific: about colour mixing in batik art. At first, I'm dissatisfied by the range of colours in Aunt Sarah's fabric dyes. For instance, I want a reasonably intense, neutral yellow. Three jars of yellow dye face me in their neat but stained arrangement. I've used them all. There's a pale one - too pale. A "bright yellow" - slightly too green. A "gold" - too orange. But when I paint a stripe of "gold" next to one of "bright yellow," these two commingle into exactly the yellow I was looking for. ... Second, and related, the type and texture of fabric affects what colour you get. This can even vary *within* the same material! I knew from before that hemp cloth would give earthier colours; silk, paler and more shimmery ones. But yesterday, I accidentally used a different cotton swath than before for my new set of cards, and its thin texture but slightly coarser threads are perfect for dreamy but not-too-pale pastels. ...Cotton from an old sheet, it seems like, based on the fabric's borders. Aunt Sarah didn't mind my mistake. Even though she HAD already cut some pieces to fit the large wooden frame in the studio, the material was inexpensive or maybe free (depends where it came from). She let me try batik on silk once, when I was younger. I made and framed a square abstract piece with flecks of light emanating from a centre. Its beauty (I found it beautiful) arose more from chance than skill, but I *will* take a little credit for the yellow and purple combo. And silk is so shimmery! But that was ONCE. I don't think I could take any silk again unless I had the money to reimburse her. Volunteering in the shop balances using material, but not her more expensive material. (Why am I so conscious of cost right now? Yes, I'm in a relatively money-poor phase of my existence, but it's not like I'm starving. If only I had more to give to people who *are* actually hungry, though.) Anyway, about the cotton that likes pastel shades. My thinner strip of this fabric is in the process of being made into small cards, maybe for children. In childlike colours, there's a "happy birthday," a dog pawprint, etc. Pink and purple and pale yellow (here, the paler shade works). A blend of peachy-orange. Bits of cerulean. 250712 ... ovenbird I've never done any batiking but found this exploration of your process fascinating. When I started painting again about seven years ago I was astounded to discover that you can mix your own blacks and that black can have so many different qualities depending on the colours you mix together. In the world of watercolour I'm a fan of a mix of Indigo and burnt sienna. 250713 ... e_o_i Watercolour is fascinating! Last year, I was at a meeting of the artists' association where someone did a watercolour demo, putting dabs of three colours on a large piece of card paper and tilting it different ways. Then she formed these abstract blurs of colour into a landscape with trees and a river. The process of adding dye to batik can be a little bit like watercolour. One of the techniques I tried this time was letting colours run into each other, but they don't usually make the same meandering lines watercolour can. Another kind of colour mixing involves layering - putting one colour on top of another after the first one dries. So a cerulean blue on top of an orangey-yellow becomes a hazel green, etc. I couldn't mix the dyes in the pots (like taking a bit of the bright yellow and stirring it into the gold yellow), since they were my aunt's dyes. But this introduced an interesting constraint: I had to rely on either blending or layering, as above. Black. Hm. Mixing emerald green and reddish brown, then dipping it into the dark purple dye for the last step, got me a pretty solid black. But I think without the brown it might have still looked purple, very dark purple, like blackberries. 250717 ... e_o_i ...I mean, I layered reddish-brown on top of green, then in the last step dipped the fabric into a large pot of dark purple dye. That last step is also how you get the tie-dye-like effect: crinkle the parts of your piece that are waxed, and the dark dye will seep into the crevices. I let it soak for about a minute, then pull it out with rubber-gloved hands and let it drip excess dye into the pot before toweling the rest off. But I should say that's only the second-last step, because the last step is ironing it to melt the extra wax and even it out. And if you want to make the fabric easily bendable again, e.g. for clothes instead of cards or wall hangings or framed pieces, you can treat it with chemicals to soak out the wax. 250717 ... ovenbird I should amend my above statement to say that I haven't done any batiking with cloth. I have made Ukrainian easter eggs (which I wrote about on "pysanky") and this involves a similar process of applying wax and dye and then removing the wax at the end. There's something so soothing about working with hot wax. I love the beeswax smell. 250718 what's it to you? who go blather from