Winter is coming to an end soon which is both good and bad. I’ve recently became a winter enthusiast, formally an autumn aficionado, as I’ve come to appreciate winter’s solitude as the crack and pop of the wood in the fireplace warms the heart and soul during a peaceful snowfall on a quiet winter’s night. But as the thawing days of March are about to give relief to cabin fever (the wood pile is dwindling fast), it’s time for a fresh new start – not to mention the end of the six-foot high snow pile at the end of my driveway.
I was looking forward to this past weekend’s snow storm because I’m not yet finished with my snow dye kick. This might appear as if I have a snow fetish, but there is only so much usable snow for my dye batches. I’ve been feeling a bit greedy, or is it childish delight for my want, no, pure desire of fresh, clean snow to fall so I can begin a new snow dye for my fabric art. I never thought snow would be such a highly demanded commodity for my stash of art supplies.
The snow with the renegade autumn leaves, accumulated dusting of dirt and grime, and of course the road salt tainted snow all wreaks havoc on my dye batch expectations. After the dyed snow has melted on my fabric, I rather see the highly sought after unusual color striations and ethereal patterns dancing on the fabric canvas and not the funky, nasty looking dirt that accumulates on the snow banks of city streets.
I love Minnesota winters as it’s an opportunity to relax, metaphorically speaking of course as the snow shoveling muscles ache after every storm, and get ready for the busy spring when the garden dirt once again begins to breathe (I’m planning a huge bed of pink petunias to honor the color of the year: honeysuckle… but this will be another post). But if I can just squeeze in one, maybe two more snow dyes before the crocuses begin to bloom, I’d be a happy artist and I can then work on these fabrics until the next wonderful snowfall months away.
