this winter i discovered the usefulness of abandoned cocoons liberally scattered all over the cedar siding and cut firewood stacks of this place. the tussock moth cocoons are small, dirty and in many states of disrepair, as far as fiber production is concerned.
the resulting yarn has been very interesting, not varying a huge amount despite the different preparation steps i’ve used.
i’ve had my eye on the woods, hoping i might find another giant silk moth cocoon like i did years ago when i was teaching a combined grades 5 & 6 class of kids with emotional disabilities. always knowing how ridiculously impossible that would be. yesterday i found one. it was a thing i’ve been looking at all winter on my walks, a leaf clump, revealed itself as a cocoon. a cecropia. 5 feet off the road a cecropia cocoon, spun up in a black cherry sapling. if my knees could still run i would have run (to where? i don’t know!) to tell the news, instead i told nell and she was suitably excited, as she is anytime outdoors. (also, she said, where’s supper?)
i thought i would do what i did last time, cut the branch, bring it inside, place it in a window and wait. the day it emerged in room 400 i was reading to my kids, and my assistants started dancing, pointing to the windowsill, where that strange tomb was wiggling, wiggling i tell you. eventually a giant silk moth appeared. that changed the whole day into what teachers call a teachable moment (meaning NOT in the lesson plan), and they insisted i return that beautiful moth to where i found it. which i did.
so all around is fear and denial and uncertainly. i am here, struggling to make things, fulfill commitments, and to direct my students through the last month of class, remotely. one of the ten hasn’t been in touch, which worries me, but the others have all touched base. they are making a zine a week (participating in michelle moode’s challenge) and are in touch.
dear aimee has a new how-to book about jeseung, which you should order. and sarah swett continues to make kami-ito into shifu tapestries. two of many who are making paper as textile sing.