This kosode is made of linen that has been hand-dyed in madder, using a stitched-resist shibori technique to create hexagonal patterns in the fabric. From purchase of fabric to completion of garment took more than a year, though obviously I did not work on it constantly for all of that time.
Red Hexagon Shibori Kosode, from Linen
Back of the Red Hexagon Shibori Kosode
I started by purchasing some soft white linen from a merchant at Pennsic. This soft linen uses shorter fibers, which means it will not last as long, but I like the texture and have found that it works very well for shibori dyeing. I then cut all my pieces and serged the raw edges to create false selvedges and to keep the cut ends from fraying during the rest of the process. This was the easy part.
Then, I started adding my hexagonal resists. The process for this was to trace a pattern hexagon with chalk, then hand sew a running stitch around the chalk using about three times as much thread as needed. Once all of the pieces were stitched, the hexagonal stitches were then drawn up, and the ‘extra’ thread was wrapped around the small bundle of fabric this creates. I stitched, drew-up, and tied 103 separate hexagons. You can see in the above photos two places where the stitching broke or the binding came loose during the dyeing process. Such is life.
One Stitched Hexagon
103 Stitched Hexagons
103 Bound Hexagons
The next step was dyeing. My friend Rei kindly offered her assistance and the use of her dyeing studio full of equipment. I bought my own madder powder, and reimbursed her for the (considerable) cost of mordants and other chemicals. It took a full day in the studio (~10am to ~6pm) to prepare the dye baths (I used 4 pounds of madder powder for 2 pounds of fabric, plus a little alizarin to boost the red), stimulant bath, and mordant bath, soak the fabric in the baths, and undo all of the stitching so that the fabric could dry overnight. This process would not have been possible without Rei’s knowledge, amassed references, equipment, and time. Thanks Rei!
Dyed Fabric Drying on the Rack
Once dry, I laundered and ironed all the pieces, then sewed it into a kosode. It is large, and kind of heavy actually. After washing, the hexagons became even more defined, and the color gradations across the fabric from all the wrinkling and folding caused by the bound hexagons give it an interesting visual texture. I’m very happy how this all came out. Every bit of money and time I spent on this project has been worth it to me.
Sometimes I do woodworking demos at SCA events, and I have been wanting a less modern water source for sharpening than my plastic container. I was watching the animated film “Spirited Away” and I was like, “I need that bucket.”
I think that in Japan, this low and wide type of bucket was basically used as a basket. In the movie, she has it full of candy (konpeito, basically little bumpy sugar balls) that she’s feeding to the soot sprites. I’ve seen large ones in other movies used to transport cooked rice.
I bought about twelve feet of cedar 1by6 (sold as 4/4 S3S) and planed it down to 3/4″. Then I cut 10 6″ long bits for the staves and 2 15″ long pieces for the handle staves. I tilted the table saw blade to 15 degrees and beveled one edge, then spun each piece around to both bevel the other edge and narrow each piece down to 3+7/8″ wide (on the wider side). Switching the table saw over to a dado stack, I cut a 3/4″ wide by 3/8″ deep dado on the interior of each piece, to accept the floor of the bucket.
I used the band saw to shape the handle staves, then cut the through-mortises on the drill press and chiseled them square.
The floor of the bucket is cut from three pieces of cedar that I edge-glued together and then shaped using a circle jig on the band saw. I cut that as a 14″ circle, but I wish I had gone up at least a quarter inch more.
I dry fit all the pieces using blue tape, so I could figure out how long the handle needed to be. Once I had that length, I sketched out the curve of the handle and cut the shape on the band saw. A bit of sanding smoothed away the blade marks.
Since I already had the pieces taped up, I could apply plenty of glue, roll the bucket up around the floor (inserting the handle at the right moment), and clamp it together with elastic bands. I should have used ratchet strapspn as that would have let me get them really tight. Since I knew cleaning dry glue off the inside would be a pain, I washed the squeeze-out off the interior before it could cure. I left the whole thing to dry overnight.
The next morning I removed the elastic and tape. I scraped the squeeze-out off the exterior, then sanded the angled edges of the exterior to round it up a bit. I drilled some holes in the handle tenons so I could secure them with pegs. To finish up, I tied some palm rope around the bucket with constrictor knots.
Mizuoke from Cedar
It leaked almost as fast as the hose could fill it, so I guess it’s not the best bucket anybody ever made, but it looks good, and I learned some lessons that will help me when (if) I make another one.
Cut and shape the staves, then measure the dry fit to figure out how big the floor should be.
Cut the dado to be a tight fit for the floor.
Use ratchet clamps for a tight fit while the glue cures.
In Japan, they take pride that the joinery in their coopering (and boatmaking) is tight enough to be leakproof before it gets wet. The swelling makes it even tighter! I knew ahead of time that my joinery would not be up to Japanese level. Traditional buckets (and barrels) also have good quality hoops that keep the joinery tight as the wood swells. In Japan, making hoops by braiding strips of bamboo is a craft all on its own. I knew my rope hoops would be a little loose, and that I am not capable of metalworking at this level either, so glue it was.
I did not put any glue holding the bottom in place, because I knew that had to be free to swell. In my future tries to learn this craft, I will make the staves first, then measure to determine what size I need the floor to be. I’ll also leave the boards for the floor a little bit thicker, to match what is apparently a slightly over-width dado stack.
After a few days, I decided to seal the bottom of the bucket with clear finishing resin so that I could use it for its intended purpose. I sealed up the outside of the floor as best as I could with blue tape, then I poured in about 2 cups of mixed resin. I probably could have gotten away with only a cup of resin, since the hardened resin is pretty thick in the bucket now.
When it started to thicken, I brushed the resin up the sides of the bucket, sort of to make a plastic bucket inside. I knew the wood was porous, and I was hoping enough resign would soak in that the wood bucket and the plastic surface would be fully bonded together. One thing I did not take into account was that these pores are all full of air. Since the resin heats up as it cures, the air expanded and bubbled up through the resin. I did not get a perfectly clear layer of plastic in the bottom of the bucket, but it did seal everything up as hoped.
Cedar Bucket Sealed with Resin
It looks good overall though, and I am happy with it. Once you get some water in it, you can’t really tell the difference between bubbly resin and bubbly water. I have my bucket and it really does look like the inspiration. One commentator suggested that I make two more. The theory is that by the time I make the third one, I’ll have all the problems worked out and the third one will be perfect. That will have to wait for Spring, but I just might do it.
Way back in the mists of before-me time, Sharon‘s sister Megan (with Sharon’s mom’s help) made a grocery list holder as a gift for Sharon. It holds an old-fashioned roll of receipt paper (and a pencil) up on the wall so that you can quickly and easily jot down items for the next grocery trip. Sharon has used this holder for grocery lists ever since, and I dutifully started using it when I moved in with Sharon in the Spring of 1996. When you are ready to go grocery shopping, you pull down on the list until it is below the crossbar, then use the crossbar as a tearing guide to remove the list.
There is only one problem: we make two grocery trips a week because the two stores have different merchandise. Most weeks, Sharon goes to one store and I go to the other. Keeping two lists on one holder doesn’t work very well. If the “upper” list needs to be detached before the “lower” list, then the lower list winds up getting tucked into the crossbar and it is difficult to add things. Also, the detached list now has limited room. The solution was for someone (me) to make a second grocery list holder.
Two Grocery List Holders – Megan’s and Mine
I made mine from some of the pine board that I planed down to 5/8-inch for the Medium Japanese Tool Chest project. That’s why it looks a little smaller than the original. I did all of the cutting on the band saw, and smoothed all the saw marks by hand with a plane and some sandpaper. I used copper nails instead of iron nails, because I like the way that looks. Megan and Ivy used a rustic stain-only finish, which is fine and enables it to develop a patina. The pine on my list holder is finished with blonde shellac to seal it more completely for a brighter look.
Ivy says that she based the first one on a list holder that was on the wall of her parents’ house while she was growing up. When I sent a picture of these two to Megan, she said that she could really use one of these, so I will probably wind up making at least one more. Megan’s oldest offspring is now living in his own place, so he should probably have one as well. Maybe I should draw up some plans and write some instructions so that I don’t have to do all of these myself.
There’s a quote that I think about quite often from Jame’s Cameron’s Terminator 2: Judgement Day: “There’s no fate but what we make for ourselves.” If there are messages in Jason Pargin’s latest novel, I’m Starting to Worry About This Black Box of Doom, one of them is that there are no black boxes of doom but those we make for ourselves.
There’s a quote that I think about quite often from Christopher Nolan’s Inception: “An idea is like a virus, resilient, highly contagious. The smallest seed of an idea can grow. It can grow to define or destroy you.” If there are messages in Jason Pargin’s latest novel, I’m Starting to Worry About This Black Box of Doom, one of them is that the black boxes we make for ourselves can grow to define or destroy us.
The black box in the title of the novel is not the physical black box in the narrative of the novel. I’m not spoiling anything here, this is all explained quite early on in the novel. Applying that information to the philosophical black boxes in the rest of the novel is left as an exercise for the reader. If all that seems like a bit of a bait-and-switch con, keep in mind how much bait-and-switch happened with those two movies. The actor who played the main antagonist in the first movie plays the main white knight protector in the second? The eponymous inception is perpetrated not just on the target of the heist, not just on the instigator of the heist, but primarily on the perpetrator of the heist?
That said, Black Box is a bit of a bait-and-switch. When you find out the true meaning of the philosophical black box, and when you find out the true contents of the physical black box, your concepts of most of the main characters are switched and turned. This is not to relegate this novel to the trash heap of the “twist ending”. There is a twist beginning, a twist middle, a twist climax, and a twist denouement as well. One character who is cast as the only competent and experienced professional turns out to be kind of a nitwit. One character who is cast as a relentless machine turns out to be one of the most tragic and sympathetic characters in the whole story.
All the while, we are forced to contemplate how information is presented to us in this world, and how that affects the way we interpret it. A clandestine road-trip quickly becomes one of the most comically public endeavors on the planet. What the characters think they understand about each other becomes as unreliable as what we think we know about them.
This novel is not part of either of Jason Pargin’s two successful series. It is not a John, Dave, and Amy novel or a Zoey Ashe novel. It is good to see a writer branch out in new directions and work on things that are different. This is not a horror novel or a science fiction novel. These situations are all too real, these landscapes are too mundane, and these people are very real. Everybody makes mistakes and has regrets. There are no color-coded hats or billowing capes.
At times, mostly in the middle, this novel gets a little bogged down in conversations that are mostly exposition. At the end, most threads get tied up maybe a little too neatly. If those things are “flaws” in the novel, I’m not sure how Pargin could have fixed them. Maybe it’s not perfect, but it’s good. Very good. I continue to think that Jason Pargin is a novelist who started out strong and just keeps getting better. I recommend this book to all adult readers, and most YA. What I really don’t understand is why this author’s publisher hasn’t updated his promotional web site.
I’ve made a few nobori in the past, but usually for the Clan of which my household is a member group. This one is for the household of which I’ve been a member since 1996, the year it was founded: One Knight Inne.
Nobori no One Knight Inne
The full thing is 12 feet tall and 16 inches wide (19 inches wide with the tabs). It’s made entirely of rip-stop nylon (including the tabs). The tabs are made by stitching the nylon into a tube, then stitching 7″ lengths of the tube down to the banner. I made the badge by tracing the design onto white nylon, then stitching around the whole design using a 3mm satin stitch. Then, I trimmed the white nylon to the outside of the stitching, and the blue nylon to the inside of the stitching. It should be pretty durable. It should make quite a sight up next to all the Clan Yama Kaminari banners in camp.
I decided to try to make a sort of medium-sized Japanese tool chest, according to the more modern style. The main purpose of this experiment was to try to make a chest that used less lumber, that could then be sold for less money than the full-size tool chests.
Medium-sized Japanese Tool Chest in Pine
I started with two 6-foot 1-by-10s, and I have a little bit left over for other projects. I planed the 3/4-inch lumber down to 5/8″ to decrease the bulk, and I ripped all of the skinnier pieces from the wider lumber. that’s why the sides are the height they are; rip a 9.25″ 1-by-10 in half and after planing off the saw marks you wind up sides 4.5″ tall. Deeper tool chests, I have found, result in to o much layering of tools. That is, things get buried. The box is about 2-feet long, which makes the whole thing a nice size to fit in car trunks and the like. The cost in lumber and nails is about $40, and I’m thinking of selling these for $100. What do you think?
Managed to squeak this one in near the end of the year, but well within 2024. This year’s white kosode is made of some very nice linen that I bought at Pennsic from a vendor who specializes in fabric for historical reproduction. This linen is heavy, smooth, and luxurious. There are some changes in the pattern based on some more recent research that people in the SCA have done over the past few years. Most of the differences are in the overlaps and collar area.
White Kosode from Linen, 2024 edition
The learned can see the difference
Don’t worry, it’s looks better now that it has been laundered and ironed. I’m quite happy with the way this turned out. It does mean that I now have 14 white kosode. This is not only two full weeks worth of kosode, but the shelf where I keep my folded kosode is basically full. Most probably next year I will put one of my old cotton kosode into the garb swap to make room.
It has been five years since I restarted this blog, and roughly thirty years since I put my first pages up on the World Wide Web. Some of those original pages are still on this site, in essentially their same form. One of these decades I should get around to upgrading them from HTML 2 to whatever version of HTML we are using whenever that actually happens.
Thank you to all of my regular, irregular, occasional, and one-time readers. Mostly, I do this for my own benefit, so that I have some place to look up when I made certain projects or did specific things. It is always gratifying when I get email from somebody, especially somebody who finds my site through a search on some esoteric topic, even if it is just the board game Sorry!.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You have all made every one of the last 10,957 days worthwhile.
This is the latest novel by Chuck Palahniuk. It is a satire. The only reason this is not a non-fiction novel is because it is a satire. The truth is that everything this novel talks about basically does happen, just not in the absurd ways Palahniuk pretends it does for the purposes of this novel. Everything that “some shadowy but not actually secret at all group” is doing to young people in the novel is actually happening, just to different sets of young people than imagined in the novel, and in slightly different ways.
This book is a fast read. It is engaging and well written. It is confusing at times, but nobody reads Chuck Palahniuk expecting the narrative to go down like vanilla ice cream, right? Chuck Palahniuk is more like a double cone of rum raisin and rocky road, and the cone is cracked, and the day is hot and sunny; and there you are in the hot sun trying to ingest this mix of textures and flavors while constantly licking the outside of the whole thing to keep from getting any on your pants.
I do not think that Shock Induction will become one of my favorite Chuck Palahniuk books. Those are still Fight Club, Diary, and Rant. It’s pretty high up in the second tier, though. Holding it up against his other recent books, it’s tighter than The Invention of Sound, more palatable than Not Forever But for Now, and less terrifying than Adjustment Day. Maybe wait for this one in softcover if you’re not already the proud owner of a hardcover copy. I mean, it came out weeks ago.
This braid has been on the takadai for about six months. I have not been working on it constantly, of course, but still. It is a double-layer double-twill braid that used both the upper and lower arms, so it is essentially two braids stitched together at the edges. Even If I had been braiding at full speed, it still would have taken me twice as long as a single-layer braid, but I had so many other things to take care of and so many other braids to do.
The final braid is about a yard long and a little more than a half-inch wide. It’s all in silk lace-weight yarn and there are 52 (!) elements with 3 ends of yarn per element. There are plenty of errors in the braid. You can probably see a few in the photo. I’m still happy with it. It was a great learning experience.
