The thought process: I started thinking about creating “Into the Forest” some years ago when I created a miniature felted work. Into the Field captured my imagination and desire to offer an “experience” to the viewer. In this work I hope to invite you into the forest at Centralia (actually located on Thunder Bay Road) on the edge of Lake Erie between Ridgeway and Fort Erie. Fall offers the perfect time to experience a living forest. Aside from the forest itself, this pathway runs right through a natural beaver dam which can be seen once the foliage has died back for the winter.

Going through my resources recently, I pulled out work that I had woven many years ago and decided to repurpose rather than store. A handspun, dark brown woven piece with macrame textures seemed a likely candidate. I had in mind what I could do with the twisted macrame itself. All was disassembled, washed and dried outside while the summer lingered into early October.

Preparing the base: As I normally do, the foundation layer and composition is worked first with fleece/wool. I had recently bought new supplies from the Fibre Garden in Jordan Village, ready to go. I always card my fibres to enable a control over the way I lay them in. The term “attenuating” comes from my spinning vocabulary, which basically means “drawing out the fibres from the supply using your hands/fingers. The dark brown area which needed to become “sky” had to be covered to enable the illusion of blue sky. It took 3 layers of white, then the mixed and graduated blue mix with silk to create this portion of the work.

The first fibres are “tacked” down using the single felting needle, then worked in using a 5-in-one tool made by the Ashford spinning company. It’s a lethal tool that has to be used with utmost concentration and care; but was the one needed to penetrate not only the laid in fibres, and the cotton warp of the underlying weaving.

Now comes the fun part: My macramed cut-offs would serve nicely as trees and branches, but the colours were not exactly in keeping with the lighter bark of the maples and poplars. I prepared some dark and light grey fleece to wrap the cordage, trying a couple of methods before finding that attenuating the carded roving, wrapping and rolling by hand was almost sufficient to cause the fleece to cling. In some spots I used the felting needle for extra “hold.” (The final stage will be hand stitched to hold all fibres in place.)

Next the cordage would go to the sink where hot water and soap and more vigorous rolling between the palms help it cling even more – not 100% but that, I thought, would give the trunks and branches a more natural look and create shadows as well. They were very wet and the inner core was a sisal that soaked up water. I tried the salad spinner and it worked! Lots of excess water came away and they the cords were left out in the sun to dry – nothing like a hot early October when you need it. This session ended by roughly laying out where the trees would go.

Hand stitching all in place: Now a lot of needling to secure the trunks and branches, and to start adding background trees and undergrowth. Textures of the undergrowth and the dappled sunlight through branches is now a challenge. I’m working with images taken during the summer, but am envisioning a fall canopy of colour – very carefully muted – I don’t want a garish fall scene.

I am going back to the woodland walk from time to time to update my photographs. Colours are slowly turning. This has been a prolonged and dry fall with no real cold snaps overnight to turn the colours, as yet.

I am reading a fascinating book by German researcher Peter Wohlleben titled “The Power of Trees.” Did you know that yellow leaves are the result of chlorophyl being withdrawn by the plant to store for winter? Red colour is produced by the trees and pumped into the leaves. It’s not exactly known why, but one hypothesis is that the red acts as “camouflage” against insects that lay their eggs in the bark of trees, only to result in damage during the next season. Insects do not have receptors to see the colour red, which may cause the tree to become camouflaged and protected against these insects. Early brown leaf fall is either a result of stress from a dry summer and early fall or the abundance of sugar and no need to carry leaves into the late fall. Prolonged green foliage gives the tree more time to produce and store sugar for winter hibernation/dormancy.

Preparing the fall colours: This is a good time to prepare some felted swatches to use for the fall canopy. Wool is blended in the carding process and laid out on the sponge felting block. A blended silk layer is overlayed and lightly needle felted. From there is goes to the kitchen sink where the swatch is placed on a dish cloth. Boiling water and dish soap are combined then agitated in the rolled cloth. I am not trying to produce an even felt, but rather something that will be distressed through pulling and separating to give the appearance of foliage.

November 6: I have been busy working on the project adding foliage, adjusting and bringing the sensory aspects of the walk in the woods to life. It’s not until the work is viewed in a vertical orientation that it’s possible to get a real assessment of how it’s working.

Looking at the work critically I can see that the pathway is too narrow in the foreground. Leaves have been roughly placed to get a feel for their dynamic. Too much yellow and too much of the same size at the moment. I have also placed a temporary bough across the path at “head height” to see if it’s going to work. Perhaps? I’m thinking that this branch will be a more vibrant colour to set foreground apart from background.

Hours of stitching gives me time to reflect and think more about what the feltwork needs to bring components into the correct perspective and the deeper significance of the work. Peter Wohlleben’s “The Power of Trees” is truly an eye-opening revelation in its natural and political research, but so too is David Suzuki’s “Nature of Things” documentary on logging practices of Old Growth forests of the west coast (Canada). Forests have the remarkable power to help heal our climate crisis, and us as humans if we’d just give them a chance. Fall is the perfect time to embrace what we have of these living organisms. I have inserted a photo of the place that has inspired this work in progress.

November 14: During the last week I have been thinking more about the foreground and widening the pathway. As I’ve spent many hours stitching down the mid and background areas, I left the foreground so that I could pull out the fibres if I so decided. Out they came and were turned into more pathway to lead the eye into the image. I think however, that even more of the foreground could become pathway. The shadows on the pathway tend to give the illusion of “mounding” on the left now that I’ve added more shadow. I’m going to correct this visually.

My main branch feature was laid in and stitched down. Some branches and finer stems were added to hold the leaves. I had collected some small maple leaves from our own front lawn tree to press and use as “patterns.” A good idea, but in time the crispy points began to break away. I resorted to replicating with study paper before they were completely broken. Looking at photographs that I had previously taken of red, fall maples, I see that the brighter colours recess to pink-orange and yellow into the background. Diminishing size will also create this illusion of perspective. What I don’t want however, is a pattern-like effect. Some leaves will be overlaid and even partial forms will be used. I’ll also distress and roll the edges to give a more natural effect.

Last images taken today that will give me more guidance in my fine tuning. I think I will pull the pathway even wider in the foreground and help “level” the shadows so as not to give the illusion of the steeped left edge. Some of the very close leaves on the path will be larger and more obvious in shape as well. I have lots of prefelt swatches to work with.

Fine leaf stems have yet to be added, then all needs to be stitched down on this branch, as well as the foreground area. Once the image is fairly complete, I will begin work on the backing. There will be an interfacing to correct and pull the work into a right-angled shape and give consistency to the vertical and horizontal dimensions. The final backing comes once all is complete.

Work is now completed and sold.

My newest work is an impression of this wonderful spot in Central Vancouver Island where it will make its home. The photograph was taken from the customer’s kayak while on Sproat Lake heading towards the division between these two bodies of land.

I was comissioned to dry needle felt this scene and mount on Lake Erie beach. My boards were collected from a couple of beaches along the Erie shores between Ridgeway and Fort Erie. Removing all screws, sanding over rough splintery wood and cleaning off sand was the first step in preparation. I will also go over the boards with a non visable sealant to preserve the wood – just waiting for some nicer weather! The close-ups of the drawing shows the land features and their natural division. To enable the photograph to fit the 71 x 11 horizontal profile, I have had to stretch the image slightly to fit. The completed work will not significantly show these changes.

Excited now to begin the actual felting, I have cut a piece of fine quilt backing to fit the 71 x 11 measurement. For my first compositional layer, I use wool in the most basic of colours. This layer will be covered, but is essential in that it provides a grounding upon which the silk and blends can “grab” into a ground (microscopically, wool has tiny curled barbs onto which smooth silk and plant fibres can attach). The end result is an ahesion of all layers as one felted fabric. I am using a single, spiral cut felting needle which will take the fibre on the top and push it through the base. Small ends are left free at the back, while the front of the work becomes denser the more the needle is used.

Here is a short video of the process: https://1drv.ms/v/c/dbd4f2deee7d36d5/IQCTUJgJi7h8RZ-X5b3HJBnbASkImIQa-JU1HLPP_Q7zbwk?e=6H960r

This composition has 3 basic areas: foreground water, mid-ground land formations (as many as 7 on the left hand side) and sky which we could call the background. I have divided the composition into 4 horizontal areas to enable the stretching of the image to remain true to the original photograph.

From here more of the silk and viscose fibres are used to provide sheen to the work. My usual method is to work on the sky area first, midground, then foreground. This order enables the fibres to layer themselved front over back in a more natural placement. I have many shades of blue and green in my “palette”; however, blending these enables an even wider range of secondary and tertiary colours which gives my landscapes a natural and diverse palette. Still, this is only the beginning. I will complete the first of the secondary layer, then build more detail and colour from there.

As I move foreward in my observation, I begin to see more and more detail in the landscapes typography: hills and valleys, snow, bare rock, various trees, not to mention the cloud formation and shadows and light reflection on the water. My client was concerned that there might not be enough interest in this landscape; however, I have made provision for that should this be the case.

Looking at on-line photographs of Sproat Lake, there is a foreground peninsula covered in tree growth, which juts out from the right. The original photograph has a canoe bow in the centre of the photograph – bright orange. The shadow on the water to the left would then provide a balance to the other 2 features. But, let’s see first if what I have in front of me is enough to complete this compostion.

From this point I will be adding emphasis to the cloud formations and highlights to the water. I’ll also revisit the landscape to pick up on the light where it might be enhanced or taken back into the distance. I will also need to get my stepladder out to photograph from a height as my arms don’t reach high enough to cover the entire 71-inch span!

Detailing is a step that I enjoy and which I liken to the editing process in writing – it’s the fine tuning that makes things come to life. Below is a page from Wind, Weather and Waves: A guide to marine weather in the Great Lakes. Although not exactly true to oceanic cloud formations, this guide has been invaluable when identifying clould formations. To the best of my matching abilities, the clouds over Sproat Lake in B.C. are cumulus (small, puffy white clouds). There could also be a cirrocumulus (patchy) pattern to them when looking at the original photograph.

After several weeks on this project, the exciting moment has arrived when the work is ready to pull away from the foam working cushion. A backing layer of thin cotton, quilt batting is pinned then will be stitched to the back to add firmess and to pull the work back into a rectangular shape.

Another week plus is now spent stitching all in place while at the same time adding dimension to the work. Details such as the beach showing as a definite white line in the fore of the tree-line. Fine tuning of light and shadow can still take place during this process. I don’t usually stitch into the cloud formations, but in this work, I am planning to do that to both anchor and add uniformity to the whole work. After photographing for my customers, I have decided that the work will definitely need a second layer added to the back to align and square up the whole, especially with the long horizonal water line.

Meantime, I have been working on the support boards in preparation for mounting the work. There have been a few challenges using reclaimed beach wood, but all will be ready to go.

Below is the final work: 3 detailed images and one of the full work mounted. The two boards are braced together and hardware is doubled up for extra strength. It’s ready for its new home!

With a little “inbetween” time, I wanted to work on a more creative felting, using a favourite image of wildflowers in late summer, growing at the Northern farmland end of Point Abino Road. Comprising mostly bull thistles and cowthistles, and a little dogwood, the colours and textures have always enspired me. I also wanted to incorporate the remaining handspun and knitted shawl that I had cut and used a few years ago. The photo above shows the “halfway” point when fibres are laid in and felted, but nothing has been stabilized with stitching. This last part of the process also blends and integrates the work together.

So, very quickly, here’s a run through the process:

Above are images showing the laying in of the wool fibres that provide not only the overall composition, but also a grounding for the top layer that will comprise various silk and plant fibres. When laying in the ground layer, I observe the “gesture” of the subject and aim to place the fibres in the direction and movement that will best give a feeling of movement and “gesture.” For example: the sky area is basically horizontal but cloud formations laid on top later on might have diagonal and swirling motions. In contrast, the distant tree line has short vertical movement, as does the foreground growth.

Technically, I use a single spiral felting needle (small barbs cut in a spiral fashion that push the fibre through the first layer of felted backing). The fibre ends remain at the back of this ground layer while the top loops remain on the top where they can be seen. The more fibres that are pushed through, the denser and thicker this top felted layer becomes. I will later use a 5-in-one needle device that achieves this finish a lot quicker and better.

The images above show the development of the work: First I have laid in many shorter 2ply strands taken from the shawls fringe (that was the fashion back in the 1970s when I made the shawl) and used them as mid-ground grasses on top of the lighter layer. Handspun yarns of diameter, textures and colours are used for the stems. Little “clumps” of fibres are used for the thistle heads and various flowers. Silk noils make excellent Queen Anne’s lace flowers. Viscose works well for the foreground thistle fibres. Pre-felted samplers cut and used for leaves. Remember, all will be stitched down so that the whole work is stable and no components will come loose.

January 1 is my time-line for started a New Year project. This scene, photographed at Shagbark Nature Park in early winter, 2025, was my new year’s choice.

The perspective, distant treeline of both deciduous and evergreen species, mid-ground of grasses and the foreground bull thistles amidst mounds of shorter weedy grasses (where the park’s deer create walking trails, build their sleeping nests during the warm and dry summer months, and no doubt flolick about) presented a place where the viewer might envision an experience of their own.

For the first compositional layer I have used wool: blocking in the darker compositional area, provided the shading for this mid-ground area. I was eager to use a new bag of flax and wool mix to detail the grasses in this area. The snow foreground would be created from various layers of white fibre including wool, viscose and cultivated silk – each with its own colour and texture. Eventually I hoped it would have a relief structure (in reality, the snow is covering scrubby thickets of grass).

The distant trees were made from handspun 2-ply yarns from my supply. In this area of Ridgeway, a lot of light barked poplar has been seeded for quick ground cover especially at the perimenter of the larger woodland stands that take the walker onto the ridge. The white pine evergreens were certainly planted by humans. “Friends of Shagbark”, a voluntary group of forest and meadow-land caregivers, were responsible for the planting of the initial meadow, designed to attact birds, bats and insects. Bird and bat houses in the park have been responsible for their breeding. Bluebirds and endangered chimney swifts are among the 64 species of birds that can be found in the park.

From this point the image now demands more softening and blending, creating a way to “walk” into the scence. More layers have been added to the pines to create the thicker, scruffy look of these naturalized trees. The deciduous trees are likely maples or oak, native species to the Carolinean forest of which this area comprises.

The grasses have been extended to soften their tops and blend more naturally into the background. I will also add a layer of silk blend to soften the look of the grasses themselves and create and parting to invite the viewer deep into the scene. Foreground Bull thistles have a wonderful gesture about them – almost dance-like with their arms held high as they pirouette upon a single leg.

The last phase of the work will involve about 2 weeks of stitching to detail, anchor and texturize the work. It will be mounted once completed. I haven’t quite decided if it should be quilt finished or mounted onto a stretcher frame. The finished vertical work measures 43.5 x 33.5 inches.