Gazing out of my studio window is one of the pleasures of this workspace. For many years I've marvelled at how the seasons affect this same view - the changes in colour and atmosphere. My future studio space may not have such a luxury unfortunately... there might be no view of nature at all, what a depressing thought. The snow here was from earlier in February. 
While working out my carbon footprint earlier this month I also mentioned my annual water consumption, and started pondering the carbon cost of water. I emailed South West Water, the water company for Cornwall and Devon, and fairly soon after received a reply from their Carbon Manager David Rose (impressive they have a dedicated Carbon Manager but apparently many similar companies do now).
Clean water delivered: 173 grams CO2e per cubic metre of water delivered to your tap.
Waste water returned: 870 grams CO2e per cubic metre of waste water returned to sewer.
(CO2e = carbon dioxide equivalent)
This equates to 1043 grams CO2e per 1000 litres for combined clean and waste water supply - I have to admit to surprise for the low delivery figure for fresh water. But then, water arrives freely from the skies. It doesn't (here anyway) need to be pumped up from the ground.
If there is a message to be read from these figures it's that the less 'contaminants' we put into the waste/sewer the lower their clean-up costs, and this might help lower emissions. David explained that the waste figure includes methane and nitrous oxide emissions from the recycling of waste water sludge to land. Or muck spreading as I've always known it.
My household carbon contribution from water use then is:
34,527 litres
= 34.527 cubic metres x 1043 grams
= 36011.661 grams CO2e
= 36 kg CO2e pa
Thirty-six kilograms, or 0.036 tonnes, sounds not very much in comparison to other emission costs, such as heating water or travel. So it seems best to retain focus on reducing quantity of water due to its eminent predicted global shortage.
So, over the next year I should aim to reduce consumption, and consider what gets disposed down the mains that needn't and other options for disposing of it (or do away with it altogether?).
Emission levels from all UK water companies are shown in Figure 4 on page 12 in Water UK's Sustainability Indicators 2007-08 Report.
United Utilities have a user friendly (figure-phobic) water use/carbon calculator here but be aware the final figure includes not just the carbon cost of water supplied/taken away but the carbon cost of heating it.
Update 14 February 2009
South West Water have announced plans to trial a rising block tariff. There will be three blocks, the first low rate 'essential use', the second standard rate 'safety net' and third premium 'non-essential use', with the first block charged at 27% less than the standard rate.
For a one person household the essential band is 1-8 cubic metres/quarter, the standard 9-13, and premium 14 and over. So I'm thrilled to see that my existing quarterly use only just flips over the essential use level!
...in an interim stage of wax removal in the Feeding the Ducks batik:
Ten litres of cold water in the Burco took 23 minutes to reach boiling stage, and the (metre square) batik was submerged for a further 22 minutes with the power intermittently on. The total 45 minutes 'boiling out wax' activity used 1.4 kwh of electricity. Translating to 0.6 kg CO2.
Starting with warm or even room temperature water would have saved a little energy, but more would have been saved if the batik hadn't needed to boil for so long. Sometimes a few minutes dip is enough to melt and remove wax but other times the wax leaves a yellowish residue that takes longer to shift. It's often only visible when the batik is wet but can affect subsequent dyeings, such as had had happened with this last dyeing.
Experience suggests this happens when wax has been 'well cooked', turning brown, and where used has lost some ability to repel water/dye. In turn, being well cooked could mean the wax is being heated too high, ie where it touches the hottest part of the bowl it's getting hotter than ideal. But if I have the pot at lower temperature then the wax isn't hot enough for fast canting work. 
I removed the 'old' wax, cleaned the pot and replenished it with new wax to the same recipe (100 g batik mix, 20 g white beeswax). This time I used half quantity, ie half filling the pot and heating at setting '5'. Always before I've filled the pot to ensure a consistently heated supply of wax, but my thinking now is that if there is less wax to start with then the pot needn't be set so high to get the ideal wax temperature. The wax is both less likely to be 'cooked' on the hot part and - importantly - used up by the time replenishment is needed!
I am truly shocked to find that of the 240 g of wax heated last time round, 145 g was removed too 'well-cooked', meaning only 95 g was used for the batik. I have been very very wasteful of resources and am determined to get this amended.
Another thought I had for saving energy with boiling out wax is to insulate the Burco boiler. Followed by hesitation from the likelihood of getting the insulation both very wet and coated by molten wax spluttering over the Burco top. And from remembering the hint from Paul Mobbs that beyond a certain depth (0.2m) loft insulation becomes carbon-uneffective (production etc cost outweighing savings). But, in my loft some old futon cotton-wool sheets are stored some of which might be adapted for this purpose. 
This Ducks batik has already required three or four interim boilings out, and will need two or three more before the end. I don't usually work like this, believing it goes against the nature of batik if you can't go forward with the design in one go, with only one boiling out at the end. Somehow this design got too complex. I will be glad when it's finished!
images: top - over-cooked wax; middle - new wax pellets half filling wax pot; bottom - interim stage - Feeding the Ducks batik
The Beeb's online news states that a Brit's annual carbon emissions are 2.67 tonnes (US 5.6, China 1.1, India 0.3, Kenya 0.1). My latest electric stats showed 2.8 tonnes for the year - how could this be? How could I be using more than the average person just on electricity alone? How had I not sussed this before? Further research makes the difference between carbon emissions and carbon dioxide emissions apparent...
Average UK emissions of CO2 were between 9.1 and 9.5 tonnes annually in 2005 (see here and here, both quoting from same source), which translates to 2.6 tonnes carbon annually per person. I was relieved not to be worse than average, but not for long... Monbiot's article reminded me that the goal is reducing to about a tonne of CO2 equivalent pa. There's a long way to go.
My electric usage seems to have stabilised at 2.7 to 2.8 tonnes CO2 annually (to work out yours multiply your total kwh by 0.43 for kgCO2, then divide by 1000 for tonnes CO2. Or see Carbon Trust for more info). There's not much more switching off of unused or unnecessary appliances and lights, or other chipping away I can do. It's time for substantial changes... and investment.
A joiner has advised that all my single glaze windows can be converted to double glaze - they are well-made wooden windows, only 14 or so years old and in good condition. I'm just waiting for the quote now. The past two years I'd put up temporary double glazing film, like polythene taped to the frame, and they made such a difference to heat retention that double glazing is a must. Can't think why I've delayed so long (other than house selling intentions). The studio has had lined curtains as well as blinds for the past two years, and a thermal-backed blind arrived yesterday for the (double glazed) skylight. Before the winter I want to get lined curtains up in every room.
But still all this won't be enough. Especially if Peak Gas is on the horizon, never mind Peak Oil. Paul Mobbs, whose talk on Energy Beyond Oil I went to last week, suggested 58% of domestic energy consumption goes on space heating, with water heating at 24%, lighting and appliances at 12% and cooking at 6%. My house is all electric, heating is from storage heaters (two modern, one old) with a blow-heater in the bathroom and for back-up. As I work at home they seem practical, place is nice and warm for starting work in the morning. But I have two lovely open fireplaces (sitting room and kitchen), desolate without woodburner or (wood-fired) rayburn. Apparently woodburners make storage heaters less effective - as one starts cooling down at night, the other is gauging how much work to do to get and keep the place warm - and can't help but get it wrong. Can only be one or the other. But I'm going to investigate this further... if power rationing kicks in in a few years time it's good to have an alternative ready! And I like the idea of (slow) cooking or keeping the kettle warm on top. There's also an innate good feeling from seeing/hearing flames.
Solar hot water is another option to investigate. But the shower does its own heating (very practical this time of year when luke warm is all that's needed - a luxurious 15 minute shower uses less than a unit), and there are no radiators to fill. It would be good for boiling out wax of course, but other than washing and washing up there aren't many other needs for hot water. Cooking? Coffee?
Think I'll concentrate on curtain lining and double glazing this year, and (unless I've moved) come back to technological matters next year.
I was getting so despondent - why was I waxing only wobbly lines not smooth ones like I used to. I even bought Green&Black chocolate yesterday to see if that helped. I cleaned the canting (boiling all of them in water and poking the spouts with wire) and changed the wax (I wasn't sure how old or how cooked the previous lot was, but could tell from the colour and depth in the bowl it wasn't that new). I wondered if my worktop had originally been made for me working in shoes (I'm usually barefoot in the studio) and so tried with my flipflops on, half or an inch taller.
I tried changing position. I tried changing tool. I varied working from left to right (over the curve) and up and over to down and under. I tried every variable I could think of.
Suddenly I got it. Suddenly it was happening, suddenly smooth curves and smooth lines and I could follow the pencil lines easily. Oh joy! I was so happy and felt like celebrating! And I have no idea what I did, just that it all came together.
So... I had to go-for-it and do those not-at-all-scary-now spirals for the birds batik (see yesterday's post). I did them straightaway, and they are fine! A doddle!
Such a relief! I thought I'd need to practice for days to get that knack back!
Yee ha! Big smile! Chocolate time!
Two pictures of woad dyed samples from the workshop at Woad Inc last April. Following dyeing they were rinsed umpteen times in water with Ecover, with a final rinse in vinegar (as advised for indigo by Vivien Prideaux). The vinegar rinse seems to stop further dye washing off, somewhat magically to a non-chemist! They haven't yet been boiled to remove wax but being rinsed in hot as well as cold water most has already gone. When I have enough to justify boiling up the burco then they'll get boiled out.
Woad Inc's vat was already made. Alkalinity was raised to pH9 with soda crystals and Hydros added to remove oxygen. The vat was steaming away, at 55 deg C. I was concerned it was too warm and would make the wax melt. Some dye was taken out and cooled to 35 deg C in its new bowl. This was used for dyeing the four prima, in a series of dippings, as shown in the first picture.
This cotton had no initial scour: the samples went straight in the vat (after soaking in water). Each group dip lasted approximately a minute, then the samples hung to air for up to another minute. So the lightest piece had only one approx-minute dip, and the next darkest two dips etc, up to four. There seems little difference between third and fourth dips - I am putting this down to my bad approximate timings or alternatively, lax control over which piece went in or came out first. It was all rather rushed. However, the colour is nicely even and for what it was meant for, the test has worked well.
The six organic cottons plus prima (non-organic) as control had substantial scouring, based entirely on trying to make powerloom evenly absorbent. On this test I was successful, despite being over the top! I washed the cottons 'with agitation' in hot water with Ecover. Following a rinse they were left to soak in hot water again with Ecover over two nights. They then were well-rinsed individually, followed by a 10-hour soak collectively in water, powerloom soaking separately. And rinsed again before hanging to dry. Whilst most of the cottons didn't need this treatment, subjecting them to the same ordeal as powerloom was necessary for making comparisons after dyeing.
These seven text pieces, shown in the second picture, were dyed in the formally too-warm vat, which had cooled to 45 deg C, after a soak in water. They had one collective dip, for approximately 10 minutes (despite then having a timer, I managed to not set it properly, so still no accuracy over timing). Again, I was uncertain which went in first and which came out last, though I think I gave powerloom longer.
Sadly, all seven pieces have not dyed evenly, including the test prima. Ian at Woad Inc believes this is related to air (ie oxygen) somehow being introduced to the dye bath - such as clumsy insertion of cloth. This might explain why powerloom has dyed so badly in the past - if it has been unable to absorb water then air must be in the fabric instead thus introducing it to the dyebath? But it also could relate to clumsy handling in the dyebath - cloth touching other cloth. Or back to the scour... should I have used Ecover? Was the three days soak in water alone sufficient for powerloom, or something from the Ecover not quite rinsed out despite my best efforts? Was it because the samples were dipped for 10 minutes? Was it the higher temperature? Certainly there's a difference between treatment of the two primas to make one dye evenly and the other not. Of course I kick myself that I didn't dye the organics in the same vat as the prima four-dip-series. It would have rule the vat out straightaway. I welcome any suggestions those more experienced in indigo dyeing can give...
Also worth commenting on is that the intensity of colour of the 10-minute dip prima is roughly the same as the twice-dipped-for-a-minute-each-time prima. Is that temperature-related, time-related, dip number-related or scour-related?
Memories from indigo dyeing with Abi Evans (outdoors) is that cotton was dyed cooler than animal fibres. With Vivien Prideaux and Isabella Whitworth (see here and here) their vats were blanket-wrapped but otherwise room temperature (though looking back through notes I find conflicting advice). But perhaps woad-sourced indigo acts differently, does require more heat? Although chemically the same as indigo-sourced indigo there may well be other things 'human expertise' doesn't understand about it (in the way that DNA was not mappable a decade or so ago).
Well, the answer is to get my own vat set up and find out! I haven't been able to yet, due to getting work done on the house, the tax return, and sowing of woad seeds that friend Helen will be growing for me. Frustrated that I can't get on with dyeing due to 'other stuff' I also am borecd of doing sample pieces only... it's also time to start developing designs appropriate for blue-chromism.
Neither heat-blasting with an iron nor a second dose of fixing has ended the leaching of colour when soaking. But the second-fix test has clearly demonstrated that tinted soak water is nothing more than excess and unfixed/unfixable dye.
The questions remain: how to rinse it all out and should it be there in the first place?
Current cold (but lovely and sunny) weather rendering my studio at an ambient temperature of 16-17 C means it's not a great time to test the Procions at the advised temperatures. I think only that could ascertain how much excess dye can be expected from direct dye painting.
Meanwhile I'll chuck the existing samples into the washing machine next time there's a load to go on, and see if expensive technology makes a difference. Not that I'd want to do this every time, but it is what Ian Bowers of Fibrecrafts recommended a while back.
Tests on Procion MX are ongoing. I've found no difference in results between freshly mixed and slightly aged dye (eg several days old without soda ash mixed in).
Nor between dye applied in a warm room (22 C), or in a cooler room (20 C), between warm (32 C) and cool (19 C) temperatures of dye when applied (managed to get dye heated to 32 C in pots on storage heater. That was in the evening, probably in the morning I could get them warmer). I'm aware I hadn't got the dyes to the recommended temperature of 35-41 C or even higher for cyan, so the test may be a false one.
Nor any difference in drying dyed cotton under a polythene sheet (keeping damper for longer thus giving a longer reaction time), and allowing to dry uncovered in natural time (whether warm or cool applied dyes).
Nor any difference between rinsing soda ash off the cotton in cold water before boiling, and not doing so (warm and cool applied dyes).
Nor any difference in drying in a warm room after boiling out wax, and drying in an unheated room (warm and cool applied dyes).
In all cases, the rinse water is clear following the post-boil rinse. But soaking in either hot or cold water loosens first excess cyan, then after some time excess magenta. It would seem that yellow doesn't loosen, because even though it would be hard to see yellow in clear water it certainly would change the magenta or cyan towards either red or green. I don't know about black.
Obviously the photos show some variation in colour between test pots, but the results I'm looking for will show dye in one but not the other.
I have some more ideas to try, including getting dye above 35 C with the ambient temperature up to about 25 C (though once when it was at 23 C it was difficult to keep myself from opening a window), ironing these current tests to give them a super-blast of heat and, applying a second layer of fix to new sections of previously dyed and boiled but not soaked pieces.
I checked out my annual electric and water use a few days ago, seeing as both bills had arrived. On electric I'm up marginally since early July, but am still down about 1000 kwh from the year ending June 2006. Frustratingly my water use has remained about the same as the year ending June 2006 (when I wasn't trying), but has been twenty litres lower at 93 litres/day in between. So it can be improved! I think the increase is mainly due to all the water used dip-dyeing earlier in the year.
Over the last month I've been running tests to check out Procion MX's washfastness, or rather the washfastness according to the way I work. I'd been disconcerted to find loose dye on an old but well-fixed batik, and then on other pieces, both Mekong batiks in the waiting and decade old rejects that have lived most of their life in a drawer. Luckily (phew!)... it seems the loose dye is no more than remnant excess dye not washed out during or after boiling out wax. The fixed colour is unaffected. I have always rinsed pieces in cold water after boiling, assuming that as the water was clear it would be enough – but no, it seems a further rinse in hot with Ecover will loosen a little more.
Why hot water will remove unfixed dye straightaway but not cold prompted me to look more into the role of temperature in Procion dyeing. Oh boy. Bang go my carbon reduction credentials.
1 Optimum ambient room temperature for Procion MX dyeing: 20-30 deg C, upper end preferable (various sources).
The winter temperature of my studio and house is, on average, 17-19 C (I don't believe in walking around in t-shirt and bare feet during winter). It may be warmer during summer though. I have always been conscious of ambient temperature for waxing – if I'm wearing more than a t-shirt and a sweatshirt then the room isn't warm enough. But over 20 C? I've been turning the heating up gradually... 4 days later it's just reached 20 C (yeah yeah OK, the outdoor ambient temperature is cooling, it's called November).
2 "Optimum reaction temperatures for Procion MX dyes are between... 35 to 41 C (except for turquoise, which prefers up to... 55 C)" (source: Paula Burch's site)
Oh what? I've no idea what these temperatures mean – in human terms. Hand-hot? Luke-warm? I need to get a thermometer and start measuring, obviously. And then, how would I keep my little jars and mixed-up pots of dye warm in my 20-30 C (upper-end preferable) studio? On top of the storage heater? on a hot plate? sitting in an electric cookpan filled with water maintained at ideal ambient temp?
3 Turquoise (cyan) works at a different temperature to the other colours (source: pburch.net again).
This gives a potential explanation why the cyan on recent test pieces was lighter than expected, and why sometimes cyan can tint the whole cotton during boiling out.
Pondering all this the other day, I realised that Procions are not really suitable for the existing British climate – ironically they could become so with climate warming.
Leaving that aside for a moment, what effect would dye temperatures of 35 - 55 C have on wax? Wax melting points range between 50 and 60 C, slightly higher when resin is added (source: "Batik" by S Soetopo, publ 1983 Indira Bagian Akademi & Sastra). It doesn't bode well for turquoise/cyan, never mind the other colours. Does that also mean most natural dyes are not suitable for batik because of the temperature conflict? At least woad and indigo are OK...
Have I just discovered why batik never was a traditional art form in these isles, despite being practised widely across the world? Does this lack of tradition relate to its low key presence in Britain these days?
Anyway, I need to get on and do some tests... for which I need, firstly, a thermometer. And what's more, no ordinary jam thermometer - starting at 40 C is no good!
There were three specific trials I'd planned for on my indigo dyeing day with Isabella Whitworth: (1) a four-stage series of dips (on prima) to get an idea of how colour builds up with successive dips; (2) comparative dips with the organic cottons (and prima) either scoured first in boiling water with soda ash or by washing in hand-hot water with soda ash; and (3) dipping a large sarong size piece of prima (1.75 x 1 metre) to get an idea of required vat size and other difficulties when working large.
My earlier teachers (Abi Evans, Vivien Prideaux) had already advised that for deeper blues multiple five-minute dips with airing/re-oxygenating time in between gave greater fastness than a single longer dip. Although there seems marginal difference between individual stages the change between first and fourth is striking. Another time I'd like to test hues achievable with up to twenty dips. Quick calculation... requiring 200 individual dips! Taking over 16 hours! I had been pondering various home-made time-saving devices for multiple-piece dipping before the day at Isabella's – definitely one would have come to fruition before 20-stage testing!
The "sarong" wasn't a complete success – although the vastness of blue is gorgeous! But parts have uneven colour – aka bad dyeing! Possibly just in the third stage when I was chinwagging more than concentrating on dyeing and simply didn't open the cloth up enough. Less liquid in the vat by the third dip might also be responsible, not giving the cloth the room it needed. However, the marks are those of cloth not being exposed to dye. Strangely we both commented on brighter lighter patches showing as the cloth hung drying/airing against the light. But they seemed to disappear, perhaps as excess but unfixable excess dye ran down the cloth, obliterating the patches.
With Abi I had learned to lower cloth in to the vat in sheet fashion and similarly remove; with Vivien I'd learned to squeeze out water and lower in in clenched fist, opening the cloth up under the surface, and re-squeezing below the surface before removal. Both methods have the same intention (to prevent air getting into the vat) but the squeezed method would be difficult with waxed cloth to avoid cracking. Hence I need a vat big enough to lower "sheets" in and a high enough ceiling to allow for this – maybe standing on a ladder? Or another device to assist dipping large pieces...
The organic cotton tests were both successful and not successful. One intention was to discover whether each fabric needed boiling to remove starches and other residues from processing, or whether a wash in hot water would suffice. They were boiled for about five minutes each. Soda ash was used with both - alternative trials for another time could be to boil or wash without but testing that would come later. The ideal is to use a fabric that requires the least energy and resources input before dyeing (and waxing), though this could be a false saving if the cotton went through more unecological processes before purchase. I believe an advantage with certified organic cottons is that the processes used have been audited and theoretically are traceable. And certainly the worst offenders have been eliminated. I'll be investigating this later on.
The boiled cloths had a second dip to deepen colour. I was surprised to see the intensity of colour was nearly even over all except the voile, which is darker. They were the first dyeings of the day, and the first few cloths came out with dark almost black streaks in one corner, which haven't washed out. I assume it was indigo transferring from my gloves – I hadn't washed them since the Prideaux workshop (note to myself: haven't washed them since the Whitworth day either so do it while remembered!).
The warm-wash cloths came last, partly because they were still drying and needed to be dry before waxing on the cloth name and process. I was also nearly out of time if I was to catch the bus to Launceston, and so the cloths went in two or three at a time with less eye on the clock. No time for a second dip, they possibly also suffered from a short airing before being dumped in my bucket along with the rest of the wet work. So it isn't possible to do a fair comparison between processes. Instead I'll have to do it with dip-dyeing in Procion.
Of the warm-wash cloths the dye is very patchy on the Bishopston handloom – but I really like the effect! Probably any experienced indigoer will groan embarrassedly at my delight in accidental effect but it has something of a stonewashed look. It hasn't occurred on the boiled version but as already mentioned, the stonewash effect was most likely down to bad practice and not cotton quality (no problems dye-painting with Procion). However, close up the boiled Fabrics Ltd handloom gives a hint of stonewash effect and its warm-wash version also looks stonewashed, so perhaps there is something in it. On the other hand all the other warm-wash cottons have a degree of stonewash (even the prima), which perhaps would have been evened out by a second dyeing. Though the boiled white (but surprisingly not natural) percale also has a suggestion of stonewash. And so frustratingly, I can't really draw conclusions one way or another on washing or boiling or my dyeing ability. Except that the four dip test on prima shows no stonewash.
And then there's the boiled powerloom. Even after two dips the colour doesn't seem happy on the cloth. It's a bit greyish and uneven, not worthy even of being named stonewash. On the warm-wash version the dye is intense along (presumed) creases and blotchy in between, pretty much as already seen with handpainting Procion on cool-soak version. Powerloom needs some serious de-scouring... of what? With what?
Conclusion? Other than powerloom I think all boiled versions would dye evenly enough with further dips and more practice on my part. But I'll wait until after dip-dyeing with Procions before being too deductive.
pics show: (1) four dip comparisons; (2) boiled wash and two dip results; (3)warm-wash, single dip results; (4) handloom comparisons - left, boiled, two dip handloom; right, warm-wash, single dip with stonewash look. The odd dark spots are dew from the grass.
When I was young, I would only wear blue. I would stretch blueness to blue-green or blue-purple to deflect attention from my bias. It was only when I went to art school I felt I should get adventurous with other colours so as not to be always the same (I was too naive to realise the paradox: I was already making a personal statement and instead ended dressing the same as everyone else!). I have often wondered if my Celtic forebears were indigo (or rather woad) dyers and the blue fondness is inherited.
I couldn't believe how much blue got around the bathroom (where I washed out the dyed pieces). It's just as well Vivien Prideaux advised that it would get absolutely everywhere but would come off easily - with Ecover cleaner. Unfortunately mine had run out and it would be a few more days before I could get into town to buy some. Every time I walked into the bathroom I emerged with blue soles – despite several washes and wipes of all surfaces and the floor. The bath tub had blue smudged footprints under the shower for days – so much so that I doubted it would shift. Ever. Even today, a week after getting the Ecover to it, my feet have taken on a slight bluish tinge!
Last week I went on Vivien Prideaux's two-day indigo workshop in Plymouth, part of the inspiring touring show 'Indigo' currently at Plymouth City Museum and Art Gallery. And last Tuesday I had a truly wonderful indigo dyeing day working alongside friend and fellow batikker Isabella Whitworth. I feel I have come on in leaps, bounds and confidence since my first few forays into indigo dyeing with Abi Evans some years ago, which is great because that's what workshops are for!
The experience making up and working with my own vat yesterday was elating, also disturbing as I realise I don't have space for ongoing indigo dyeing here. The mess! Vivien meant it when she said indigo would get everywhere. Isabella and I worked in her double garage with tarpaulins on the floor to catch drips and hold puddles. Abi also worked in a garage sized space and outdoors. When I move, if I don't acquire a garage I will certainly need space for a garage sized shed just for dyeing. For now I had pondered doing it in the kitchen near the back door, and close to the drying line outside... but not now I've remembered what a messy person I am! Small scale my tiny bathroom could be OK, but as I don't really work small scale it won't. Why not in the studio itself? Easy! Don't want a wet floor - it's carpeted (in a fashion). Nor do I need stray indigo powder/granules/streaks/smears popping up all over...
Vivien and Isabella worked their vats in different ways to reduce the indigo (to a soluble state suitable for dyeing, by de-oxygenating the water). Vivien used lime and zinc dust, and Isabella hydrosulphite and caustic soda (as did Abi). "Zinc lime" is, I think, the traditional way still practised by some village craftsmen/women but commercially has been replaced by the "hydros" technique. Vivien indicated that hydros is more reliable but by using fierce chemicals is less environmentally friendly. Both need more research on my part to understand the sustainability issues.
Vivien had two vats already on the go which needed re-activating (that is, re-de-oxygenating) and Isabella made hers up fresh that day (though as mine wasn't "exhausted" by the time I finished will re-activate it another time). Vivien had one natural and one synthetic vat, Isabella's were synthetic though she also uses natural indigo. So, I've been lucky to have experienced both within a short space of time. Vivien's explanation of the difference between natural and synthetic starts in its mode of production – natural indigo is derived from the indigofera species of plants, extracted from its leaves and stems; synthetic is pure chemistry – nothing more or less than the exact chemical formula that is pure indigo – petro-chemically derived. Natural indigo isn't pure - its impurities are what gives it its character... such as colour varying slightly. With synthetic you get digital perfection each time, predictable and measurable.
My inclination is that production of synthetically-produced indigo is probably no better and may be worse environmentally than fibre-reactive dyes; on the other hand only a finite amount of natural indigo can be produced each year (without encroaching on food crop land), and although at a low price in the west because of being imported from lower cost countries, its relative scarcity should be recognised by being used only in dyeing "things" that carry a value of their own - not a financial value but a respect or spiritual value, a value for community and future generations. I am not sure where my work fits into that yet but I know what I shouldn't be doing! Ideal would be a vat that can be replenished/re-activated over and over rather than making up a new one each time, that is if I convert completely to indigo-dyed batik. Having to take regular care of a vat would ensure a good relationship with it, one that wouldn't treat the dye as commodity. To contrast, it's hard to not view synthetically-produced, market-quantified dyes as commodities, and with that attitude how could I really put 'mana' into my work?
Most of the first day of Vivien's workshop was taken up with shibori – aaagh... sewing! Needle, thread and I do not good companions make, but I worked diligently throughout the day only getting narked at going-home time when finding the thread used wasn't adequate for puckering up the cloth. I unpicked all my samples at home that evening and by 1 am had re-made them all with proper-puckering embroidery thread. Although the shibori part of the workshop didn't particularly interest me I do believe in making the most of opportunities to learn new skills, they can open new ways of thinking or approaches (eg, I see now how it's possible with thread and puckering to make cloth three-dimensional, even though that wasn't the intention here). The second day was dyeing day. And my sewing worked – brilliantly in some cases, I humbly thought! Big mistake though was to not sketch, photograph or otherwise note down the technique used in each for future reference. Too much in a rush to get to the vat, I think.
As well as dyeing the shibori pieces I tested small samples of the organic cottons with mixed success. With so many others using the vats it was impossible to do a controlled kind of testing. They were getting exhausted too quickly (they=vats not participants!), and although all took the dye some are far paler than others. So I carried out this testing again at Isabella's, with 2 five min dips on each. These samples were boiled first in soda ash water to scour them. Additional sample pieces that had only been washed in warm water with soda were also tested.
At Isabella's I also dyed a 2 x 1.2 metre length of prima, to get a grasp of vat size. The tub began with about ten litres of dye, which had reduced a bit by the time of the first dip, and a bit more by the third. Dry, the cloth shows uneven dyeing streaks at one end. Although all the cloth was below the surface, the cloth/dye/tub ratio wasn't high enough to ensure all was opened out and able to absorb dye. A deeper vessel containing twenty litres dye would be my next aim, along with a contraption to hold the cloth open top and bottom as it goes in – research and design cap needed!
Today is washing out day... more to follow.
top pic - shibori and indigo dyed pieces drying at Vivien Prideaux's workshop. Mine are just right of centre stage, hanging on the looped railings.
middle pic - Isabella Whitworth amongst her batikked and dipped indigo scarves (pre-dyed in annatto). The vat I worked with is under the blanket inside on the right.
bottom pic - My organic cotton tests drying at Vivien Prideaux's workshop
I've been playing with solar power. Five or so years after first pondering it I have bought a Freeplay Ranger solar-powered and wind-up radio, and also a Freeloader portable solar charger for mobile and camera. I love them both!
Proof that "objects" are anything but... an hour after ordering the new radio I turned on the kitchen radio: hissssssssss.... Hmm. It was working at breakfast. Only a few hours later it had died. Over twenty years old I think, it worked brilliantly for most of that. And presumably held on faithfully until the last moment, right until knowing the next generation was safely on its way. Something like old and ill people who "hang on" until an occasion, a particular moment has been reached and then they die, presumably more at peace than before.
Unfortunately I had earmarked the new radio for the studio, but couldn't transfer the existing studio radio to kitchen because I play (music) tapes on it (especially while the CD player is out of action). I thought a second new radio would be needed but you know what's so great: having a portable radio again! I take it round with me to whichever room I'm in, and it's no effort! I hadn't realised just how lazy and consumerist wired appliances can make us, well, me anyway.
So far it's stayed playing just by being on window sills (after an initial 24 hour electric charge) but I am spending a lot of time maximising direct sun dose of both toys. Ideally they need to be outside in direct sunlight but unless I also am outside that's not so easy. They are trickle charging through the windows but several days of daylight and some sun-through-the-window didn't re-charge the Freeloader enough to fully charge the mobile; it took another 10 minutes on electric.
But what about charging a wax pot by solar, or rather charging a battery to provide power for the wax pot? It doesn't seem feasible at the moment – not just financially but also in terms of creating enough juice to fire the thing! None of the solar panels I've read about online will do more than run laptops, electric lawnmowers, TVs, lamps etc, certainly nothing hotter than a toaster. So definitely not wax pots or Burcos (I use the Burco to boil wax out). But solar thermal collectors for heating hot water (for boiling out) might work, though personally I use little hot water during our warmer months. Then there is the question of Cornwall's sunniness... plenty hot water in summer, warmish only in winter.
Carbon reduction through lower power consumption is the main reason for me investigating renewable-powered tools. But I also believe within a few years electricity will start being rationed, either by a number of off-hours per day or through personal allowance. There's a few studio-based essentials I feel handy to have around – radio for news, wind-up torch and an ability to charge the mobile and camera. But if I have to seriously curtail waxing time I need to find either an alternative way to heat wax (and water to remove it) or find a non-heat-requiring resist.
In Malaysia (where I first made batik) wax was heated in a wok over a naked flame, either from a gas stove or charcoal fire. In my current studio set-up with its low ceiling, neither sounds desirable especially in winter when window-opening is minimised. But I need to find out how carbon intensive these methods are – if they are carbon-practical alternatives then my workspace may need to change from an indoor one to... hmmm. Outdoor working is great but the cold, draughts, damp and everything else about the Great British Outdoors are not conducive to wax resist working.
I've been fascinated by mud resist since first hearing this is how Mali people decorate cloth. But their batik doesn't use mud to resist dye in the conventional sense, instead mud is applied to yellow-dyed cotton, with something (iron?) in the mud turning the yellow brown. Un-mudded areas are discharged with a caustic solution returning them to white. It would be great if china clay could be used in some way – but again I stumble with my lack of chemical knowledge. I do want to experiment with china clay, local river muds and natural dyes, but the potential size of the experiment seems overwhelming! Either I spend aeons on trial and error, or I seek help!
By chance a few weeks ago while visiting an artist/gardener in the next village she produced some decorative batik she'd made as a student. Which led into discussion of various techniques... as she had used mud resist! And then she produced her notebook full of recipes and samples – which I have on loan... It's a start!
If everyone in the world lived like me we'd need 1.9 planets.
One Point Nine! Almost a whole other planet. So I am using/consuming nearly twice as much as Earth can sustain. I've been greedy while thinking I wasn't!
Planet-based measurements certainly bring home the impact of your lifestyle. Yes, I've been playing with online carbon calculators... I also discovered my ecological footprint. It's around 3.2 global hectares. The UK average is 5.3. Worldwide there are only 1.8 biologically productive global hectares per person.
My carbon footprint is around 6.3-7.5 tonnes annually of carbon dioxide emissions (varies according to calculator). The UK average is 10.22 tonnes. But I've nothing to be smug about – when my car-driving travel pattern is used my total annual emissions rise to... 9.5 tonnes! Discovering this stunned me. Even upset me. I was sure I was doing way better than most – after all I work mostly from home and only used the car a few times a week. Of course living rurally means going anywhere will be quite a way, but even so...
Seem it's been a blessing to have had to give up driving for a year – I have been forced to make hard choices and changes in what I can and cannot do. For instance I didn't submit work this week for an exhibition at Cube 3 in Plymouth because it would have required four trips to the city (meaning four lifts in a car big enough to take my work). But that wasn't so much about carbon as time, expense, and the arranging of four separate lifts.
Breaking down the figures my electric/energy footprint is 3.2-3.6 tonnes (depending on the calculator used) made up of 3.48 tonnes heating, hot water and lighting and 0.38 appliances (national average 4.56 heating/hot water/lighting and 1.56 appliances).
My house/studio are all electric, and at the moment living by myself means I can't halve the heating aspect. My energy footprint is based on 100% non-renewable electricity even though I buy from Ecotricity. Less than 5% of electricity currently produced in the UK is from renewables, and although Ecotricity's tariff supplies me with 26% renewable it seems more appropriate to work within the national share of non-renewable – ie 95%. So I left it at 100%; some calculators already factor in the renewable. Apparently demand for green energy is outstripping supply... explains several new applications for wind farms around this windy moor.
My land-based travel is 0.6-0.7 tonnes (not driving) or 3.0-3.6 (driving) – isn't the difference stark! The national average for all travel is 4.1 tonnes. I haven't flown since 1999.
My industrial/consumption footprint is 2.5-2.9 tonnes - though being subjective are only rough guides, as the calculator websites admit. It depends how much new or second-hand stuff you buy, whether you repair before re-buying, how local your food is and so on. I haven't adjusted anything particularly in my favour, just made myself average. Around half of CO2 emissions come from industry and commerce to support our everyday lifestyle. Works out at five tonnes a person.
The government's target is for a 60% cut in CO2 emissions by 2050, to around 4 tonnes per person, and about 7 to 7.5 tonnes (26-32%) by 2020. But George Monbiot has concluded that for a 50/50 chance of avoiding more than two degrees of global warming we need an 80% cut in global emissions by 2050 with 91% per capita being the British share. The Tyndall Centre affirms this by demonstrating that "even a 30% chance of not exceeding the 2 degC threshold require[s] the UK to cut its total carbon emissions by 70% by 2030 and in the region of 90% by 2050."
Down to one tonne a head in the next 40 years? Three tonnes by 2030? Substantial doesn't begin to say it. But I believe we can get there!
So, where from here?
Alongside energy and water use tables I have started a travel table. And now that I have conversion figures courtesy of the Climate Outreach and Information Network (COIN) I can calculate my CO2 emissions alongside them. The SMMTCO2 website has given exact CO2 emissions for my car, a Peugeot 306 hatchback, of 176 grams per kilometre.
Heating is another important area to address. Batikking does require warmth – for waxing and when drying dyes. So do I to feel comfortable enough to work! Being too hot is a less of a problem, anyway I'm quite content with an electric fan (for now).
These are only the first steps towards calculating the carbon cost of making batik and making my practice sustainable. It's going to take more research to figure out specific costs and even more to discover externalised costs from industry and sourcing materials. I also need to consider offsetting my "excess" carbon – not to make me feel OK but as a constructive contribution to address my part in climate change.
COIN lists and ranks a range of carbon calculators. I used Resurgence.com's, COIN's own, Ecofoot.org's, Bestfootforward.com's and, not listed there, the UK government's new one, ActOnCO2. It is so over-designed it looks like carbon emissions don't need to be taken seriously. Why does everything have to be entertainment these days? But dig deep enough and you find a methodology paper which gives more specific information – I congratulate DEFRA for this openness, and for asking for feedback.
Three strangers, three conversations. Had I driven (as would have been my former inclination as everything could be visited (ie "done") in a day) then I would never have met these people, never would have had such interesting and stimulating exchanges with them. But as I travelled slowly, walking or by train (other than lifts to and from home, and one to a railway station), taking two days, there was time, and so I did. Taking it slow and being away also made it a mini-holiday and back home I feel energised and invigorated...
I went to Slimbridge, Britain's first wetland nature reserve last week. I travelled on to Bath to see the Batik Transitions exhibition at the Museum of East Asian Art, staying overnight in Bath Youth Hostel. Here is the first conversation, I will post the others later.
Conversation One
After being dropped at Slimbridge village by my lift, I enjoyed a pleasant half-hour's walk from the centre past cows moving field and a working canal lock-bridge. Just before the centre a sign invites you to view and read about their reed bed filtration system. All their waste water and sewage is filtered through several stages including gravels and different plant groupings. All the nasty bits for us are food for bacteria that live in the reeds root network. Clean water eventually flows out into a wildlife pond, proof it works! Adam Joseph Lewis Centre at Oberlin College both incorporates a reed bed system in their building and explains its workings well.
Last year I researched wax removal processes*, including disposal of both used wax and the cleaning agent (in my case, boiling water). It included the effects of disposal via the sewer, which I contrasted with direct disposal into the ground. But disposal via reedbed filtering hadn't crossed my mind so I seized this moment to learn more (had I been driving I would have already left, because of the intention of "doing" Bath in the same day). After a phone conversation or two, a WWT specialist met me and kindly gave some outline advice for my situation.
A reed bed filtration system would probably be impractical due to scale. Scale of my practice more than scale of space needed for filtering! The system would need to be regularly "fed" waste water to stay active/alive, so including household waste water/sewage would make sense. Umm, what about when I go away, say for two weeks? Yes, not advised, it's long enough to starve the reed bed. I pondered collective action as a solution but feel in my street only one household might consider it without thinking it weird. For now, anyway. Who knows about the future?
Every reed bed system needs to be designed precisely for the potential waste it receives, so my hypothetical one would need to take dyes into account as well as waxy water. Chemical dyes and natural dyes – I am still considering switching to natural dyes. Procions would need more than a casual conversation to analyse but I feel in the doses I use they would break down sufficiently and harmlessly (in the early 1990s I sought advice on their disposal via mains sewage from someone working for the then National Rivers Authority and a housemate working for Severn Trent Water authority; both OKd them). Natural dyes also might affect micro-organisms within the reed bed – they are essentially chemicals too. But what was made apparent during the talk was incompatibility of inorganic materials to reed bed systems – such as metal mordants used to fix natural dyes.
I have read and heard from time to time that chemical dyes are (or can be) more environmentally friendly than natural dyes simply because of the mordants used for fixing most natural dyes. I really doooo need to look into this properly... and the carbon cost of both. I also have an inkling that wood ash or just plain wood can be used for fixing. Indigo wouldn't have the same concerns, not requiring a mordant. Not to say it wouldn't introduce other problems.
But the biggest problem to adopting a reed bed system at my studio and house would be location location location... the garden slopes uphill from the back of the house. Aaagh! Completely the wrong direction! But a point to consider for when I move...
* The wax removal article needs a bit of amending before being posted here, I will try to do this soon.
The wet change in the weather reminded me that in this earlier post I described my surprise at the amount of water needed for dip-dyeing fabric and was going to suss how much was being used.
A length of prima cotton measuring 104 x 170 cm and weighing around 200 grams used between 80 and 107 litres. This was made up by 20 litres initial washing and rinsing, 5 soaking the cloth prior to dyeing, another 5 for the initial dye bath plus 1.5 used to dilute the salt and soda ash, and finally between 50 and 75 for final rinsing, rinsing and re-rinsing. When I switched process to overdyeing with a second colour (to achieve the intended wet sand colour) an additional 60 - 86 litres will have been used (the same as the first dyeing less the initial wash/rinse), totalling 140 to 193 litres.
These figures are way too high! Think of it in terms of milk or beer or petrol. No one would sensibly consider wasting 140 litres or 246 pints of Tribute, for instance, in such a way.
I can see ways to re-cycle the 'waste' water such as the initial soak water doubling as first dye rinse water. All used water could be stored for re-use as bucketed toilet-flush water instead of just the occasional bucket or two I did chuck there (though storage isn't too practical due to small bathroom size). According to uswitch.com toilet flushing uses 8 litres a go and this activity accounts for a third of our average daily use of 16 bucketsful of water. And to think I used 14 buckets-worth just for one dyeing!
When travelling in Australia and New Zealand I occasionally came across army personnel returning from training or just travelling across country, all very friendly and sociable (what sort of Aussie or Kiwi isn't!). Generous too, they often gave me their unused ration packs - high energy biscuits especially. An Aussie told me that they were trained to survive in the bush on just 4 (or was it 6? or 2?) litres of water a day - drinking, cooking, washing the lot. A real jaw dropper for me who drank 3 or 4 litres daily! Of course some water doubled up its uses, so for instance water that tinned food was cooked in could afterwards be drunk, or used to re-hydrate other food, and then for shaving. Other than drinking, I tried rationing my water for a few days to 4 litres and it wasn't much fun.
Yet many people in the world get by on twenty litres a day. If they can, can we? OFWAT reckons British household daily use is 352 litres, working out at 147 litres per person. About the equivalent for dyeing my cotton.
Being on a metred supply I can calculate my average daily water use. My bills show I used 45.9 cubic metres, or 45,900 litres between 22 February 2006 and 17 April 2007 (420 days). That is, 109 litres per day. The six months to the 25 August last year it averaged at 93.4 litres/day. The previous year it was 112 litres. But I am not smug or complacent - all are still a lot of water whether you compare it to bottles of Tribute, developing world use, or army rations.
And so, as part of sustainable batik practice and daily lifestyle I aim over the next year to further reduce my daily water use to below 80 litres (for starters).
As well as looking for ways to re-cycle dye-related water I should think more about harvesting rain for dyeing purposes. Currently I store rainfall from my shed roof for watering the garden, but because of living mid-terrace, with a right of way along the back impeding placement of a downpipe and butt, I haven't harvested rain from the house roof. At the moment it runs off into the mains sewers, such a waste (of water and of downstream re-treatment). Being able to harvest roof rainwater is one priority for when - eventually - I move house.
