So today marks my seventh day with Widya in his batik studio. I'd rather be there then anywhere... time flies when I'm working with the melted bees wax, sipping Bali coffee and singing really bad songs on local radio (80's covers and syrupy Indonesian love songs). I truly enjoy creating this art and being in Widya's family. This Bali wouldn't be for everyone, but it's amazig for me!
I'm more than half way through my trip -- unbelievable. I feel like I just got here. My internet access is spotty, so I'm not sure when I'll be posting again. Thank you to everyone who has sent emails, commented on my posts and written on my Facebook page. I miss you all and really like hearing from you, a half a world away.
Love, Diane.
Friday, March 27, 2009
More batiks I'm working on, in progress
Widya adds some detail to our "Fish/Leaf/Ying/Yang" batik.
"Temple" batik, mid-process.
More batik pictures
The final "Tree" batik... as you can see, the final product usually differs greatly from how it looks at any other stage of the process. I love it!
"Tree" batik, mid-process... the chicken digs it.
Sarong #3 (this is not the final version, which is more brown than red).
Sarong #2.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Batik Pics #2
My first batik sarong, handmade by Diane and Widya in Bali, '09.
My first original batik wall hanging, handmade by Diane and Widya in Bali, '09.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Batik Pics #1
Step one, my design (and a cup of ginger tea).
Hours later...
Widya (Wee-dee-ya) in his studio.
Batik
Yesterday morning I went to a village north of Ubud to meet a man named Widya for Batik instruction. I thought I was in for a quick half-day lesson in Batik, and just packed a bit of water to keep me going until lunch (I'm sure Widya wondered why I had traveled so light). I sketched out a design, transferred that to rough, white cotton fabric, learned how to work with dark, molten bees wax and handle a primitive wax "pen." Widya helped me a lot, and truly my first batik is a collaborative effort. I asked him to sign the piece with me, and we both did so ceremoniously, taking pictures to mark the occasion.
Then there was hand-painting the piece then letting it dry, then dipping it to make the painted parts were "color fast." Then we added more wax design on top of painted sections, and dipped the piece in a robin's egg blue. When I left eight hours later, my batik was drying on the yard next to his shop, while ducks and chickens paraded by. I was beat and hungry. I didn't have it in me to wait for my batik to dry this second time, adding yet more wax design before dip it in a darker blue. After that, we'll need to dip it in the color fast solution again before boiling the fabric to remove the wax and see the final version.
Widya has a wife and two sons. He lives in a village of 700 people, in a home (on a small farm) that belongs to his wife's parents. He learned the art of Batik over 20 years ago, and used to work in Java (Indonesia) in a Batik factory. His brother is still there, and has some of his work published in a book on Batik that floats around Widya's shop.
Widya is warm and funny, and we became friends pretty quickly. Throughout the day we sipped ginger tea and laughed while teaching each other Indonesian/English words. As we shared the job, the art, of batik, we'd say to each other "yes, dear" and "no, dear." Widya started this term of endearment, and each time he said it he laughed so hard he'd nearly fall off his little wooden chair.
I'm heading back today to finish my first batik and to start two other pieces. It's gonna be another great day!
Then there was hand-painting the piece then letting it dry, then dipping it to make the painted parts were "color fast." Then we added more wax design on top of painted sections, and dipped the piece in a robin's egg blue. When I left eight hours later, my batik was drying on the yard next to his shop, while ducks and chickens paraded by. I was beat and hungry. I didn't have it in me to wait for my batik to dry this second time, adding yet more wax design before dip it in a darker blue. After that, we'll need to dip it in the color fast solution again before boiling the fabric to remove the wax and see the final version.
Widya has a wife and two sons. He lives in a village of 700 people, in a home (on a small farm) that belongs to his wife's parents. He learned the art of Batik over 20 years ago, and used to work in Java (Indonesia) in a Batik factory. His brother is still there, and has some of his work published in a book on Batik that floats around Widya's shop.
Widya is warm and funny, and we became friends pretty quickly. Throughout the day we sipped ginger tea and laughed while teaching each other Indonesian/English words. As we shared the job, the art, of batik, we'd say to each other "yes, dear" and "no, dear." Widya started this term of endearment, and each time he said it he laughed so hard he'd nearly fall off his little wooden chair.
I'm heading back today to finish my first batik and to start two other pieces. It's gonna be another great day!
Monday, March 16, 2009
Trippin'
My first week in Bali has been emotionally difficult, hence the lack of posts over the past six days. Suffice it to say -- the trip I had planned, the trip I had thought it would be, isn't the trip I'm getting. I'm getting the trip I need, if that makes sense.
A new friend here in Ubud told me today that certain locations on earth are associated with key parts of the body, or chakras. The Himalayas are the head (makes sense), for instance -- and Ubud, the liver. This also makes sense to me, given the emotional endurance test (purging?) of the past week.
Here in Ubud people realize and respect that evil is unavoidable. Evil and good exist side by side here very visibly. The black and white checkered fabric draped over statues, tables and doorways here are reminders of this belief. I first understood this reality in the alarming way that beauty and artistry exist everywhere, alongside feral street dogs and garbage... scooter exhaust hovers over beautiful, graceful traditional dance performances... delicate music is heard as slaughtered pigs sqweel and roosters crow all day long.
My new friend also suggested that here what you have and feel inside, you feel and experience outside. Reality is actually reality here; there is no shrouding of what is uncomfortable or unsightly. Conversely, we Westerners hide our garbage. We bury personal pain and other "stuff" we don't want to deal with, the stuff we don't think is beautiful, conforming, comfortable and acceptable.
Well, the past several days I've been shifting and growing, working to shed some things I have needed and wanted to shed for some time. In some ways, I'm giving birth to a new and improved, more "real" ME. The best way out of something is through it, and I'm now just seeing the light and the end of this week's uncomfortable, dark tunnel.
I think the forces of the universe pushed me to get to the end of this first trip, so that I could really begin and love this trip to Bali.
A new friend here in Ubud told me today that certain locations on earth are associated with key parts of the body, or chakras. The Himalayas are the head (makes sense), for instance -- and Ubud, the liver. This also makes sense to me, given the emotional endurance test (purging?) of the past week.
Here in Ubud people realize and respect that evil is unavoidable. Evil and good exist side by side here very visibly. The black and white checkered fabric draped over statues, tables and doorways here are reminders of this belief. I first understood this reality in the alarming way that beauty and artistry exist everywhere, alongside feral street dogs and garbage... scooter exhaust hovers over beautiful, graceful traditional dance performances... delicate music is heard as slaughtered pigs sqweel and roosters crow all day long.
My new friend also suggested that here what you have and feel inside, you feel and experience outside. Reality is actually reality here; there is no shrouding of what is uncomfortable or unsightly. Conversely, we Westerners hide our garbage. We bury personal pain and other "stuff" we don't want to deal with, the stuff we don't think is beautiful, conforming, comfortable and acceptable.
Well, the past several days I've been shifting and growing, working to shed some things I have needed and wanted to shed for some time. In some ways, I'm giving birth to a new and improved, more "real" ME. The best way out of something is through it, and I'm now just seeing the light and the end of this week's uncomfortable, dark tunnel.
I think the forces of the universe pushed me to get to the end of this first trip, so that I could really begin and love this trip to Bali.
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