Felting is part of my therapy. I find it relaxing because I can be doing something creative while sitting in hours of stop-and-go traffic, or during my lunch break I can sit outside and knit. I am stuck on making large tote bags of my own design. It is not hard, a bottom with sides. Each one is a little different because I experiment with size each time.
My grown son happened to be visiting one night when I finished knitting the first bag. It was about 18" wide and 3’ tall, with a gauge that made it look like a fishing net. The knitted handles stretched about a foot with the weight of the bag as I held it in front of him. He had a puzzled look and stated “I hope you don’t expect me to wear that”. What!? He thought he was looking at a fishnet tank top that I had just knitted especially for him. In his defense, growing up with an artistic mother, he has been subjected to my oddball creativity and humor.
Leaving him to wonder, I went to my studio/washroom to felt the cast net. I placed the bag on the table with a bc card to give you a scale of it. Here it is pre-washed:
I grabbed his jeans and added them to the wash. My girlfriend Kim said it helps with the agitation (felting process). Bag then comes out like this:
This is only my second felt job. I am concerned. So I proceed to block it. Son is relieved that this is no longer a wearable item. We end up with this:
This bag is a mangle of left over wool skiens, so the colors are impromptu. I thought it might be a bit much, but I have received several complements on it. I sewed my personal dress label (from back when I made custom children's clothing) inside it, it looks like it was meant to be.
I like this stress relief program much better than stuff like Prozac. I dry my son's jeans and he discovers large wads of felted wool in the pockets. I think it keeps him on his toes around me. Those damn artists!