Red홍화 safflower & 소목 sappanwood
Three days in the dye yard, June to August. Not a write-up — just what I kept between the bowls. Mostly things my hands figured out before my head did.
I.SAT 28 JUNEsafflower field · hot, no wind
Picking starts early, before the heat. Only the petals that have already turned orange-red — pinch the tuft, pull, leave the head to keep flowering.
the bracts are spiny. they go straight through gloves. nobody mentioned this.
Rows of us in straw hats. Nobody talks much — you find a pace and stay in it.
basket at the hip, one hand steadies the
stem, the other pulls.
too early → only yellow. too late →
dry, brittle.
Petals into a cloth bag, kneaded in water. The water goes yellow-orange first. That isn't the colour we want — wash, change the water, wash again, until it runs clearer.
knead → squeeze → new water
× many. lost count.
What's left gets pressed by hand into flat little cakes, 홍화병, and laid out to dry. Like this the red can wait for weeks.
hands orange for three days. not red — orange. the red is still hiding in there.
No one counts minutes. They look at the cloth, then at each other, and someone says "조금 더." A little more.
Q — how do they all agree when it's "enough"? ask next time.
Out on the line the pink looked almost electric. I didn't know a flower could do this.
II.FRI 11 JULYindoor workshop · steel bowls, lots of steam
Before any colour: wet everything out. Cloth that isn't evenly wet takes the dye unevenly, and you only see it later — as clouds.
patience is a step. it's in the recipe, it's just not written down.
Skeins hung over a steel rod — lifted, turned, lowered, again. The rhythm matters more than the strength.
lift → air → back in.
don't let it sit folded.
squeeze, don't wring.
Sappanwood this time. Chips boiled, then strained — the bath comes out the colour of wine.
the steam smells like wood and something sweet. glasses fogged the whole morning.
Same wood, different baths, two colours. The plant doesn't decide alone — the water does too.
선생님 talked with his hands the whole time. most of it wasn't in the handout.
Q — which of this did he learn from a book, and which from someone's hands?
III.WED 6 AUGback outside · the whole process, start to finish
Pounding the dried petals first. The pestle is worn smooth — other people's hands, for years.
Dried stalks under the cauldron. The ash becomes 잿물, the lye water that coaxes the red out of the petals. Nothing here gets thrown away.
too strong and it ruins the colour, too weak and nothing comes. she just knew. I don't know how yet.
Squeeze out the yellow again. It runs gold, almost too pretty to pour away.
Then the same bag into the ash water — and now what comes out is red-brown, like strong tea.
Schisandra water goes in and the bath flips. Orange-brown → red, right in front of you.
fingertips red at the edges this time. not orange. it came out.
Lift it to the sun to read the colour. Down in the basin it lies to you.
Q — how long does this pink hold in sunlight? the June cloth already looks softer.
Onto the green lines, wet and heavy. Shake it out flat so it doesn't dry in creases — the folds hold dye differently.
shade, not full sun, at first.
turn it once. let the wind finish.
wet it looks darker than it will be. it keeps lightening as it dries. hard not to touch it.
WHAT I KNOW NOW THAT I DIDN'T IN JUNE
- Red has to be coaxed out. Yellow first, then ash, then sour.
- Timing is read with eyes, not clocks.
- Hands remember more than this notebook does.
- It takes a lot of people to make one pink.
next: blue. → indigo note