With approximately one hour left in the three-hour shibori dyeing class, most of my classmates seemed happy with their sample pieces dyed in various patterns.

Even with the samples done, I saw only one thing: a yard and a half of undyed muslin, and the opportunity to make a large shibori dyed piece without having to buy a dye kit and bucket of my own.

I quickly settled down at the table I had earlier accidentally dyed with indigo from my samples, and turned to the large piece of cloth. I knew I would need to work quickly, or my piece would not be ready to go by the end of the class.

I started by folding the 60-inch-wide, yard-and-a-half long length of cloth in half, then turned that on its side. I folded the remainder lengthwise to form five panels, leaving me with a 30-inch-long, multi-layered rectangle of cloth.

From what I had seen of my samples, I decided that stitching the cloth with dental floss would create the design I was looking for. I cut a long piece of floss and threaded the needle I had been given, and set to work.

It is amazing how quickly a skilled artisan can create rows of narrow stitches out of dental floss in close proximity to each other when she has her mind set on a mission.

Much like when laying bricks, the stitches needed to be staggered from one row to the next in order to make the fabric gather properly when bunched up. It is surprisingly difficult to maintain the needed randomness while stitching, and even more so when stitching in a hurry.

Thirty minutes later, I had the entire length of the piece stitched, with five rows of stitches near each end and a gap left open in the center.

After each end was bundled together, I realized that my shibori looked oddly akin to a large piece of hard candy. I needed to think quickly, as time was running out, and I did not want the middle of my piece to be plain.

I grabbed some heavier waxed twine, and tied it in a knot around one end of the fabric. Moving fast, I bound the entire shibori piece in a tight spiral with the waxed twine, tying down the gathered pieces and the center alike. This resulted in a long, tightly-coiled tube of fabric.

With only 25 minutes left before another group would be taking the classroom, I passed my large piece off to my husband, who folded it over, placed it in the earlier partially dyed cloth bag, and submerged it into the indigo vat.

Two minutes later, the piece came out of the vat, and went into the nearby plastic pail to begin its 20-minute rest period.

I waited, nervously watching as the massive bundle of cloth began turning green and then blue. I watched the clock carefully, waiting for the 20 minutes to pass so I could start rinsing the piece and get out of the classroom.

When 20 minutes passed, I rushed to the stainless steel sink and began carefully cutting away the heavy waxed twine that held it bound together. As I worked, my husband stood over me, directing the spray nozzle of the faucet over the cloth to rinse it as I worked.

Once it was free of the heavy twine, I began snipping the dental floss stitches and pulling the cloth free of it as quickly as I could. The straight-line nature of these stitches made them easy to remove.

As the time ran out, I stopped my work and wrung out the cloth as best I could before returning to the classroom. My teachers unfolded the cloth in front of the class, and I managed to capture a picture as the interior folded parts of the shibori had not yet been exposed to air to turn blue, and were still green.

Join me next week as the cloth turns its final color, and I learn why dyed items should not be rinsed in a modern ceramic hotel bathtub.

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Gretchen Richards-Meunier is special to the News and Sentinel. She is a fifth-generation artisan, and skilled in multiple art forms.