Artist George Vye has been creating hand-dyed silk scarves for 30 years, selling them through a gallery in Philadelphia but never here.

"I just never thought they would sell here," said the Waikiki resident.

The recent Punahou Carnival proved him wrong, when 40 of his $40 scarves flew off the racks in two days.

"At first I brought 12 scarves, and when those sold, they called and asked, ‘Can you bring 12 more?’ Then it changed to, ‘Bring everything you have,’ and when I got there, women were waiting in line for my scarves."

It’s no wonder, considering they make the perfect color accessory for spring and summer.

But that doesn’t mean he’s letting his newfound popularity go to his head or that he has any ambition of becoming the next great accessories designer.

"I’m not a person to walk into a gallery and say, ‘This is what you’re waiting for.’ I hate rejection so I really can’t push myself to go out there and look for a space. I’m sure I could sell more if I could do that kind of thing."

He can be contacted through his website, george­vye.com, but going forward, as in the past, dyeing silks will remain more of a therapeutic than business endeavor for Vye, who was invited by a friend to try dyeing silk.

"She thought I would like it, and she was right. I fell in love with the process. When I’m ironing it and see all the colors start to come out, it’s a complete joy. You never know what you’re going to get."

VYE USES imported French Sennelier dyes for intense color that doesn’t bleed once steamed, washed and pressed. He creates designs by applying dyes to various parts of habo­tai, dupi­oni or heavy Thai silk coated with rock salt that helps to create spatter and star-burst patterns. He uses a syringe for pinpoint application of the dyes.

He had already tried his hand at painting, pastels and photography, and for three years owned and operated a gallery in New York City, where sales of his work broke even but weren’t enough to sustain a lifestyle beyond that of a starving artist.

When he moved from New York to Hono­lulu 20 years ago, interest in his work sank from moderate to nil.

"There’s no market for my work here because it’s a little scary," he said of his pastels, a Francis Bacon-like gallery of grotesques and the macabre rendered in a mix of muddy and bright colors worthy of a Robert Rauschenberg collage.

Luckily, he has an agent who continues to place his works in mainland galleries, and he’s beginning to incorporate the scarves into his artwork by wrapping individuals in silk from head to toe in art-themed portraits and photographic vignettes.

"It’s such a magical fabric," he says. "I also do cotton T-shirts but it’s not the same."

On the human body the silks billow and move with the slightest breeze. Under sunlight different glossy colors appear and recede as the fabric skims over the skin’s surface like something alive.

"I love working with pastels, but working with silk, something magical happens. When the colors finally come through, it’s an absolute joy."