More Yarn!

In this world there are knitters, crocheters, and weavers. And then there are all those other folks... The ones who don't understand the absolute craving for yarn. The overwhelming temptation. Colored yarn. Fuzzy yarn. Glossy, soft, drapey yarn. Warm, bulky, cozy yarn. Wool, llama, alpaca, buffalo, and cotton yarn.

Yarn!

Breaking out the needles or crochet hook or the loom and starting a new project is one of the best feelings. There's anticipation and excitement. And...

Frustration and impatience.

Yarn!

anny

Looming

 At the request of a couple friends, here's the loom. It's a Schacht School Loom, purchased from WEBS. For more info, click on WEBS. There's minimal assembly, excellent directions, and all the necessary stuff except for the warp (vertical) and weft (horizontal) threads. I recommend a strong twine for the warp because those are taut. And a soft yarn is suitable for the weft...as long as you don't pull it too tight.

I'm using bits and pieces left over from other projects. I'll probably use the finished tapestries for gifts. Maybe...I'll even run a contest later in the summer. In the meantime, I find the weaving a soothing pasttime.

As a matter of fact, why do you suppose they call it weaving, anyway? Why not looming? Why isn't the finished piece loomed instead of woven? Can you imagine weaving something the size of a blanket or rug on such a low-tech loom?

The more I use the loom, the more I appreciate the workmanship of all the woven pieces I've seen. Perhaps that's the important thing...

anny

Threads

I have a small table top, low-tech loom. There are other looms far more high tech than mine. And of course, there are no doubt thousands more primitive than mine. But for the textiles I want to produce, the loom I have is sufficient.

I bought it on the internet, but I could have built one with exactly the same technological aspects using sticks from the woods and a handful of small nails. For thousands of years men and women--and children--have used such looms to produce everything from primitive belts to exquisite rugs and blankets.

Weaving on a low-tech loom is a slow process that allows much time for contemplation. Some days I may add two or three rows. Other days, perhaps ten. There's no rush. As with many creative crafts, speed is not of the essence. The entire point of the exercise is the journey.

The colors the weaver chooses, the yarns (or strings or other media) employed all affect the ultimate outcome. In just such a way, weaving mimics life. Our decisions influence our future.

A tapestry is woven from bottom to top. The choices made early on cannot be changed if we reach the midpoint and decide we've made a mistake. No, at that time we must continue on, perhaps making different choices to create a harmonious whole.

The complete piece will most likely contain dark and light threads. Without the dark, our eyes can't really appreciate the light. The more colors we employ, the greater the detail. Two or three color tapestry, even though bright in color, is likely to be monotonous compared to say...a six or eight color piece.

Some days the hunk will stand in my doorway and ask, "How long will this take?"

"As long as required."

Anything worth doing is worth taking the time to do well. I suspect that's one reason so few people enjoy life. We're rushing, rushing, rushing to get to the next thing without really stopping to savor the place we're occupying now. What, you say? Are we to savor the bad, too?

Well, perhaps not savor. But certainly we should pay heed to the events around us, take note of the lessons to be learned, lest we face a second or third time around. After all, we don't really want a tapestry composed only of angry, dark, mournful colors.

When the piece is finished, we will sit back and observe how the dark threads make the light ones look so much brighter. How sadness ultimately gives way to joy. And loneliness is washed away in ripples of friendship and love.

anny