Today I would a weaver be…
Who knows what will become of me?
Perhaps I’l ride on magic rug
And sip hot chai in frothing mug.
Or maybe wrapped in blanket warm
I’ll watch the coming thunderstorm
Cocooned in woven warp and weft
‘Til all the stormy days have left.
Or I could set a tabled tea
On cloth with colors of the sea,
And clinking cups we’ll dream of lands,
Weaving words, our hearts in hands.
Back and forth, and front to back
I’ll weave the day with nary lack.
And be right here on weaver’s seat
Who I am with treadling feet.
I am at this moment wrapped in a blanket, though not the woven kind from a loom, but crocheted. The sun is rising over our neighborhood which itself has a blanket of icy white. Pale shafts of pink and coral glisten on the blurple ** street as the sun peeks up over the neighborhood trees. I often imagine the sun being a bit hesitant to rise at first. He sends out tentative fingers of light to “test the waters” and see if it’s safe to come out or not. We had a day-long snow and ice storm on Sunday leaving freezing temperatures to seal its icy grip on our region. We might see some melting today with sunshine and slightly higher temps. The sun is still deciding at the moment though. Perhaps if I am attentive to its morning show, the sun will rise triumphant for love of an audience.
Oh yes…weaving. It has me by the throat as they say. My rigid heddle loom is being warped and wefted with all handspun yarns. I have amassed a mountain of delicious skeins of handspun wool from various dyers and have even blended my own fibers for truly magical yarns with sparkle, color and exquisite texture. I know slobbering isn’t lady-like, so I have to catch my drool and close my mouth often as I’ve washed, hung to dry, and re-skeined miles and miles of this stuff we call yarn. Since the temperatures outside do not allow hanging the freshly washed skeins on the back deck, I’ve been hanging them inside, from the chandeliers in my dining and breakfast room areas. They remind me of carousels at a fair with their colorful hanks, some short, others long, dangling from the golden curls of light. The word “yarn” seems so plain and mundane, insufficient to describe the character-ful, color-ful, fluffy and magic-ful stuff we adore.
Weaving…ahem…yes I have been weaving with this carousel of colorful fluff! And what a joy it is to weave cloth. I do not feel the need for much embellishment as the yarns themselves carry so much of the “work”. I add bits here and there of my handspun art yarns – those scrumptious thick and thin trains of woolly locks, bits of ribbon and leftover snippets of yarn…oops, there I go again…
WEAVING… I must say that I’m finding I enjoy weaving cloth with handspun more than weaving tapestry with it. Weaving cloth, be it a scarf or a table runner or wall-hanging, allows the fibers to breathe. Whereas in tapestry all is squished in together, beating out the air surrounding it so that the image and structure will hold. Weaving cloth allows for air to circulate so the fibers can show off their frills. My third scarf in two weeks is now ready to weave and it looks so inviting as It sits there on the loom, bows all tied at the starting line.
The sun is now making its presence known in the neighborhood with larger blocks of golden light hitting the windows of neighbors houses, and the blurple streets now appear all white with gray ruts from tires attempting to get out. They remind me of warp threads on a loom, ready for a day’s weaving with magical yarn…who knows indeed what may come?
I’ve also been rearranging my website a bit. You might enjoy taking a gander at the About page, the Spinning Yarn, Weaving Cloth and Weaving Tapestry pages…simple and a bit more in keeping with what my creative world holds these days. The website is an ongoing work-in-progress, much like the maker behind it. 😄 I so appreciate your presence here and hope that you are well and truly ensconced in whatever creative magic you are dabbling in these days!
**Don’t you love to make up words? I do! “Blurple” might be one I’ve heard somewhere else before…just as so many made-up words seem to have existed somewhere else before I’ve thought of them…like they have their own secret dictionary or they are from a people and language we have yet to meet.💖