Weaverly

An Excellent Day

Sunday was one of those perfect days you wish would go on forever.

Cotton (that's his name, he's an Australian Shepherd getting on in years, but hasn't lost his fine herding skills. He'll herd anything or anyone) joined us in the morning for a family birthday party, and enjoyed romping in the stream. Here he is drying off.

We had chocolate birthday cake with breakfast. A good idea. Should do it more often.

Then in an attempt to balance the food pyramid, I started a big pot of vegetable soup, which stayed on the stove all day. Here are the veggies before they were chopped up and tossed into the pot with the marrow bones: carrots, potatoes, red kale, rutabaga, and leeks.

In the afternoon, weaver Mary Kircher stopped by for a visit. We talked looms and software, and she showed me her beautiful handmade journal, in which some of the pages are actual looms! It's a really brilliant idea. She will be doing a blog soon to feature her journaling techniques, and I'll share the link with you when that happens. 

After dinner the homefolks settled in for a movie orgy. First, a session from the linguistics course we are watching on DVD; then an episode of our current fave on Netflix, A Touch of Frost; and finally, just at 9, Downton Abbey. I wouldn't miss Downton for anything, even though I must say this last episode was a bit sappy.

End-of-Warp Tales

You've all been there—almost the end of the warp, but you know you can eke out a few more inches of weaving. All you need to leave at the end is enough space to insert a couple of lease sticks so you can tie on the new warp, but you don't want to waste any of that precious old warp.

So you weave a few more inches.

Trouble is, the end of the warp seems to grow, not shrink! So you weave that little bit again. And again.

Sometimes the little bits turn into the best thing you've done on that warp. A life lesson in there someplace.

Dreaming and Weaving

There are people who start off the breakfast table conversation with, "I had this dream last night...". X tells Y his dream while Y listens patiently with an attentive look on her face, and then Y tells X her dream, same look on X's face. Many of us do this. The dream is quickly evaporating and we can hold onto the shreds only by telling or writing down. This dream-telling is also a form of friendly communication: "I'm here, you're here, we are enjoying this moment."

Dream-telling is also a way of beginning a story or song. Remember the opening line of Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca?

Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again...

Or perhaps this English folk song, a sea shanty, there are many versions, but here is the version currently floating around in my head:

I dreamed a dream the other night
Lowlands, lowlands away my John
I dreamed a dream the other night
Lowlands, my lowlands away

I dreamed my love came standing by
Came standing close by my bedside

She’s drowning in the lowland sea
And never more coming home to me

The sea-green weed was in her hair
‘Twas then I knew there was no life left there

She lies there in the windy lowlands
She lies there in the windy lowlands

I dreamed a dream the other night

A dream can also be seen as a metaphor for a wish or a passionately held vision, as in the famous lines from Martin Luther King, Jr.'s 1963 speech at the Lincoln Memorial:

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

But sometimes a dream is just a dream, a rearranging and stitching together of all that stuff roiling around in the subconscious. Most of the time it's silly soup in the light of day, but occasionally insights bubble to the top and beg to be noted. So, my friends, I had a dream last night...

In my dream I was sitting at the loom and weaving, but at the same time I was sitting at the computer and designing a cloth. I was simultaneously typing and throwing a shuttle, the movements were somehow amalgamated. I was looking at the growing web, feeling its solidity and "clothness" but this cloth was the same as the pixels on the computer monitor. Not too hard to figure out! 

Here's a little graph to summarize what I mean. This is my dream-telling to you. Then you can go on and finish your breakfast.

 

The Geographers

Yesterday afternoon we took a break from our usual routine and attended the finals of the Geography Bee at B______ Elementary School. The kids were all poised and ready for the contest, and the excitement level in the school cafeteria/auditorium ran very high. I could hardly sit still myself. Here the principal and a teacher are giving last minute instructions to the nine finalists.

We were all holding our breath here.

Congratulations to the winner and the first runner-up.

End of the Tree

Surprisingly, after I finished the top section of the tree panel, there was still enough warp left for another piece, even allowing for warp to tie the next warp onto (yes, that's a preposition at the end of my sentence, and I'm sticking to it!).

So this is what I'm doing:

Another double plain weave piece, but this time I let out all the stops and violated my usual rule of designing double weave at half scale to allow for sufficient warps & wefts in both layers. There are many single pixels here, with the result that some areas have a curious color-and-weave effect instead of true double weave.

At first glance they look like super-long floats, but such is not the case. It's a well integrated cloth. Click to enlarge.

Branches, Bark

The trees are finished; they constitute the central section of this long panel. That's enough weaving for today.

 

Just outside the studio door, the bark on my favorite river birch changes daily. 

Of course I've got to try my hand at this game, too.

Drawing on an iPhone

The New Yorker cover I showed you this morning led me on a quest to see more of Jorge Colombo's work, much of which is created on an iPhone. Here's a short video of the motions involved in one such painting. And another video. These are really fun to watch. As my mate is always reminding me, It's not the wand, it's the magician.

There's an interesting short article about Colombo here, and it includes yet another video, this time of the creation of the current New Yorker cover.

If you enjoy drawing on your iPhone or iPad, you should check this guy out. He's a master. 

That Tree Again

It's ba-a-ack! Same tree file, slightly resized, and now part of a larger composition, all black & white. A different personality this time.

And speaking of trees, have you seen the most recent New Yorker cover? Artist credit: Jorge Colombo.

Black & White & Red & Yellow

Monday I unrolled some of the work that had been building up on the cloth beam and cut it off before beginning another piece. Most of it was samples & small works, possibly destined for book covers.

The design with the wheels is now being reworked as part of a wall hanging. The shapes were poked and prodded, and the weave structure is double plain weave again, but this time all in black & white. It's a whole different animal.

If the weather has you down, here's a little something to brighten your spirits. I shot it under the awning of a juice bar in Miami. Love the reds & yellows.

Home Again

Before I get back to work, I'd like to share some of my favorite Miami memories. Unlike the small pix I posted on the run, these are enlargeable if you click on them.