Weaverly

The Three Bears

There is an odd luxury in having more time to weave these days. I am trying to make the most of it. Obsessive sampling, for instance. 

After washing, the first shadow weave sample, at 12 epi, felt decidedly sleazy. I resleyed the warp to 15 epi, and it was stiff and unpleasant in my hand. The third sample, at 14 epi, was (surprise! surprise!) just right. 

For the curious, no, I don't have a 14 dent reed. I sleyed 2,1,2,1,1 in a 10 dent reed.

This darned spell checker doesn't like the words epi or sley. It tries to "correct" me every time. Weavers, arise!

The Fabric of Civilization

Fiber artists of any stripe, here's an excellent book on textile history. Virginia Postrel's new book will turn your old ideas about fabric and civilization down unexpected pathways. The Fabric of Civilization is divided into chapters loosely related to individual textile processes, such as spinning, weaving, and dyeing, and the author points out that textiles are the basis of our number systems, our banking, our commerce, and our science. This book is full of stories of individuals who innovated entire systems because of their sensitivity to textile processes. The author actually learned to spin and weave while writing the book, and her explanations and diagrams are spot on. Profusely illustrated with photos and diagrams, and contains a comprehensive bibliography. Highly recommended. It won't be out until November, but if you pre-order you'll get a special gift: Postrel's woven bookmarks for the first 50 people who pre-order! Full disclosure: I was given a copy of this book for reviewing purposes. 

Changing topics now. Kudzu. Here it is in my neighborhood. I have a friend whose cows eat kudzu. I also knew someone who harvested, retted, spun, and wove with kudzu. She made a vest. It was very scratchy and essentially unwearable. 

Back in the studio, I'm weaving samples of shadow weave with black silk (gifted) and natural wool/silk noil yarn from my stash (at least 40 years old). I haven't woven much shadow weave, but I find it fascinating. I invented an original draft for 8 shafts, then discovered the same draft in Marian Powell's 1976 book. Nothing original in weaving, it is said.

A big thank you to all the great folks who have been making this time of isolation bearable. 

Happy Birthday, Charlotte Brontë

Happy Birthday, Charlotte Brontë. You have given me so much pleasure over the years. I wish you had had an easier life.

This morning's walk was another of those springtime gifts.

Goats and sheep, oh my.

A brief glimpse into another world.

Back at home I am scanning woven samples. Now I hope I can match up the correct drafts with these. I am a woeful record keeper.

A little less taxing: making bias tape.

 

When It All Goes South

Yes, we weavers are all glad to have our weaving during these unusual times, but for goodness' sake, if we don't pay attention, it all goes south. The warp described in my previous post had to be abandoned (yes, trashed!) because at the last minute I lost the cross. If you've been there, you know what I'm talking about. It's a newbie's mistake, and after 50+ years of weaving, I ought to be over that, but I wasn't paying attention. :-(   and so on.

So what did I do? I put on my big girl's pants and made a new warp. Similar color. Yarns on hand. And I rattled & beamed it, and paying close attention, inserted the lease sticks in the cross, and threaded the heddles. Here's a view from the back of the loom.

Then I sleyed the reed (my spell-checker doesn't like that word!), lashed the whole mess to the cloth apron, and got the show on the road. 

A little testing of various weft colors...

...and of course making sure the floating selvedges are properly weighted (very high tech operation).

Finally some cloth! It's a jeans twill, with 20/2 cotton sett at 40 epi, weft the same. I wanted something close to plain weave for the lightest possible fabric, but with a little networked patterning thrown in, and I think I've got it. 

Those are not stripes you see—they are reed marks from the 3/3/4 sleying in a 12-dent reed. I expect them to come out in the wash. Mostly.

Checking the twill angle with a 45º triangle. Pretty close! Almost a balanced weave.

Deep breath. After lunch I will be going for a walk.

Warp Therapy

The light in my studio is such that the warping area has great morning light, but is lightless most other times. Consequently I like to do my warping first thing in the morning. 

There are 3 cones of almost finished 20/2 cotton hanging around, and they are crying out for use. I have an empty loom and a couple of projects in mind, but nothing definite. I love the process of winding a warp. I find it soothing on days when my mind is jangled. Like now. So I just started making a warp, and I'll let it tell me what it wants to be.

I'm holding 3 ends together and will pick the colors randomly when it's time for threading the heddles. 

The groups of 3 are used four groups at a time in the raddle cross, hence 12 ends per group. That will work out nicely if I choose to go 36 epi.  40 epi will be a little trickier. That's a decision for another day. Meanwhile I just keep winding until my inner compass tells me to stop.

My, that was fun! It's almost time for lunch. Here's the warp all chained.

I've bagged it with a label, and will put it aside for whenever. 312 ends, 4 1/2 yards. 

World Citizen Goes For Walk

A little loop has been added to my walk, and it's just perfect. This morning I saw exactly one pedestrian (from a distance!), one cyclist (ditto), and one automobile. The woods are leafy green, the birds raucous, the stream babbling, and my heart is lifted. This loop is 1.35 mile, and if I do it again this afternoon I will certainly surpass 10,000 steps.

Among the many charming houses I pass along the way is this little beauty, with its bold flag on the porch. Norwegian! After the current crisis is over I will certainly knock on the door and say hello. My ancestry is Eastern European, no Norwegian blood, but I frequently feel like an honorary Norwegian because of my love for Scandinavian weaving techniques. Then again I am an honorary Celt, because I'm crazy about Celtic folk music. I stream Thistle Radio while I am weaving. Go figure.

It's full dogwood season here, folks. I pause a minute and just drink it all in.

Back home, I show you a snapshot of the finished bias pullover. I take terrible selfies, so the official photo shoot will happen another time. In the background is a small part of our music collection. Bruce has decided it's time to alphabetize the CD's, a task that will keep him occupied for the foreseeable future.

Reboot

Our mayor has closed the Swamp Rabbit Trail within city limits. It doesn't appear to have affected folks out this way yet, but I still plan to avoid the Trail in the foreseeable future. Fortunately there is a nearby alternative. Little or no traffic so far.

And a bonus: there is a little stream to cross. You don't see it until you're nearly on top of it, and it announces its presence with the most delightful gurgling.

Back in the studio I've finished the major seams in the construction of my bias pullover. The hems are yet to be done. The neck with its bias binding came out pretty well. I love the way the random stripes conjoined. Totally hit-and-miss. 

Now I've got a naked loom. Must remedy that! Thinking about some new crepes. Variations on a single interrupted twill threading. Click to embiggen.

 

Fiddly Work

Here is my new best friend: electric shears. Why didn't I get these years ago? They make the cutting out so easy on the hands & kind to the joints.

I'm applying 1/2" strips of fusible interfacing to all the edges. It's fiddly work. Took a whole morning. 

Next step is to zigzag the edges. Maybe tomorrow. I'm going to read this afternoon.

A stack of yummy handwoven leftovers. Will have to cogitate over these for a bit.

Cut Off

The campus is off limits during the current crisis, but while on the Trail I can still see the lake through the trees. By next week, the woods will be so leafy that the lake will be obscured; for now, I can still enjoy it.

What's more uplifting than a gorgeous spring sky? 

The following is a little puzzling. I know there's a story here; I just can't tease it out. 

Back in the studio, I've come to the end of the warp. Here's a view in back of the loom.

Dum-de-dum! Trumpet fanfare! Cutting off! 

A puddle of cloth. Eight yards plus. It will go directly into the washing machine. 

And while the washing machine is doing its thing, I think I'll make some soup. Fifteen bean soup. I haven't counted. I'll take their word for it.

Bean stripes anyone?