Weaverly

Tying On a New Warp

Some of you have asked me about my process of tying a new warp to an old one. Tying on is quick and easy if you are maintaining the same threading. The following snapshots are presented in chronological order. If you pay attention to position (front of loom, back of loom) you won't have any trouble figuring this out. Notice particularly where the knots are. Ease the knots gently through reed and heddles. It's more of a massaging action, not a yanking!

 

These are samples for a larger project. There are three colors in the warp. In the second sample warp I substituted an orange yarn for the turquoise bouclé. I loved the bouclé, but the color wasn't right. I think the substitution of the orange was a good move. There is some iridescence going on, which was my goal.

Eight shafts.

Lines

Lines. Straight, curved, tangled, interlaced.

It's great to have company. We take long walks. Here we are at the Center for Sustainability. Broccoli.

Here's Erik helping to untangle some connections. It's a fiber experience, in a way.

A long ride up the mountain on an overcast day. The bare trees on the top of Caesar's Head. Straight lines.

And on the loom, a sample. Three warps. One weft. Eight shafts.

Sampling

Time for a new warp on the 8-shaft loom. I want to do a parallel threading with three colors. I haven't done this in a while, and I'm using yarns which are unfamiliar to me, so sampling is in order.

A narrow sample, about 4 1/2 inches.

Looking good. The bouclé yarn muddies the pattern a bit, but I love the texture of the cloth. This will be a tough decision.

Here's an awkward shot of the reverse side.

Meanwhile, more patterning out on the Trail. Frost on the grasses this morning, but rapidly dissipated.

Stripes galore. Taking care there are no cyclists around while I take a few snapshots.

In the book dept, recently read: The Group, by Mary McCarthy; News of the World, by Paulette Jiles; Ash Before Oak, by Jeremy Cooper. Can not spot a trend here.

An Anniversary

For my first post of 2020 I'm taking a look back, way back. I began this blog twelve years ago, and have been posting more or less regularly, sometimes daily, sometimes weekly, for all that time, during good times and bad. It's interesting to see that my first post mentions a walk around the Furman lake. Of course I never dreamed that I'd wind up at Furman in 2020! Curious.

My original intention was to record my impressions of my weaving life and other thoughts that drifted through my mind. In my blog I wanted to avoid politics and religion, because there were (and are) plenty of other places on the Web to engage with those topics, if one wanted to. I always found weaving the perfect tool to bring comfort in difficult times in my life. Once in the Zone, whether at the loom, the spinning wheel, the warping board (and later, when binding books), the troubles melted away or anyway stayed in deep background. I thought there would be other people out there who would like to read about my activities. And there were. Many of you. 

I knew that most of my readers were lurkers (awful word!) and read the posts and moved on. That's OK. I'm mostly a lurker myself on the Web. Occasionally someone would post a comment, and I would be notified of comments by an email alert from Typepad. Sometimes I replied, sometimes not. I always appreciated the comments. They were like a little hello across the planet. 

Now here's the funny part. Recently (maybe during the past year or so) there were no more comments, or so  I thought, because Typepad, for some reason, ceased sending me the email alerts. I never thought to check on the actual blog page. But a friend told me yesterday about all these comments, and when I went back to the posts, and there they were! Comments galore, and comments on the comments. And no reply from me. You can imagine my surprise and chagrin. Had I known about the comments, I'd have chimed in! I so appreciate the comments, and they tell me that I am not shouting out into the void, but actually communicating with live people. So thank you, thank you, to all of you who have taken the time to comment. 

About politics and religion. We are living in such perilous times, that continuing to drone on about this or that yarn or my latest favorite weave structure seems dishonest, as if that's all that's on my mind. Occasionally issues of how we relate to each other as human beings spill over into my weaving life, and I find I must share them with you. Yes, it's my blog, and I can say what I want, as long as it's not harmful to another person. You, in turn, can read or not read, as you choose, and comment or not comment. 

So I will continue to post about Weaving. Pixels. Life. for the foreseeable future. Thank you for reading. And keep those shuttles flying.

The Sublime and the Everyday

Last week we went to Columbia for a look at the current exhibition at the Columbia Museum of Art, "Van Gogh and His Inspirations." The exhibition was quite interesting, presenting a look at some of the artists who influenced van Gogh. There were a few of van Gogh's own paintings on display, including the wonderful "Weaver", on loan from the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. In my old studio I had a postcard of this painting tacked above my sewing table, and it was a thrill to see the original.

Yesterday on my walk, I saw the Blue Heron again, in a totally relaxed pose, strolling down the little stream which leads to Swan Lake. He seems to be fearless, and quite used to humans, unlike the Blue Heron I used to see occasionally in the stream beside my old house. 

Back in the studio, I am weaving the third piece on this striped warp. It's fun to find interesting weave drafts for straight draw on 16 shafts on handweaving.net and see how different they look woven up.

Here's a closeup. I expect it will be a lot more "nubbly" after it's washed.

Both Sides Now

There's enough woven so that I can easily see the reverse side...

...but I see a little more than I wanted. A weaving error. Such is life. As this piece is destined for further construction, perhaps the error can be hidden. I am hopeful.

I wish you joy in this winter season, and may all your sheds be clean and your shuttles glide smoothly in the new year.

My New Studio

Some of you have asked about my new studio. Here it is! Love & thanks to Bruce for the pictures.

Rainy Day Doings

First there is eight ounces of Corriedale fleece I spun over the last few months, and it is having a good wash in the bathroom sink.

Then there is a problematic project with differential of shrinkage. The skinny yarn is overseen cotton and it is supposed to shrink. But meanwhile it's behaving badly on the loom and is pretty much out of control. I may not be able to complete the scarf.

Finally here is a new piece on an old warp. It's a straight draw on 16 shafts, and lends itself to all sorts of weaves.

Going well.

What I Did On My Lunch Hour

Downtown Greenville SC today.

My new friend Larry gave me a ride. Thank you, Larry. 

Larry doesn't really have a little person growing out of the top of his head.

Where were the TV cameras? We were yelling as loud as we could.

Will it do any good? I hope so.

A Brown Palette

This is a season of browns, for some reason. I finished weaving the lengths for the poncho, hemstitched, cut off, and here are the fringes being twisted. It's now washed & hanging to dry. Then the lengths will be sewed together (minus the neck hole), and we will have another Clint Eastwood lookalike.

Last night's sunset was in the same palette. Good planning, or what?

This morning, walking around the lake. Plenty of browns, and that gorgeous blue sky. Above and below.

Out to lunch with the spinners on Friday. Carrot pancakes and spiced apples. Locally sourced. Yum! 

More wildlife around the lake. A parliament of fowls.

An early morning walk over the weekend. Stripes.

Someone left a bicycle mirror hanging on a tree in the woods. How can you not take a selfie?