Its been long time coming.
Actually the desire to weave is even longer than that of to spin.
If I look
old photos of the big yearly craft fair I always find a bunch on which I am
standing there with an open mouth staring of a weaving loom, or frame.
The truth
is, that since my early childhood I am fascinated by textiles and clothing.
Most probably I inherited it with my genes, as I have textile crafters in both
sides of my family tree in every level as far as I can see. Not only that I
handed some of it down to my boy, who is also fascinated by weaving looms, I’ve
never seen him sitting as long in one place when he did this.
This and
that (like knitting, sewing, and the unavailability
of a weaving loom) steered me away, but the wish was always there.
Last year I
almost went, but some organizing mishap happened, and at the last moment my
place was cancelled. I was unreasonably angry, and interestingly even more
unreasonably hurt, but I tried to tell myself, that the universe wants to tell
me something, so I probably shouldn’t push it…
But…
This year, I was making sure to be there. I went
really prepared, I figured out what I want to weave, how I want to do it, and
with what material
According
to this plan I dyed up some 200-250 grams of wool, which is most probably
alpaca. (Don’t ask. I am not that organized when it comes to storage. The bag,
which had the fiber, had no label. But the feel, the touch of the fiber, its
silkiness, how it behaved while and after dying, how it took (or did not take)
up the dye, the way it spun up, all had the characteristics of the alpaca
fibers.
Then I spun
it up, to about 1200 meters of two ply, with kind of a long draw.
Then the
day before I went spinning I wondered out and checked the looms, the warps and
selected which one I want to weave with.
And next
day we were standing there with my friend, anxiously awaiting the day to start.
And when it
did, when it did.
I’ve tried
to describe the experience, but it is so hard to put it into words. It was
mystical. The way the warp and the weft crossed. The movements. The colors. The
rhythm. The everything.
Previously
I was afraid I will find it boring (yeah, like I get bored of knitting or
spinning), but no, not at al. With the movements of my body, my mind relaxed,
and I could let go of things and thoughts.
I enjoyed
how the yarn worked up. Of course it was largely because of the handdyed,
handspun yarn, with its odd spots of colors, its slight unevenness, and the way
one color gave way to the next. I was happy that I was adamant and reloaded the
spools, so the colors followed each other in the right order. The weaving
itself is rather simple, and the edges have a lot of way to improve…
Even so I
think it is not bad for a first attempt.
I have to say thanks to Zsóka Sáringer and Angela Csapó for this miracle.
And now let
me go and search for a suitable and affordable weaving loom.
