Whorling Along: More Road Trip Show

I promised to show you my haul from down South, so here are these two beauties:

Both spindles are KCL spindles, made by Ken Ledbetter.  The top photo shows my baby, 30 grams of Maple whorl with Candy Pyolite inlay.  It has 3 interchangeable shafts, intended for plying, but I'm hoping to use it as a travelling sample spindle.  I can switch out shafts when I want to change fibres.

The bottom photo is a 24 gram spindle of Sycamore and Dyed Maple.  She is simple, but beautiful and spins well.  (Any KCL spindle I've tested spins well.)  Susan Z. has claimed her.

The spindles came from TempeYarn and Fiber, a lovely yarn store right next to the hotel where we spent our first night.  (Coincidence?  I think not.)  The owners and staff were very friendly.  I was there a few times and joined the local knitting group for a few minutes before heading out.  Along with the spindles, I bought some locally dyed silk roving, organic cotton, in prepared punis and bolls, plus 2 small balls of yarn for road trip knitting.  (I am unhappy with my handspun trip knitting and suspect it will be binned shortly.)

I also visited Jessica Knits in Scottsdale, AZ.  Again, everyone was welcoming.  I picked up a skein of locally hand dyed silk noil yarn, some sale needles and moisturizing products for knitters.  This shop didn't carry any spinning products, but carried Atenti and Lantern Moon Bags.  Somehow, I managed to resist those.

I was surprised at the amount of wool yarn in both stores.  The people At Tempe Yarn and Fiber told me that wool was their most popular fibre, even in the Arizona heat.  They do sell more cotton in the summer, but "wool is just so nice to knit with," it's always in demand.

I've spent the last two days recovering from travel time, submitting my Yoga Course Final Exam and catching up on local news.  Beginners' Spinning Class started last night and, with Susan's and Sharon's help, I muddled through, despite my fatigue-induced goofiness.  (Yup, that explains it. This time.) 

We had 3 brand new spinners, 1 refresher student and we hope to have two more newbies next week.  After suffering through all my spinning blah, blah, blah, we got everyone started with toy wheel top whorl spindles and some Romney roving which Sharon donated.  Everyone was spinning yarn within twenty minutes and, by the end of the two hour class, everyone had impressively consistent yarn. Everyone learned how to prop a spindle elegantly between their knees in order to Park and Draft.  They also discovered why they should wear blue jeans to class. 

I love teaching people to spin.  It's fun to watch as they learn how simple it is to make yarn and how interesting string can be.  I never stop my efforts to lure people into the art - I had Gwen, one of our housemates, spinning on a yo-yo spindle while we sat by the pool in Phoenix.  (She was too shy to pose for a picture, but her spinning was very nice - fine, consistent and evenly twisted.)  She resisted my offer of a spindle loan, but said she'd stop by the store when she was home to see what we were doing.

So, I'm back on the wheel, readjusting to daily routine after our mini-break.  Morris was delighted to see his Dad; Mickey was delighted to see me and Richard, the wonderful brother-in-law, was delighted to return home, minus squirrelly bull terrier and demanding twenty pound cat.

Life is good.  Namaste. 

Hot Town: Spinning in the City

We've had a tent revival of sorts around here in the last few weeks: there have been spinning demonstrations and classes all around the city.  Last week, a group of spinners, doglover and MuddyPawsKnits among them, demonstrated spinning at the Queen City Ex.  These volunteers generated a lot of interest in fibre arts, especially thanks to eleven year old Katie, doglover's niece.  Katie impressed everyone with her spinning skills.  There are pictures up on Ravelry, under the Regina Stitch and Bitch and the Golden Willow groups. (You can see the famous Jeremy, Susie's husband,  and his brilliant skein of yarn.)

I taught two workshops for the public library and both were full.  The second class was supposed to be the overflow from the first class's waiting list, but we managed to have more people in that class than in the original.  By last night, 22 people from those classes were new spinners and we hope to bring more into the light because of the women who helped out at the Ex.

My workshops were hectic.  I have only one photo of the first class:

I forgot to take photographs of the second class learning to spin.  The pictures here were taken last night, as the class practised plying:

And here they are, with their washed and whacked skeins.  They did very well:

The spinning and meditation classes begin next week.  So far, about fifteen people have expressed interest in attending one or more sessions, which amazes me (in a good way), considering that either practice alone is not that common here; doing both together could be seen as downright strange.  I'm looking forward to the sessions.

If you want to be among fellow spinners or get yourself started, this is the place to be.  Who says nothing ever happens here?!

Heat Wave!

It may not be hot enough to fry an egg on the pavement today, but I can assure you that it's hot enough to exhaust a dye pot.  This morning, I set out this pot of alpaca, hot water and vinegar, added some Greener Shades dyes and left the whole thing on the barbeque, sans any heat except the sun:

I had to use a pot holder to remove the lid; the dye liquid is clear and those bits of dyed fibre on the ground have been washed with soap and well rinsed, with no dye run off.  I might as well take advantage of the heat while I can.

While I was waiting on the pot, I finished my current Meditation Wrap.  This one is knitted from handspun alpaca which was plied with a commercial lace weight alpaca, then overdyed in the yarn.  The buttons were in my stash and I think they work well on this piece.  They resemble the movement of clock hands and remind me of changes and the passage of time:

Yes, I photographed the thing draped over the dye pot.  It's just too hot to even attempt a proper shoot.  (It's probably too hot to be knitting and finishing alpaca, but, oh well. . . .)

I seem to be stuck in a 123 meditation rhythm.  Every meditation wrap I've made lately has ended up being 48 inches long or 1.23 metres.  That seems to be the amount of yarn I can stand to spin and ply before I lose focus and move to something else.  Such short pieces call for some creative draping to make them wearable.

I didn't get any Tour de Fleece 2011 spinning done today, because I was also preparing for my workshops.  Then again, I tested every one of the 25 spindles I made, so I was spinning something.  This is the first box of spindles and fibre:

The rest of the spindles are waiting for the glue to dry before I pack them.  123 again: assemble, test, glue.  The spindles are crude, made from toy wheels and yoyo's, in which Mr. DD kindly drilled centre holes for me.  There is a shortage of quality wooden wheels around here and the spindles are rough and rather lighter in weight than I'd like.  Some sanding, oil or paint will personalize them, but I'll leave that up to my students.  If Peruvian spinners and other spinners around the globe can work with whittled sticks and wonky whorls, I'm sure my class will be able to coax yarn from these basic tools.

The day has been good, despite the heat.  I've accomplished much; perhaps I'll spend the evening with a cold drink, a good book and, ah yes, a spindle and a bit of fibre.

Namaste.

The Russians are Coming: Things of Great Beauty

I wandered into the LYS yesterday before my yoga class.  Somehow, this gorgeous spindle found its way into my bag:

It's a brass-tipped IST Russian spindle in purpleheart wood.  It's sitting on a Jim Leslie bowl I bought at Fibre Week 2011.  I'm spinning a cashmere and silk roving that Carole gave me last year.  Above the spindle are, left to right, a Jenkins spindle bowl and two lovely Tabachek bowls, my favourites.  All my efforts don't seem to have any effect on my acquisitive nature, at least as far as spinning tools are concerned.

Russian spindles are wonderful meditation tools.  They're not my favourite style of spindle and I don't use them much.  This means that I must give full attention to my spinning when I work with the Russians.  This one requires a careful finger flick just below the spindle top to get any spin at all.  It doesn't seem to like temporary cops. It behaves differently, depending upon which bowl I use.  When the spindle sits in the Tabacheks, I must keep it upright.  If I don't, the spindle either stops or flies out of the bowl.  I have to tilt the spindle slightly when I'm using the Jenkins.  The spindle will not stay in the Jim Leslie bowl, which has an ebony centre, unless the Russian is tilted at a +45 degree angle towards my body.  I'm not used to using a support spindle at such an angle, but it's proving to be surprisingly comfortable when I sit on the floor and draft the fibres. 

Spinning moves in meditative flow: my left hand draws back with a gentle touch.  Too much pressure and the fibres lock up, impeding my progress. There is no grasping here.  I can only guide the roving on its journey.  If I lose my focus, the yarn becomes too thin. My right hand seeks the perfect spot on the spindle shaft, twirling the spindle in search of the correct amount twist to hold the fresh yarn together, then adding more twist to finish without snapping the string.  Back and forth I go, drafting, twisting, winding on to build the perfect cop which keeps everything in balance. 

I have no plans for the yarn.  It's part of my resolution to use stash fibres in the Tour de Fleece 2011.

Then there's this stuff:

I'm spinning this for the Tour de Fleece and I'm using long draw, but that's where similarities between this and the spindle fibre end.  This fibre is ages old, a linen/silk mix intended for blending.  I decided to use it as is, for one ply of a future art yarn.  I have to pay attention here, too.  If I switch drafting techniques, the fibre sticks and spinning comes to a halt or the yarn snaps.  Using long draw produces a lot of texture which will work for an art yarn, provided I've inserted sufficient twist.  The jury is still out on that.

Mickey watches over all, from his perch on the kitchen table:

No, he shouldn't be there, but he's old and has always been stubborn.  He is what he is and does what he does.  His nickname isn't "Buddha" for nothing.



Finding Balance

I love to walk.  Nothing calms me more than a long tromp.  Walking just to walk clears my head and has guided me through more than one emotional wrestling match.  I love to feel wind, rain, snow, sun against my skin.  I walk briskly, sure of myself, my footing.

Right now, it pays to proceed more mindfully.  I can be tearing along on dry pavement when the ground shifts from bare concrete to this:

Suddenly, dry land vanishes in a pack of ice and I move from grounded confidence to picking my way, one foot in front of the other.

In Tadasana/Mountain Pose, you ground your body, both feet planted firmly, toes spread widely, bringing strength and energy up the legs along the spine to the crown of your head.  You stand, lower body solid, upper body held lightly, lifting to the sky.  In Tadasana, you find balance and then you practise balancing, at first just standing to find stillness, then by carefully placing one foot in front of the other, seeking to remain balanced in the shift.  In a few moments, you move that forward foot behind and seek balance again.  The more you practise, the more you improve balance and focus.

I stand in Tadasana while spindle spinning and I slow my pace.  I roll my spindle along my thigh gently and release it quietly, so that energy is directed into the yarn, rather than into correcting the wobble sometimes caused by too aggressive a spin.  I spin cross-legged on the floor; I am grounded.  I sit in a firm chair at the wheel and my spine lifts, bringing energy into the body up into the crown of my head.  I am uplifted.

My spindle challenge progresses, although I'm having a tough time resisting the call of my other lonely spindles, especially this one:

It's a Bosworth Moosie, complete with a pink-tinged mouse nibble and a bloodwood shaft bought in a destash from a friend, along with another laceweight Bossie which needed a new home.  It's difficult to get a good photograph-the light bounces off the antler whorl.  Trust me, it's a beauty.

Indulgence

Indulge:  yield freely; take pleasure freely
Indulgence:  privilege granted
                                                      (Concise OED)

Speaking of indulgences:

I ran into friends at Chapters yesterday, who pointed out this little kit, a steal at $2.  It's an indulgence, completely frivolous.  It made me smile.  So, home it came with me.

This is my selection for my April spinning challenge:

Isn't she pretty?  She's a top whorl "Deluxe" by Edward Tabachek, in Bird's Eye Maple with a Purpleheart shaft.  She weighs 44 grams.  Of all my spindles, she spun everything I tested-banana, cotton, qiviuq-as finely as I needed.  Her weight allows me to spin a range of yarns, including bulky and designer creations.

You can browse Ed's site at http://www.mts.net/~tabachek/  I've been buying spindles from Ed since he began making them.  Each spindle spins beautifully and brings me joy.  So do Ed and his wife, Joanne, who tests every spindle.  Ed's spindles can be a bit difficult to find these days, so I treasure mine.

I have a basket of stash fibres ready to go.  I'm not stuck on any particular yarn or fibre, but that bag of qiviuq/silk I blended in 1991 has probably mellowed long enough.  I haven't spun possum or banana; I have samples of both.  I have some lovely batts blended by Sharon at Golden Willow Natural Fiber.  They're calling out to become designer yarns.  It's a start.

Any self-imposed challenge deserves a rule exception or two.  After all, I don't want to become attached to non-attachment!  This is my meditation spindle:

I'll continue to use it for formal sitting meditation.  I'll also have to break my rule in spinning class, since we're moving to wheels this week.  At home and around, exploring the possibilities of one spindle will be the theme.

This is Morris on his walk down the lane yesterday:

He was sniffing for gophers.  Moments after this, we heard a squeak.  Morris was right-there are a few hardy critters out and about. 

Notice all the snow.  At this time last year, there wasn't a bit of snow to be found.  The ice was gone from Wascana Creek and the ducks were paddling around the shoreline.  Yesterday, this was the view across the park to the creek:

Attachment

I have a whack of spindles (and a few spinning wheels).  They're all over the place--in my fibre room, around the house, in bags, baskets, at work.  I can justify spindle ownership easily-they're useful, beautiful tools.  Spindles hold memories, of conferences we attended, spinning circles we enjoyed, people that we met.  I use spindles for teaching purposes.  No one in my household has ever gone hungry or cold because of my spindle purchases.  (I could argue the opposite-spindles and teaching people to spin has provided me with a source of income for many years.)  Practising what gives us and others joy can only bring good to the world.

And yet.  While I was dusting and sorting through my spindle stash-and it's never a good sign when I feel the urge to tidy-I came across one of the first spindles I used.  It's a heavy spindle, crafted by an unknown maker.  It didn't spin well thirty years ago and it doesn't spin much better for me now.

And yet.  Rediscovering this spindle took me back to a time when all spinning discoveries were new, to a time when owning just one spindle gave me endless possibilities.  Now I own many spindles and while I use most of them, finding new challenges has become more difficult.  This isn't because the challenges aren't there; rather, it's because I've become attached to my spindles, to my fibre stash, to my way of spinning.

Buddhism teaches us that the source of suffering is attachment.  If we learn to let go of our habits, our constant want, while practising compassion for all things, we will be released from suffering.  I believe that a little attachment isn't such a bad thing, suffering or not.  We have to live in this world.  A degree of attachment to our bodies, to our families, to our communities encourages us to care for ourselves and others.  Attachment can help us develop compassion. 

Attachment is harmful when it blocks our path and becomes a distraction away from what is happening now.

That's where I am with my spindle collection.  I have so many that I'm distracted by the effort of choosing the right spindle to use with a particular fibre.  There are bits of yarn on that spindle, some tucked away over there, underneath a pile of fleece, projects that have been parked on spindles for years.  I have multiple bobbin yarn ends from spinning on my wheels.  I'm overwhelmed and suffering from a serious case of attachment.

I've cleaned out my spindles.  I sold a few, set some aside for an upcoming silent auction, gave several to students and friends.  I've taken myself off spindle waiting lists.  (Well, not the wait list for a Bosworth "Moosie."  Non-attachment only goes so far.)

To break the attachment cycle, I've set myself a challenge.  All through April, I will spin using only one spindle from my stash, using fibres from my stash.  (That includes the banana fibre sent by a fellow Raveller yesterday.  Hey, it's not April yet!)  Since I've been foolish enough to announce this publicly, in several places, I'll have to follow through.  I hope.

This could be interesting.  I've spent the last two weeks trying to pick the perfect challenge spindle.  I haven't found one yet.  If I'm discovered under a pile of fleece and spindles, muttering "Not this, not this," you'll know what happened.

Yup, attachment.