Summertime: A Brief History

I've been practising rewinding bobbins, at Doglover's suggestion.

50 grams spun of the luscious, Easy to Spin Hand Painted Sea Island Cotton, purchased from Celeigh Wool during Olds Fibre Week 2012:

And 50 grams more to spin:

When I've spun enough for the day, there's always reading to be enjoyed:

On rainy days, I stay indoors, catching up with my dvd collection:

Mabel Ross was utterly charming.  I would have loved a class from her.

Namaste.

(DaigleD, if you're out there, please contact me!)

Something in the Air

The last few days, our city has been blanketed with a haze of wood smoke.  For many of us, the smoke combined with heat and humidity makes it difficult to enjoy the outdoors. We wait for the winds to blow the smoke elsewhere and restore fresh summer air.

I live on the prairies, nowhere near a forest.  (The imaginatively named "Sherwood Forest" lies just outside of town, but would only confuse any lumberjack who strayed there.)  This smoke came in from forest fires in northern Alberta, a thousand or so kilometres away. News reports tell us that far away Vancouver is suffering from smoke arising from fires in Siberia and that some US states are affected by the Canadian fires.

Recently, the Harper government gutted, or "streamlined," to hear his politicians tell it, environmental impact assessment reviews. Among other things, new laws limit review submissions to those from people who will be directly affected by a given project.  Its definition of "direct effect" seems to mean that you'll have to be living right beside that pipeline in order for your voice to be heard.  You must also not be a "radical."  Or a scientist who works for or is connected to government or its funded agencies.  Or anyone who might caution that pumping oil, bitumen, whatever fuel, through and around fragile lands to load onto ships which will sail across oceans to foreign lands, may not be the best solution to our fuel consumption problems.

A bit biased, am I?  You're absolutely right.  You see, all I have to do is walk outside and try to catch my breath in that smoke from distant fires.  Or read about the debris drifting from the 2011 earthquake in Japan and wonder what else may have drifted over from their nuclear meltdown.  Or remember that I was pregnant when the Chernobyl nuclear disaster occurred and how worried we were about drift from that event.  The truth is, we live on one beautiful planet.  What happens in one place affects us all.

What does this have to do with yoga?  Yoga means "yoke/union," and not just of Mind/Body/Spirit of an individual being.  We are linked to one another and to this Earth.  If you believe, as I do, that the body is not simply a part of this planet, this universe, that we are the Earth itself, then it just may be in our best interests to be skeptical about current claims that pipeline projects and the like can be done swiftly and safely, with fast-track approval. (Even if you don't share the same view, Google "Enbridge," "BP Oil," "Exxon Valdez" and "spill," if you want just a taste of what can go wrong.)

Sooner or later, that oil, that nuclear fuel, that "stuff" we demand unceasingly will end up flowing through us, with consequences we can't afford or be able to ignore.  My proof?  Go outside. Breathe.  That smell, whatever it may be?  Mother Nature is doing her best to warn us.

Namaste.

Good Enough

Washing and blocking finished pieces works wonders.  After an overnight soak, a severe pinning out and two days of drying, my little woven sampler was much improved.  When I compare it to an earlier weaving I'd done in Terri Carefoot's class, I can see that my beat is more consistent in the latest swatch, which evens out the fabric.  The stripes are straighter. The draw-in was just under 1/2 inch, which is too much, but less than in my first pieces. (The finished size after blocking was 9/9.25 inches x 15.5 inches.)

Here's the weaving after blocking.  This is the side away from the weaver:

Here it is, beside the sampler I wove several years back:

I'm a process person; finished tapestries usually end up in my closet, to be hauled out for teaching purposes.  Most of them aren't good enough to be given as gifts, so I've acquired quite a stack of "samples." Sometimes, I wish that I could do the weaving without ending up with a product.  If I can make something practical, I tend to use it more.  

In many cultures, it's traditional to make bags from your practice pieces. These bags often hold your tools, your combs, your needles, perhaps a spindle.  Rather than toss this work into the closet, I decided to turn it into a small bag:

I played with various trims and finishes.   I bound I-cord to the seams.  I added pompoms, buttons and beads. Nothing looked quite right.  In the end, I decided that a simple piece should remain just that, so I sewed a bit of hand-braided trim to the edges and added a felted button I'd made years ago.  

Nothing innovative, nothing fancy, just a plain little sack to carry some lovely tools:

Namaste.

The Weaver's Path: Finishing Off

As you near the end of a continuous warp weaving, things change:

The shed sticks become progressively thinner, until you remove them all together.  You lay aside your large comb:

You move to smaller tools:

Mickey stands guard (yes, he really is that big-all 20 pounds of him):

That small line to the right?  That's the Weaver's Path.  Depending upon your tradition, it's there to allow the bad spirits to escape or to provide a path to the next weaving:

You weave warp by warp, until you are certain you can't pack in another row.  Then, you weave in several more rows:

When the work is finished, you release the tension on the loom to let the weaving relax before you cut it from the frame.  While you're waiting, you chill a bottle of wine for the traditional cutting off ceremony.  You remove the cords, tidy the weaving and inspect the work.  That thing which appeared large during the process now seems rather small (9.5 inches at bottom/9 inches at top x 15.5 inches before finishing):

The weaving will spend the night soaking in a warm, soapy bath before I block it.  I may have a soak myself.

Namaste.

Everything: Going Away and Starting Anew

The boys are out at the farm. I'm at home with Mickey, enjoying the sunshine, the sounds of birds chirping, children playing outside, the stillness of my fibre room.

Olds Fibre Week always makes me reflect on where I am and the direction I would like to go.  One thing which called to me at Olds was weaving.  I've been away from my looms for over two years now.  I had been working on a tapestry when I was hit with a major life crisis and I didn't have the heart to pick up where I left off after life settled.

Until now.  A few weeks ago, my cobbled together Navaho-style loom came home, after spending several years in a dark basement.  It sat on my front step for another two weeks, while the sun, wind and rain cleaned away the inevitable grime that results from storage.  Once it was inside, I had choices to make: should I cut off the work that I had left behind or should I finish what I'd started?

I knew that, if I discarded the weaving, the loom would go with it.  Perhaps I'd never return to the tapestry weaving I'd once found so calming.  I'd warped the piece as a study of stripes.  There was no plan to the weaving, colour placement or design-stripes are difficult to weave consistently and I had needed the practice. Before I tossed the lot, I had to know if I could still find peace in the steady beat of comb against weft, packing into warp.

I began again:

The weaving had stopped at the second to last (from the top) deep blue stripe.  You can see that the stripes aren't level.  There are broken warp threads pinned back in place.  That random rectangle in the middle is woven in double weft interlock, because I forgot how to weave single interlock.  What began as a 9.5 inch wide sampler narrowed to 9 inches, then 8.75.  (Note to non-tapestry weavers: this is disgraceful.  The goal is to maintain your weaving width.  Narrowing one quarter inch over the length of this piece might be considered acceptable.  Narrowing 3/4 of an inch is not.) You can see the inconsistencies clearly in black and white:

It didn't matter.  Once I re-established my rhythm, once the comb was in my hand and I remembered Terri's advice never to put it down, sitting at the loom began to feel "right."  I felt James K.'s watchful eye over my shoulder, as he whispered encouragement from wherever he may be, now that he's left the planet. As I sat, working out solutions for uneven tension, fuzzy warp thread and an unsteady beat, Mickey kept watch over it all:

After finishing one pot of green tea 

and one Ben Howard cd later (Every Kingdom.  Go buy it.), I was here:

There are still many flaws that even washing and a severe blocking won't cure.  

No matter.  I'm home.

Namaste.

Just Like Starting Over: More Thoughts From Olds Fibre Week 2012

Yesterday was a quiet day of reflection.  I unpacked, did a bit of housecleaning, laundry, sorted things back into the fibre room and thought about the classes I had taught, as well as one I audited for a few hours.  I haven't seen any evaluations from participants in my classes yet, although I've received a few emails about the Yoga for Spinners sessions, so I wanted to post my thoughts before I read what others have said.

"My" spinning corner in the townhouse.

Yoga for Spinners was well-received.  People enjoyed the sessions and learned a trick or two about keeping themselves safe and comfortable while spinning or doing other fibre work.  Apparently, the shoulder adjustments I gave were worth the price of admission to most people.  (You can't do these yourself.  This is unfortunate because I really, really need one and the yoga studio is closed until tomorrow.)

Word got around that yoga may not be what people think it is.  I need to work on descriptions and promotion for these courses, so that people understand that there are simple, effective ways to adjust your posture in order to spin without compromising your comfort and health and without bending yourself into a pretzel.

In hindsight, I probably asked too much of my Spinning as Meditation Practice participants.  They were models of patience and grace under pressure, doing all of the strange things I asked of them.  It is remarkable that they stayed for the day; not one jumped ship.  (It wouldn't have been the first time that happened.)  A full day meditation workshop of any kind can be exhausting for someone who has experience with meditation, let alone for someone with none.  I've taught this course as a full day workshop, a four week course and a half-day workshop.  My inclination is to remove the full day course and  stay with weekly sessions (at home) or a two or three hour class.  I look forward to comments from participants.

If you ever want to experience incredible teaching moments, be sure to take a class, any class, from Jen Black.  Jen has her Master Spinning Certificate from Olds College.  She's taught some of the levels for the course, but as someone remarked, she really came alive in her class which was the aptly titled, "Spinning For Fun."  Jen took things she learned from her studies and demonstrated that achieving spinning excellence can and should be fun.  Her class learned to spin everything from alpaca to cotton to yak.  Her students discovered that anyone who says, "You can't do that!"  is probably mistaken.  I would be happy to follow Jen around her classes, just to soak up a bit of her wealth of knowledge and her teaching skills.

Jen's in-depth certificate study was on spinning cotton and she knows a thing or two about cellulose fibres, including how to grow a boll-producing cotton plant in sunny Edmonton.  I'm intrigued with cotton at the moment, but I know that I can spin it much better than I do.  Jen had some advice for me.  

The small, light brown piece of yarn at the bottom is my original yarn.  The skein at the top is the same yarn after I had re-plied, washed and boiled the yarn under Jen's tutelage!  Amazing, isn't it?

Sometimes, working at staying in Beginner's Mind has its benefits.

Namaste.

Home Again: Postcards From Olds Fibre Week 2012

We arrived back home from Fibre Week 2012, safe, sound, a bit weary, but happy.  Olds College is a beautiful campus, full of flower beds and foliage.  It stays light there very late this time of year.  This is the view from our townhouse door between 10:00 p.m. to 10:30 p.m. (really):

 First timers, Hilary and Susie, had a great conference. Susie loved her wool judging class; so much so that she volunteered to help with the Fleece Show and Auction.  I'm thinking that her husband may want to be checking for woolly creatures in the backyard.  Hilary took the Beginning Weaving course with teacher par excellence, Linda W.  For her first 4 shaft loom project, Hilary wove a lace dish towel.  This is Hilary, winding bobbins:

This is her gorgeous towel:

This is Gretchen, their charming room mate.  Gretchen's smock is her own design.  It tempted me to take up sewing again (even though I'm allergic to sewing); we've planned a pattern swap:

Everyone was very, very busy.  Judi D., the Volunteer Coordinator, who drives from Calgary every year, just to help out, is a wonder of organizational skills and diplomacy.  It's always a pleasure visiting with her.  Donna F., Kathy P. and other spinners whose names I don't remember, did a bang up job with the Silent Auction, which raises money for Fibre Week. Birgit R., one of my room mates, instructs the Master Spinners Level 3 and 4:

Here you see some Master Spinners programme participants hard at work.  Sue, at right, brought me beautiful brown cotton bolls, as a Random Act of Kindness.  A few of the bolls went to Jen B.'s Spinning For Fun class (not many, because I am not as kind as Sue).

Ruth B., at left, in blue and white, advises Level 1 students:

I'm in serious destashing mode, so I made an effort not to buy very much; however, a lovely BFL fleece from a sheep named Elvis, owned by Linda W. (another Linda W.), found its way home with me, as did a bit of Merino/cashmere/silk from Fibres West and this lovely spindle-the only one I purchased-from Twist of Fate and made by Erynn's dad:  (The spindle bowl is from Heather E.  It joins the yarn bowls I bought from her last year.)

There was fibre, string, string and more string.  Birgit's class reeled silk cocoons.  Students dyed hand spun flax:

So many people give generously of their time and effort to help make Fibre Week the success it always is.  Once I've collected my thoughts, I'll post more about the workshops I taught and observed.  For now, I'll leave you with this image, one of the spectacular poppies from the bed I look for every year:

Namaste.