It came off the loom yesterday afternoon. I then spent two hours on the upstairs deck in the bright light repairing problems. I knew the learning curve on this first project was going to be steep. Now, looking back, I can’t believe the mistakes that got past me just last week. From now on I’ll be repairing problems as soon as I spot them so I can correct my actions and prevent them from happening in the first place.
After it was all fixed, I realized that I hadn’t taken any pictures of the process. I snapped one shot of the fabric all folded up and ready to ship.
Doesn’t look like much, does it? Well, after it’s been washed and made into garments, it’ll be much more impressive, I’m sure.
And now, a little musing on the meaning of all this in my life...
Ever since I can remember, I’ve made the most of what I had. Growing up, we didn’t have much money. I don’t think we were “poor”, but nobody thinks that, do they? There’s always someone else who’s worse off. I did, however, get used to making due with whatever we had. Most of my clothes were hand-me-downs from my dad or my uncles. Buying new stuff was never the first option we explored.
Well, I think that made a lasting impression. All my life I’ve made the most of whatever circumstance I’ve found myself in. I never really sat down and said, “If I could create a life from scratch, what would it look like?”
I first played with weaving at about age 7. My grandmother bought me a little tabletop potholder weaving kit. You know, the kind where you put t-shirt loops on a frame and use a hook to pull other loops through them? I moved rapidly from plain weave to 2/2 twill. I would sit for HOURS and weave this way. When I recently asked Grandma about it, she said, “We just got it to keep you busy. It would occupy you all day.”
I remember another incident involving finger-knitting. My great-grandma taught me to knit tubes by looping yarn around my fingers. At some point, someone gave me skein of fuchsia acrylic yarn. I obsessively finger-knitted the entire skein into a skinny lacy tube. Then I finger-knitted that, ending up with a hefty bright purple rope. It became my favorite toy for a while. My dad put an end to it when he caught me lowering one of my younger brothers down the stairs in a cardboard box, using my pretty rope for leverage. Kids don’t really think things through, you see...
Fast forward 20 years. A friend taught me how to knit as a visitor to a spiritual retreat center. He had learned from his Danish grandmother. I was losing another good friend from AIDS and needed something to occupy my mind. My love of fiber and obsessive fibercraft came flooding back to me. Six months later I was moving to that retreat center with a van loaded with fibercraft supplies and a vague idea that I could make some money at it. I was wrong. A successful fibercraft business takes more than “a vague idea.” Sure, I made some beautiful things and a little money, but not even enough to sustain itself.
I moved back to the city, settled down and learned how to run a business from Glenn, the owner of Ancient Ways. I then joined a friend’s landscaping business for a few years. And last Spring I made the choice to leave that and strike out on my own.
At the prompting of Carl, my best friend, I decided to figure out what I want to do with my life, separate from the circumstances that happen into my path. “Near enough to my self-made cage that I can grab at them,” as Carl colorfully put it.
And that’s what this one piece of cloth represents. I’ve done it. For the first time in my life I set out with a ludicrously lofty goal of doing what I truly want - supporting myself with my craftwork. I analyzed my options and made a series of difficult decisions based on the end result I wanted to achieve. I interviewed professional weavers and decided on the perfect loom for my needs. I moved heaven and earth to get it. I set it up and learned how to use it. I searched high and low for someone who needed an entry-level production weaver, and got myself a well-paying contract that depends on this one specific piece of equipment.
And today, the first fruits of this labor went into the mail to be delivered. It’s actually happening, and in perfect alignment with my desires. Eventually I’ll start my own line of handwoven goods and market them myself. For the time being, however, I feel blessed just to be making a living from the craft of my hands.
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