Laws Of Weaving

Day 162: This photo is illustrative of one of Crow's Elementary Laws of Weaving. Can you tell what that might be? Simply, it states that whatever your next planned project requires is inversely proportional to its availability. In other words, two-thirds of the threads I have on order are out of stock, the most critical absence being the natural colour I need for the warp of a summer-and-winter weave lap throw. Now admittedly, there's enough fiber here to keep any weaver occupied for several months, and I'm sure many would envy the selection I have at my fingertips, but I am reluctant to put an interim project on the floor loom for several reasons. The first is subject to another factor in weaving: the smaller the project, the greater the waste by percentage. I allow roughly two yards of waste when measuring warp for the floor loom, four feet for the table loom. This is why I usually warp for long-term projects on either. The second factor is personal: I tend to get bored with interim projects easily, and therefore they hang on the loom for longer periods of time than projects I'm inspired to do (like the pending summer-and-winter). This said, I still have two towels to weave on the current warp, so I guess I'll ration my time at the loom while I wait for the supplier to receive their next shipment.

Rugs In The Raw

Day 88: With my last project fresh off the loom, I was anxious to get started on another one, but when I dove into my weaving supplies, I discovered that I was short on cotton warp by about half. I contacted my supplier to order more, and was delightfully surprised when they shipped it to me with two-day delivery at no extra cost. One craftsperson to another, I'm sure they understood my desire to get started right away.

Setting up a loom to weave is a multi-phase endeavour, beginning with selecting a pattern and determining the number of ends (threads) and length of warp required. When you are making small projects, it is more economic to warp for several items at once, otherwise there is too much wastage. I decided I wanted to make five rugs approximately 22" x 30", so I measured off six yards of warp per 288 ends to be sleyed at 12 dents per inch. Once the warp was measured out, I removed it from the warping board and "chained" it over my hands to prevent tangles. The next step will be mounting it on the loom. Small bundles of warp will be weighted so they can be evenly wound onto the back beam, and when that is done, each end will be brought first through the eye of a heddle and then through a slot in the reed. The heddles must be threaded in the sequence specified by the draw-down (pattern) in order to create a design. I will be using traditional birdseye in this case. Once threaded through heddles and reed, the warp bundles will be tied to the cloth beam and the actual weaving may be begun.

Weaving itself is a repetitive and rhythmic action. The shuttle flies back and forth as the weaver's feet dance on the treadles which raise and lower the heddles in their harnesses. The clatter of the loom is a soothing sound, metal heddles rustling, wood clapping against wood, the shuttle whisking through the opened shed of fibers. It is easy to get lost in the harmonies of weaving, easy to lose sight of time and cares. The loom is an instrument, and the weaver a musician, playing a score of cloth into existence beneath gifted hands. These are not rugs I weave; they are the songs of fibers set in motion by the magical loom.