Hexed

Day 143: I'm going to put a hex on tablet weaving! After a less than successful attempt to make my own hexagonal cards (or rather, to put holes in the corners), I decided I was going to have to buy them. The problem was that the only ones I could find were either wooden (too thick), expensive or would ship from Lithuania. I was complaining about the situation to Ed, my weaving friend, and he responded almost immediately. "What about these?" Well, what do you know? An Etsy seller had restocked the ones I'd seen another weaver using, and was offering two different designs. As much as I liked the brighter geometrics, the Victorian flower designs on these convinced me to go with the pastels. There aren't many patterns out there for six-sided card weaving, but I have one of bees which is very cute. As if I wasn't already up to my eyeballs in weaving projects! But it's something new to learn, and that's always exciting.

Loom Types

Day 112: Gosh, here I am, rambling on about heddles and sheds, and I haven't shown you the most important part: the looms themselves! And forgive me, I had finished assembling the collage before realizing that I'd left out backstrap, so you'll just have to imagine a simple warp attached to a hook on one end and my waist on the other.

When I'm ready to engage in a serious weaving project which requires a long warp and a time commitment of several weeks or even months, I set it up on my four-foot floor loom (top left). This beast occupies the better part of my crafts room which, despite the name, is not a room where I do crafts, but rather the space in which all my supplies are kept. A floor loom needs a home of its own. It's not the type of thing you put in your living room for several reasons. One, it won't leave much room for guests and two, the act of weaving generates an uncommon amount of lint as the fibers rub against each other and against the parts of the loom. If you are thinking about getting a floor loom, you might want to ask yourself what it would be like to have a St. Bernard in the house. Right. Moving on, then.

A far more reasonable consideration for the casual hobbyist weaver would be a table loom. The distinction between it and a floor loom is somewhat loosely defined because many table looms can be mounted on floor stands, and kits are available for some to convert from jack operation (hand levers) to treadles, essentially turning the "table" model into a floor loom. Better to think of it as a matter of size. A table loom fits on a table. A floor loom does not. My table loom is shown center bottom, currently unwarped because I have a project on the floor loom. You can see the jack levers at the center top, two up and two down.

Rigid heddle looms (left and right bottom) are very portable and a good place for a novice weaver to begin. They are built to be used on a table-top, but can also be mounted in a floor stand. Table space being at something of a premium around here, both of mine are on stands. Although the one on the left is being used in the customary fashion while I weave a scarf, the one on the right holds a tablet-weaving project, its warps weighted with water-filled Gatorade bottles (the same warp-stretching method I use to warp my floor and table looms by myself). A major difference between standard weaving looms and rigid-heddle looms is in the heddles. Metal straps, wires or strings are used to hold the warp threads in sequence on a standard loom. These heddles slide along bars in the harness frame, permitting the weaver to use almost any size thread which will pass through the eye. On the other hand, a rigid heddle is exactly that: rigid, i.e., a piece of plastic with a set number of eyes and slots per inch. To change the number of threads per inch, the weaver has to swap out one rigid heddle for another of a different size. However, when using a floor/table loom, the number of threads per inch is determined by the reed, a slotted metal guide which is held in the beater bar. Weaver argot for this is "dents per inch," i.e., the number of slots in an inch of reed. It is important to note here that sometimes more than one warp thread is drawn through each dent. For example, I once wove a linen piece at 45 threads per inch, but since my finest reed was a 15-dent reed, each dent carried three warp threads.

Last in the collage is the inkle loom (upper right). Inkle looms are designed to make narrow bands for use as trims, straps or belts. The resulting product is similar to that produced by tablet-weaving, although generally not as thick. The warp threads are manipulated by hand on an inkle loom to form the shed through which the shuttle passes.

Mushroom Band

Day 84: The problem, you see, is that there are so many projects asking to be done, and only one of me to do them, and while I'm doing them, my brain is working on developing future projects, and...well, I'm sure you understand my dilemma. Tablet weaving has again captured my attention after a forty-year absence from the art, and after turning out a couple of 1-inch bands, an idea began rattling around in my brain about mushrooms, Mario mushrooms, those iconic red and white Amanitas found in faerie tales and forests. Now the internet is full of a lot of things, but tablet-woven mushrooms eluded my most diligent searches. Therefore, I would have to create my own. I borrowed sparingly from an existing draft which bore no resemblance to mushrooms in the slightest, and voila! I have mushrooms on mounds of moss with sky (blue, atypical for the Pacific Northwest) behind them. I plan to make a series of bands, all different, to stitch together as a bag or throw pillow top.

Tablet Weaving

Day 70: I've been drawing on old skills to keep boredom at bay as I shelter in place during the pandemic, and in most cases, that just means digging into the back of the cupboard for equipment I already own. That said, I knew I had thrown out my old cardboard tablet-weaving cards at least a decade ago because they had deteriorated to such a point as to be unusable, so I ordered a set of 25 plastic ones to replace them. Having not touched tablet weaving in ages, I was pleased to see the art benefiting from technological advances. Forty years ago, plastic cards weren't available. I started with a simple pattern "to prime the pump" (as it were): a single diamond which, worked with thrums from weaving gave me a sample piece about half an inch wide and five inches long. For my second project (shown here), I dug out two skeins of space-dyed #5 perle cotton which I had originally intended for hardanger, cut each in such a manner that I could best utilize the entire length, and doubled the pattern so that it would yield two diamonds instead of one. The space-dyed thread gives a shimmery effect to the weaving. Tablet weaving (also known as card weaving) is an excellent introduction into the art of creating textiles by manipulating warp and weft. Although I've used plastic cards here, you can make your own from materials you probably already have on hand. You'll need some stiff, thin carboard and a hole punch. Cut out 2.5" or 3" squares , punch a hole in each corner and round them so they won't catch on your threads. Then all you need is some yarn or thread (beginners should use smooth fibers, not yarn) and you're on you way to a weaving adventure.