This came together at warp speed, and I think that’s the worst pun I’ve ever made, but I couldn’t help myself. I must be feeling better.
Making this was very, very cool.
It was fast, and emotionally engaging, and very physical.
I used a good deal of my rosemary, yellow dock, and coffee dye samples, and found that particularly satisfying. I’ve been dicking around for a year, trying this, trying that, making all these teeny, tiny experiments, and then wondering what on earth I’m going to do with them.
I kept telling myself that something worthy would come up, that I was filling my stash with rich and meaningful pieces to work with. I didn’t really believe myself when I told myself that, but it turned out that, at least in this case, I was right.
I spun and dyed the majority of the weft yarn myself.
The very bright yellows are acid dyes, the rest of the yellows are natural dyes, rosemary and yellow dock. The beiges are coffees, dock, and faded, fugitive bougainvilleas. The charcoals are bougainvillea, rosemary, and coffee with iron mordant, except for one of the lighter greys, which is undyed.
The handspun weft is fat, so I warped my loom at eight ends per inch with a small weft yarn, hoping for a loose weave and a drapey fabric. It’s what I got, and I love the hand on this weaving.
My thought was to develop a weaving that reflects my transition from ebullient to alcoholic, in the context of my dancing days at 321.
It wasn’t a straight road. There were steps forward and steps back, years of joy and loveliness, of boredom, or of loneliness, but altogether it was a migration into—and out of—a darkness of the soul.