It is time that I unlearn how to weave.

It is time to let go of the notions of perfect selvedge and yards and yards of uniform fabric.

That warp that I painstakingly threaded with huck lace is a canvas upon which I can create.  What happens if I pull out a few warp threads?  Regroup the spacing on a few others? What, indeed?

What happens when I use a thick yarn for the warp? Recycled sari silk!!!

What happens when I soften the transitions from color to color, by creating stripes of varying widths?

What about knots! What indeed?

I haven’t felt this energized about weaving in years!

One of the worst pieces of weaving advice was given me when my floor loom was new. Let me tell you what it was and why it was such bad advice for me.

I was all excited to have a new loom, and was so eager to explore my loom.  I declared that I was going to put on 10 yards of black warp in plain weave and PLAY!

My erstwhile mentor told me that was the worst thing I could do, and tried to convince me to weave a color gamp first. I simply refused to do that, she then coerced me into picking a project and doing all sorts of wretched math first.  I ended up making a chenille scarf but didn’t really enjoy it.  I felt like the project was done before I started and I never felt present when I sat down at the loom.

Had my mentor understood me better, she would have realized that I wanted play with yarn texture, and mix all sorts of bright colors under the unifying black warp. I didn’t want to create something precise and mechanical. She never looked at me as a person, just as a potential weaver to be molded in her style. She never realized that I usually wear a combination black and bright colors. That I’m not fashionable, but that I  have a strong personal style.

Lately, I have been reading about Saori weaving. Ironically, it often begins with a long black warp in plain weave.  Interesting.