When a loom falls from the sky


When you want something long enough and hard enough, it eventually falls from the sky.  This is one of the essential truths in my life.

A few years ago, I became aware of these large, traditional looms that break down into a pile of sticks and strings when they are disassembled. I learned that the design of looms in Scandinavia had survived relatively unscathed by the influence of the industrial revolution. I was fascinated by the idea that you began with a basic, sturdy frame, and added only the parts that the current weaving project required. It seemed so pure and focused. I wanted a loom like this.

Which led to the selection of the right house and studio…

Which led to a week-long Basics class at Vävstuga…

Which led to me haunting Craigslist for almost a year…

Everything came together at once, knocking me out of my careful plan into a madcap scramble to get everything done.  Basics class fell in the middle of renovations. The beautiful Glimåkra Standard materialized the DAY BEFORE I was scheduled to move.

I love the way the pine loom fades into the pine wall beyond it. Who would think such a big loom could relax so subtly into my studio? This is what it means to be home.

What it means for me as a weaver is interesting. I am eager to begin weaving for the house: rugs, pillows and blankets. Most of my work up to this point had focused on weaving me home, magical cloth that made my dreams a reality. The work I did at Sparrow Hill was transitional, opening my senses to a quieter and calmer way of weaving as the tension finally drained out of the fiber of my being.

Now here, in the yet-unnamed studio, on a yet-unnamed loom, all I can think of are long warps and simple weaves–stripes, rosepath, and monks’ belt.


One thought on “When a loom falls from the sky

  1. Oh, it’s beautiful I’ve never woven on a Glimakra, but have woven on a Cranbrook, which is similar. Such beauty aligned with functionality – the best.

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