In ZATI The Art of Weaving a Life, Susan Barrett Merrill equates weaving an amulet with setting an intention. It becomes the container for the fragile, young intention. It brings focus to our thoughts, and when it is woven, it becomes a tangible symbol, keeping the intention real, making it less elusive.
Now that I have found a place that I want to call home, I’m setting the intention of being there, pledging myself to the few acres of land that I will buy. The place where I will build my next home. The details are totally fuzzy, but I have to start somewhere. I have a lock for my potting shed door, and this amulet. I have a few years to figure everything else out. Am I crazy, in my middle age, to think about retiring to a more rustic way of life?
As I wove, I sat in the garden at the Aerie. It’s not rustic, but it’s the only patch of land that I own. I had to touch the earth and pet the grass as the living being that it is. I let all the fatigue of the week drain away into the ground.
As I wove, I looked down and found a feather in the grass. Feathers are signposts for me, the Goddess’ way of making me pay attention.
Would I clear this much land for my house, having enough room for a stone terrace, a tiny bit of lawn, and a big kitchen garden? I would also clear a small circle in the midst of the woods, a place for magic and meditation. Might I be fortunate enough to have a small spring bubbling to the surface, like the one that was deep in the woods of my grandparents’ home?
So I wove my intentions, using bits of hand-spun yarn from my treasure basket, and snippets of the art yarn I had learned to spin.
This little bowl was woven on my Journey Loom, using Recycled Sari silk yarn and cotton rug warp. I beat the weaving well with a small tapestry beater, and the resulting bowl is quite firm.
Wait, I do use a simple stick loom.
