It took me four years to go from winding this rainbow warp to cutting this last length of fabric off the loom. I am not the same weaver I was when I began. I am not even the same person.
Rainbow’s End is the resting point between life’s many journeys. As a weaver, my journey has been toward Saori free style weaving, a place outside the rule books, the place where instinct is all you need. As a person, it’s been a journey from a desperate need for absolutes, back toward a softer world of possibilities.
Rainbow’s End is the image of this transformation. The warp, with its regular stripes, is where I began. The weft, intuitive, yet made from mostly that same thread, is where I am today. My now empty loom is where I will begin my next journey.
It took courage to plunge my smooth weaving into a tub of hot water. I was right to trust my instincts. The wool inlays are fine. The tightly spun worsted singles, steam-finished, didn’t shrink as much as the cotton. Don’t believe everything they tell you. Sometimes you have to take a chance.
Amber cat says, “Chances. I take them.”
Before I left the village center of Shelburne Falls, I stopped at Wandering Moon (59 Bridge St.) They always have a great collection of handcrafted silver and gold jewelry. I was too focused on yarn to decide upon jewelry, so I left with only a small, marbled silk scarf in shades of purple and aqua. I can make colour decisions no matter how focused I am on other things.
My next stop was Metaphor Yarns, and I was looking for yarns by local spinners and dyers that are not easy to find at home. Meta has a wonderful selection of basic and luxury yarns, but I was drawn to these three yarns by local artisans.
The grey yarn at the top is Twilight, a wool and alpaca twist, raised and spun by Barbara Parry of Foxfire Fiber. It has subtle blue and orchid accents.
The purple yarn in the middle is a marled yarn from Dragon Broook Yarns. It’s a Romney cross from a small farm in Shelburne. She sends her fleece to be mill-spun into singles, but dyes it in small batches and then plies it by hand.
The green yarn at the bottom is hand dyed especially for Metaphor Yarns by Gail Callahan, the Kangaroo Dyer. This colorway is Seafoam.
I intend to use all these yarns as accents in the weft of the Misted Hills coat
I was tempted to take home this entire basket of Barbara Parry yarns, but I left some for you, and headed south to meet a friend for dinner. If you like subtle Mexican food, La Veracruzana in Amherst is a real treat.
After buying warp at WEBS, I got back on I-91 and headed north to Greenfield. Once again I was traveling in my own shadow. When my mother and I owned Elizabethan Arts, one of our supply trips, nicknamed the ‘triple crown of fabric’ took us up I-91 starting at Osgood’s in Springfield, MA to Northampton Fabric Company and then on to Eastern Textile in Greenfield. Northampton Fabric Company closed many years ago. This stretch of highway is rather pretty, and as I relaxed into the driving, I realized how much I miss the hills and the open green spaces.
Shelburne Falls is a pretty little river town, with charming shops and the Bridge of Flowers. I chose to park on the opposite side of the river and walk back to Vävstuga on its garden-lined path.
I opened the door of the tiny yellow shop and fell in love with the tiny red loom, the handwoven shop curtains, and the inviting, welcoming staff. I was so stunned that I stopped taking pictures. I wasn’t so stunned to walk out without any yarn. Oh no. I wil have accent stripes in my weft that remind me of this lovely studio. Some really smooth Bockens Mobelatta came home with me, as did a temple for those times when I care about my selvedges.
I wanted to take a Glimakra Standard loom home with me, but the Aerie is simply too small for it. I must return someday to take a class at Vävstuga, weave on the classically beautiful looms, and stay in the charming guest quarters upstairs.
I was resigned to hanging the dutiful square little color gamp on the wall behind my loom. After I hemmed the top and fringed the bottom, of course. How traditional and ordinary. That was how I felt about the entire exercise. It was just ordinary. I was ready to move on.
First, I needed a rod to hang it from, and I went rummaging in the umbrella stand. Found one umbrella, a paper parasol, a shepherd’s crook, and assorted rough walking sticks. Hmmm. Here was a branch from Aunt Maple, the beautiful old tree that once stood outside the Aerie window. Perfect, just perfect. The weaving fits on one end, completely off center, like a flag. YES!
I quickly turned a blind hem to make a casing and tied a simple fringe at the bottom, leaving it ragged. YES! YES! YES!
Forget about hanging it behind the loom. It belongs here, above the altar of the Woodland God.
Last week, I had only questions. Today I have answers and they are resoundingly YES! The color gamp is history, and I suppose I did learn something from it, if only to discover that I don’t like regular stripes of huck lace. What I do like is a random melange of soft Egyptian cotton for weft (Thanks, Jojomojo, for the bag of goodies!). I like recycled sari silk. I like having a purpose for weaving but not a plan.
It feels good to have no draft in front of me.
It feels good to have each throw of the shuttle be its own moment.
I don’t have words to describe how it feels to be so present in the weaving.
I think this picture tells the whole story.
Duty comes before pleasure. This rainbow warp was first promised to be a color gamp. However, I am letting the selvedges go as they will, because that is the charm of a handwoven piece.
