Grow Lizard Grow

There are no growth spurts with this lizard. He is certainly growing, but at a slow and steady rate. If I can keep this pace of about ten centimeters a week, I will be able to finish this tapestry before we move from the apartment—our temporary residence. The timeline is set. Will this slow-going, slow-growing lizard cross the finish line before I must dismantle the loom again? Time will tell. I have woven fifty centimeters. I have seventy-five centimeters to go.

Weaving a tapestry of a lizard.
Lizard’s foot and leg are starting to disappear around the breast beam on the right-hand side of the loom.
Many wool butterflies in action for this detailed tapestry.
Head of the lizard is visible on the cartoon under the warp. Many wool butterflies crowd each other, due to frequent color changes in the details.
Weaving the lizard's mouth and eye. Tapestry fun!
Lizard is visibly growing. Currently working on the red mouth and blue eye.

Grow. We are woven together by loving each other. Each of us, like strands of wool yarn, with our own degree of hue, saturation, and value, not to mention twist and plies, are united with each other when we hold fast to Jesus Christ, the designer and weaver. His tapestry grows, not in spurts, but slow and steady, year after year, century after century. Always teaching us to love his way—sacrificially. And we know he has just enough time to finish the tapestry masterpiece that he has envisioned from the very beginning.

May you see slow and steady progress in things that matter.

Happy Weaving,
Karen

Dismantled Loom

As June comes to a close, it’s time to sign off for a short while. Meet me right back here the first Friday of August! And head on over to Instagram ( @celloweaver ) to keep up to date with all my daily happenings on and off the loom!

Some things are on hold right now. My “weaving studio” suddenly looks like the spare bedroom it used to be. The big loom is dismantled! Fortunately, it is not a problem for this smart Glimåkra Standard loom to hold onto the warp that I’ve already wound onto the warp beam. The good news is that this cherished loom is being relocated to our Texas hill country home, where it will take the stage as if it were a grand piano.

Preparing loom for dismantling with warp on the loom.
White sheet from my box of old sheets (for scrap rag weft) is used to wrap the warp on the warp beam. It is tied securely with some long fabric strips.
Dismantling my loom for moving.
Shafts are tied together at the ends with seine twine. Fabric strips are tied around to hold the shafts together in a bundle. The bundle of shafts is placed on an old Flintstones beach towel, and then wrapped up like a big burrito and tied up with more fabric strips.
Dismantling the Glimakra Standard.
Piece by piece, loom is dismantled.
Relocating this Glimakra Standard loom.
Fully dismantled, the loom becomes sticks and pieces of wood. Ready for relocation!
Boxes labeled "KEEP WITH LOOM," for loom being relocated.
Loom essentials are in boxes labeled “KEEP WITH LOOM.” The wooden mallet will be one of the first things needed.

Hold. Several meanings for this word come to mind. Sometimes our familiar patterns of daily life are on hold. There’s a pause, a held breath. But during that pause, our plans and threads of normal practices are securely and lovingly wrapped up on a strong beam of hope. Wrap the spare cloth securely over your precious warp ends so that when it’s time, you can unroll the warp and finish dressing the loom for spectacular twelve-shaft double weave towels. Hold fast to Christ as Christ holds all your interrupted threads of being.

PS The Lizard tapestry is in full swing on the not-dismantled Glimåkra Ideal.

Lizard tapestry on Glimakra Ideal loom.
Lizard tapestry on the Ideal loom now has my singular attention. Thirty centimeters complete.

May you have a fantastic July!

Lovingly,
Karen

Melody Towels

I am stepping out of the box with this combination, trusting that what is seen only in my mind’s eye will have an extraordinary impact. This warp will become towels for my daughter Melody. I chose cottolin threads in colors that remind me of the colorfully painted homes we saw on our visit to Chile a few years ago when Melody was living there. Aqua, light poppy, marigold, and orchid.

New warp on the warping reel.
Mix of colors that remind me of Chile.
Warping reel. Winding a new colorful warp!
First of three bouts on the warping reel.
Beaming the warp with a warping trapeze.
Beaming the warp with the help of the warping trapeze.
Cottolin towel warp being beamed.
Warp beam with new cottolin warp for towels.

We trust what we can see—a chair to hold us, and an airplane to fly us. But unseen things are also part of our trust—the chair maker’s glue, and the air that aerodynamic engineers depend on. Earth and heaven, seen and unseen. Jesus, seen on earth, made the unseen God visible. Trust the unseen.

May you step out of the box.

Trusting,
Karen

Glorious Weft Leftovers

I didn’t know it could look like this. The pleasant color interaction is astounding! Had I known, I may have woven the whole throw in this manner. This is the end of the warp, after 16 centimeters for the sample, 166 centimeters for the throw, and 50 centimeters for the lap blanket.

Double weave throw on the loom.
For the lap blanket I am spacing the blocks differently than for the throw. The deep plum weft has narrow and wider stripes that separate the squares into groups of three.

An ending sample is a perfect opportunity to use up weft left on the quills, and even some quills of 8/2 cotton left over from other projects. When the dark plum quill empties, others colors take its place. I put the colors one right after the other, without the dark plum separating them into squares. The fabric image that appears in front of me is mesmerizing!

Double weave sample on the loom. May be my favorite sample yet!
Softer color transitions are made by eliminating the deep plum weft stripes between colors.

Double weave sample. Karen Isenhower

Cutting off! Double weave in 8/2 cotton.
Back of fabric highlights the warp stripes, with deep plum squares. Now, for the finishing work!

Image. What we do with what we know contributes to the image of who we are. When we trust in Christ, who is the image of the invisible God, our image is renovated. We are renewed in our knowledge, aligning our image with God. What a magnificent thought! How differently we might live if we only knew how glorious the outcome will be. The Grand Weaver turns our leftover weft into his astounding masterpiece.

May you find glorious surprises in your leftover threads.

Happy weaving,
Karen

Tapestry Reveals Lizard Toes

I fully intended to weave a floral image for my first four-shaft tapestry. Flowers have interesting and beautiful colors and shapes. However, while I am taking pictures for that very purpose at the garden center near our Texas hill country home, a bright green lizard catches my eye. Stunning in color and detail!

Bright green anole in Texas hill country.
Bright green lizard stops to pose for the camera at the garden center. He strikes a different pose for the image I am using for my tapestry.
Four-shaft tapestry lizard.
Foot of the lizard is seen on the cartoon under the warp near the right-hand side.

This cute little fellow, technically a green anole, is my tapestry subject! With every wool butterfly and placement of weft, I am hoping for a fruitful outcome—a 3’ x 4’ tapestry of a (recognizable) bright green lizard on a wooden post.

Four-shaft tapestry - lizard foot.
Five lizard toes to weave.
Tapestry of a green anole in Texas.
Tapestry woven from the side, meaning the selvedge seen here will be the upper edge of the tapestry when it is hung.
Four-shaft tapestry.
Nearing completion of the first twenty centimeters.

Fruitful. We want to know that the things we say and do have lasting value. We want to live in a way that bears the fruit of positive outcomes, don’t we? When results are slow in coming, or not readily seen, it can be discouraging. It’s time to trust the Lord. Don’t be disheartened. Instead, think of long-term cultivation. What looks uncertain now will be a distinct part of the image when you look back. Any mistakes woven in are proof of our humanness. And that proof reminds all of us that we need a Savior. Keep weaving.

May you see the good fruits from your labor.

Happy weaving,
Karen