After the warp is wound onto the back beam, I prepare to thread the heddles. By counting the warp ends into measured groups, I am much more likely to prevent a threading error. If I miss a heddle, I catch it after only 24 ends, instead of after threading all 424 ends. Now, if only I would measure my words before I speak, I could prevent errors in what I say, too.
Blue linen shimmers on the back beam, with loosely-tied overhand knots holding groups of warp ends.
Of course, you wouldn’t literally count your words before speaking, but thinking before speaking is always a good idea. When we rush to say what’s on our mind, our safeguards are gone. And spoken errors are a lot harder to fix than threading errors.
Wisdom protects your words. It means not saying everything you think. Wisdom is a filter that makes your thoughts presentable, so you can speak in a way that does no harm, and only good. When we stop and count the cost of our spoken words, before they leave our mouths, we have the beginning of a good conversation, a healthy dialog, or even a worthwhile disagreement. Oh, the interesting cloth we weave with our words!
May you speak wise words at just the right moment.
At Jason Collingwood’s Plain Weave Rug Workshop in Waco, Texas last week, I completed a technique sampler. I was not one of the fastest guns in the West, so I have a couple yards (or more…) of that linen warp still on my little loom. One piece of advice Jason gave in class was to use the intricacies of these techniques sparingly–to keep it simple when it comes to rug design. That is what I am aiming for as I finish off this warp, hoping to end up with some miniature rugs (the warp is only 11 1/4″ wide) as design samples.
Finished sample of plain weave rug techniques. The sample begins with countered twining that extends past the selvedge with a four-strand braid. My favorite technique is the crossed weft combined with meet and separate, seen at the far end of the sample.
Jason was kind enough to converse with me on topics that would benefit you, my blog friends. You can catch the first part of that conversation, covering Jason’s perspective as a rug weaver and a teacher of rug weaving, here.
Now, enjoy Part 2 of our conversation.
Me: Once someone has mastered the technical aspects, and is producing quality handwoven goods, they may want to sell what they have produced. What advice do you have for someone just starting out?
Jason: You need to be very determined. You have to accept that it’s not going to happen instantly. And you have to be prepared to sacrifice certain things in life that a normal job may give you–be that security, spare income, or, possibly, medical insurance coverage.
Me: It’s challenging to get started, then?
Jason: I look back to my early years, and it’s interesting… And Akiko, my wife, is a very successful ceramicist now, but when she started off, to save money, she would walk across London four or five miles, with a little dolly on wheels. She would buy her bags of clay, put them on the dolly, and wheel them back across London. And you know, there are all these early little sacrifices that you don’t see, when you see the person in the galleries successfully selling their work.
Me: Your father, Peter Collingwood, was well-known as an extraordinary rug weaver. But you still needed to put in a lot of hard work, yourself, for people to associate Jason Collingwood with high quality handwoven rugs. So, if someone aspires to succeed as a weaver, how can they make it work?
Jason: I think you need to have determination, and some amount of grit, and self-discipline. At the end of the day, there’s no one telling you to sit at that loom, and weave again the same things you did yesterday, and again, and again, and again. I think it’s just perseverance. As long as you are producing something of quality, eventually, if you persevere, it’ll pay off.
Me: Okay, that gives hope to someone willing to work hard. If we look beyond the present challenges, and work, with determination, we have something to look forward to.
Jason: You know, those barren early years are almost like an investment in your future life, your weaving life. I mean, I didn’t particularly enjoy those years, but I think they were almost a necessary test of whether I was going to stick it out. I think a lot of people would’ve folded in those early years, and said, Okay, this isn’t working. But, you know, it was kind of a test of my resolve that I carried on.
Me: Thank you for sharing your story! Your insights bring considerable value to weavers, but also to people in other fields interested in improving their craft. I appreciate the encouragement of your example of determination. Thanks again!
Please visit Jason Collingwood’s website, here, to see the stunning rugs he weaves and sells, as well as descriptions of his workshops. You can also enjoy the artistry of Jason’s wife, Akiko, at her website, here.
You were created to live an exceptional life! Since there is only one you, this is your chance to shine.
16/1 linen in saturated colors. The blue is for the warp, and the green and magenta are for the weft. Glass beads will be woven in with the weft. (At least, that’s the plan.)
These qualities are the glass beads that make your life sparkle:
Humility
Gentleness
Patience
Unselfish Love
And if woven into the cloth, instead of just loosely attached here and there, these light-reflecting beads will endure the test of time. Such sparkles, uncommon for many, will set you apart as one created for exceptional living.
May your sparkles increase and delight the ones you love.
I maneuver this tiny band loom shuttle entirely with my left hand. Winding the shuttle properly is essential. If the thread is not wound tightly, loops of thread start slipping off the ends of the shuttle, which messes up everything. Good listening is like a well-wound shuttle, and is essential for the health of any relationship. Even when we want to listen better, it’s easy to fall into bad habits.
Three sizes of linen thread are combined to weave a simple band on the band loom. Shuttle, hand-carved by my husband, is modeled after an old Swedish band loom shuttle.
Mrs. Isenhower, your son does not have a hearing problem, the audiologist informed me. Apparently, what he has is a listening problem. Ha ha! That seems funny now, years later. When it comes to listening, though, eight-year-old boys aren’t the only ones with a problem. My own viewpoint often stands in the way of hearing another. And in defense mode, I miss what another person says entirely.
If I listen with a humble heart, I am more interested in what you have to say than I am in my own opinions. Humility prepares the heart before a conversation, like carefully preparing that shuttle for the band loom, and smooths the way to truly hear.
May you hear something new as you practice listening today.
