Is there anything as exciting as cutting off? Oh sure, there will be some errors to mend. And only wet finishing will reveal the true nature of the cloth. But after investing hours and hours at the loom, cutting the fabric off is a celebration. This is the moment when the work of this weaver’s hands is finally revealed!
While admiring and examining the fabric as it comes off the loom, I am already moving onto the next step–finishing. Here are a few of my regular practices.
Thread-mark the right side of the fabric on each sample and individual piece before completely removing the fabric from the loom. This removes guesswork later. Thread a blunt-tip needle with 6 – 8″ of warp or weft thread, and make a 1/2″ stitch through the fabric. Leaving a loose loop, tie the ends of the thread together in a square knot on the right side of the fabric.
Tie sequential knots in the thread marks. e.g., First towel has one knot, second towel has 2 knots, etc. This enables accurate record-keeping measurements before and after wet finishing for individual items.
Cut pieces apart before washing.
1. Two weft picks have been woven for each cutting line. The two threads make an easy guide path for the scissors.
2. Use the same cutting-line color for every project (I use red, unless red is one of the weft colors in the project). This helps prevent accidental cutting at weft design stripes in the piece (which I did once –Oops!– before establishing this rule).
3. Pull out the cutting-line threads. Any remaining thread residue is easily removed with a lint roller.
Finish the cut edges with an overlock stitch on a serger or with a zigzag stitch (preferably a three-stitch zigzag, according to my friend, Elisabeth) on a sewing machine.
Humans are not finished until they are loved. Love is patience and kindness at the core. We want to be on the receiving end of that, don’t we? We all need someone to love us–to carry our burdens, to believe us, to hope the best for us, to endure with us. It’s in the finishing that we discover the value, the corrections needed, and the beauty that has been woven in. This is the love of God to us. This is the finishing work of Jesus Christ, and his love in us.
May you have many cutting-off celebrations.
With love, Karen
PS It’s good to be back with you! I hope you had a pleasant and weaving-full July.
This is my attempt to add a fascinating detail. I alternated white and brass-colored ends in the warp stripe. In a similar fashion, I alternated colors in the weft stripe, too. It’s an experiment. The short columns that emerge in the weft stripe are a result of this thread arrangement. The outcome looks promising. Wet finishing will reveal the final effects of this low-risk exploration.
I like to do experiments on the loom. Little risks open up possibilities and ideas for future projects. Every learning experience is a step that leads to insight for future learning. And I have so much more to learn!
Step-by-step learning has some common ground with finding a good path for life. Walking the right path is like walking in the early morning. The dim light of dawn gradually increases and the pathway becomes more and more clear as the sun rises to the full light of day. Our Creator gave us a lighted path. The learning experiences from our experiments and explorations in life help us discover the path of the Lord, where the light beckons us. Walk in the light. It’s where we can see the next good step.
I just reached the quarter-of-the-way mark. After completing a long border at the beginning of this runner, I have been weaving the same two blocks over and over. And over. Really? I’m only a fourth of the way there? This long table runner is a marathon, not a sprint.
I am already thinking about the rag rug project that’s up next. The plans are written out. The rug warp is waiting on my shelf. And it has been too long since I’ve had rag rugs on the loom. As you know, rag rugs are my favorite. If I’m not careful, impatience creeps in.
Look up to heaven. When you pray, it’s a signal that you want the Lord of heaven to get involved. It’s a way of saying you don’t have everything you need on your own. Like patience. And gratitude. He brings you back to remember how much you enjoy the mechanics of weaving–throwing the shuttle back and forth, gliding your feet across the treadles, making threads turn into cloth. Living a dream come true. Miles and miles of Sålldräll (M’s and O’s)? Yes, please. I’m happy with that.