In my bin of handwoven fabric, most of the pieces are leftovers, like a short section from the end of a towel warp, or a colorful sampling of weft from the beginning of a warp. But a few of these woven treasures are good-sized pieces that can be used to make something. So, since I want to make a bag for my large Freja tapestry frame, I look through my selection of handwoven fabric pieces.
I find just what I need! Coming across these two significant lengths of fabric is like getting reacquainted with old friends. The meter of red and black cotton eight-shafttwill is something I wove in a Vavstuga class. And the blue cotton warp-printed yardage is fabric I wove to make a tiered skirt, a favorite garment that hangs in my closet. (See Quiet Friday: Handwoven Skirt.)
Treasures from the past come into today to bring value and meaning. Put treasures in your today that will add value to tomorrow. Everything can change in a day, so we can’t put our confidence in tomorrow. But every new day is from the Lord, who holds the future in his hands. Today is a gift. Live it fully. Who knows? Your joy today may be tomorrow’s treasure.
I just crossed an item off my weaving bucket list! Make a ‘cello skirt from handwoven fabric. A ‘cello skirt must be long, and full, and pretty. And if I can wear boots with it, so much the better. A favorite tiered skirt that I made a couple years ago from commercial fabric became the pattern for designing the handwoven fabric for a new skirt. This project included weaving a printed design by stamping the warp on the loom before it was woven. (To see this project develop, check out Related Posts in the sidebar.)
I needed five lengthwise tiers, so I planned it out so that each tier would have a different stamped pattern. This is light blue 8/2 cotton in plain weave, with a dense sett of 30 epi, making a medium-weight fabric. I softened the fabric as much as possible by washing and drying it on hot settings. By strategically placing selvedges at the top and at the bottom of the skirt, I was able to minimize thickness at the waist, and eliminate the need for a hem at the bottom. The finished tiered skirt is long, and full, and has a subtle pretty printed pattern that mildly resembles ikat. And this skirt is made for wearing with boots!
If I could do it over, I would put on a shorterwarp for this experimental project. I enjoyed weaving plain weave, with the simplicity of one shuttle and one color. I did not enjoy, however, stopping every six inches to stamp the warp with paint. Clearly, I am not a paint person.
You can guess that I was overjoyed to see the tie-on bar come over the back beam! That hope of finishing propelled me to the end. Of course, I still have work to do–fixing a few floats, wet finishing, and then sewing a tiered skirt. The root of my problem was not that this was long and slow. The root was my uncertainty. Isn’t that always the case? Is all this effort and mess going to be worth it? Will this fabric even work for the skirt I want to make?
When we are stumbling in the dark, we long for light. It can be discouraging when you are not sure where your decisions will take you. The light of God shines in the darkness, bringing hope. Hope dispels darkness. Much like the tie-on bar at the end of a long warp, when we see hope rounding the corner we know we can make it.
May your path be lit with hope.
By the way, if you are a paint person, I have a set of gently used hand-carved wooden stamps I will send to the first person in the continental U.S. who asks for them. Postage is on me! Get in Touch to let me know you’d like them. *UPDATE*
The stamps have been spoken for! Sandy O. is going to use them to experiment on her rigid heddle loom!
I need only a few simple shapes to stamp the warp. Fortunately, my woodcarver husband agreed to make the wooden stamps for me. Steve asked me to draw the shapes on white paper, and said he would take care of the rest. The result? Superb wooden stamps for making painted designs on the warp while it is on the loom.
Thread on a carefully wound quill comes off effortlessly. I love the feel of the boat shuttle chasing back and forth between my hands, with no resistance whatsoever from the unwinding thread. I wind a few quills at a time and drop them in the loom basket that hangs on my bench. Then, when I empty a quill, I simply reach into the basket and quickly replace the thread in my shuttle, and continue weaving. It is satisfying to do something as enjoyable as weaving, and have it end up as lovely cloth.
I do hope to make beautiful things, but it’s more than that. The weaving procedure, itself, seems beautiful to me. Such strategy. Such alignment of movement and function. There is a deeper satisfaction than merely being pleased with the final results.
Beauty serves a purpose. Beauty points us to our Maker. Yes, purple mountain majesties and intricate iridescent hummingbird feathers do point to a masterful creator. But I am also talking about the beauty of how things work, and how people are responsive to love, and how everything in our solar system fits together. It’s amazing. It’s beautiful. What a Grand Weaver we have!