New Life for an Old Rigid Heddle Loom Blanket

My weaving interest started in 1982 when I happened across a rigid heddle loom class by Lynn Tedder at Johnson Atelier in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I acquired a 32-inch Beka Rigid Heddle Loom and began weaving during snippets of time as I was being a full-time mommy to one, two, and then three little ones. One of my very first projects on that simple loom was a wool color gamp sampler. I wove full width for a length equal to two panels that I then hand-stitched together to make a small blanket. That little blanket got a lot of use and wear, and at some point I packed it away because some of the edges had become a little ragged over time.

In 2019 I finished one of my first warps on the drawloom–Tuna wool fabric in which I wove designs for a simple vest I would make for myself. I created the pattern for the vest, and after doing several muslins, I wanted to do a mockup in similar weight to the wool fabric from the drawloom. I dug out that old rigid heddle loom blanket! Perfect for this assignment as a mockup.

I made a mockup for the drawloom vest. I cut the mockup vest from a plain weave color gamp sampler blanket I wove on my 32″ Beka rigid heddle loom in 1982. The blanket was made from two panels hand-stitched together down the middle.
Wool vest made in January 2020 from fabric woven on the drawloom.

Why not make that color gamp mockup into a wearable vest on its own? That is what I have finished this week. The pictures that follow tell the story.

I made the mockup vest with overlapped seams.
I am using handwoven bands to cover the seams on the vest. This pretty band was woven a couple years ago on a small band heddle that Steve made for me.
Double fold bias tape covers all the edges of the vest. First I stitch the tape to the edge of the vest, right sides together. You can see another handwoven band that I am using to cover the shoulder seams.
Next, I fold the bias tape around the edge and to the inside, and “stitch in the ditch” to catch the edge of the bias tape on the inside of the vest.
I found this two-part metal closure in my box of sewing odds and ends. It’s perfect for this vest. The thimble is one my grandmother used in her many hand-sewing projects.
Simple closure for a simple vest.
Sewing my handwoven label on the lower edge of the inside is the finishing touch.
Rigid heddle blanket, now a wearable vest!

When I think about how the Lord allowed me to discover the joy of weaving on a simple little frame loom… And how He has allowed me to enjoy growing in these skills, and how I get to have the pleasure of weaving on a not-so-simple large drawloom… It reminds me of Psalm 16:11 “You reveal the path of life to me; in Your presence is abundant joy; at Your right hand are eternal pleasures.”

Happy to wear a remnant of my rigid heddle loom days!

Thanksgiving: Giving thanks to the Lord for allowing us to know the joy of walking in His path of life.

Happy Thanks Giving, Karen

Revive those Handwoven Scraps

Handwoven remnants (aka scraps) do not get thrown away. Every scrap is good for something. Some scraps are so unusual it takes an extra dose of creativity to find a use for them.

Simple rectangular handbag made from weft-cord handwoven fabric. The cording produces ridges. Ruffled gathers form in between the rows of ridges. 6/2 Tuna wool for warp and plain weave weft. I used a bulky single-ply wool for the cording.

This remnant of blue wool fabric is something I wove a few years ago during my Big Book of Weaving adventure. This structure uses a weft-cord technique, which creates interesting ridges in the fabric. The original project is a simple handbag. The remaining fabric has been buried in a box of remnants. Until now.

Handwoven remnants from previous projects are used for the lining and pocket in the handbag.

I had a great idea to make a bench cushion for my Julia loom from this unusual remnant. Guess what? All those ridges are not so comfortable to sit on (fortunately, I tested it first). My next idea, though, is a success! The blue bumpy scrap makes a nice lumbar pillow, adding special comfort to the rocking chair that belonged to my great grandmother.

Remnant is folded over and hand-stitched, leaving an opening in the center for a muslin pillow insert that I made to fit. The weft-cord weaving produces natural loops at the selvedges, which I am using to my advantage here. Three buttons from my button box are used for closure in conjunction with the selvedge loops.
Buttons to the back, the wide and narrow pillow works beautifully for lumbar support in my great grandmother’s rocking chair.

May you find uses for all your fabric scraps.

Your friend,
Karen

Have enough Colors of Yarn?

I don’t want to tell you how many different colors I have of wool yarn. Most of it is 6/2 Tuna and 6/1 Fårö, but I have a good collection of other wool yarns, too. If it’s wool, I include it in my tapestry weaving. I have all of it arranged according to a 5-step value scale.

Yarn butterfly is equivalent to about 4 strands of 6/2 Tuna. I’m composing a color in the medium-dark value range.

If I combine the colors of wool just right, I can make the exact color I need for a tapestry detail. This is the challenge on which I thrive. There are never enough colors. Or, so it seems. The truth is, I have more than enough color options. Besides, for tapestry, the exact hue of a color is not nearly as important as the value of a color in relation to the colors around it.

Tapestry in progress. I carefully select yarns, mostly according to color value.
The cart beside the loom holds all the possible colors I may need for this Figs and Coffee small tapestry. I stop frequently to evaluate the colors and the value contrasts in the weaving.

The Most High God, Creator of heaven and earth, Creator of color, makes himself known. Take a look outside. Everywhere we look there is more color than we know how to express. So, in our humble attempts to make yarn butterflies in exact colors, we are showing that we are indeed made in our Creator’s image.

May you see all the color around you.

Your friend,
Karen

Tapestry Story

It’s as if every row ends with a cliffhanger, and I want to see what will happen next. I know the end of the story, but I’m still eager to see how it plays out. This is how I experience tapestry weaving. I linger here as long as I can. When I do walk away from the loom, I’m already anticipating the next time I get to do this.

Butterfly wing. This second butterfly image shows more detail than the first butterfly image on this warp (which is now beginning to touch the cloth beam).
Cart with balls of wool yarn sits beside the loom for making new yarn butterflies as I go.

I use a cartoon of reduced size as a color reference for making butterflies. A black-and-white version shows me value contrasts. I twist strands of yarn together to find a specific hue and value. Each new butterfly becomes integral to the cliffhanger story. At the loom, my thoughts are fully engaged in the details of this story.

I combine various wool yarns until I find the right combination for the color I want to add to the tapestry. The thickness of each bundle of strands for a butterfly is approximately equivalent to the thickness of 4 strands of Borgs 6/2 Tuna wool yarn.
Every row brings new excitement.
Reduced-size cartoon helps me find the needed hue (color) and intensity (relative brightness or dullness) for yarn butterflies. The black-and-white version helps me see the value (range of light to dark as seen on a gray scale) in comparison to neighboring values.

When I pray, my thoughts are fully engaged in the details of life. Prayer answers our heavenly Father’s invitation to come and be alone with him. He listens as we talk to him about our life’s cliffhangers. Prayer is so much more than making requests. It’s about consulting with our Father to gain his heavenly point of view for the tapestry he is creating. When we see the strands come together just so, we know our life’s story is in the Grand Weaver’s hands.

May your cliffhangers have happy endings.

Your friend,
Karen

Tapestry that Tries to Copy

The jumble of yarn looks like a random play of colors. But if you look a little closer, and push the yarn butterflies out of the way, you can tell that the color choices are deliberate. You see only a hint of the image, though, until you look through the back end of the monocular, or step up on the step stool to have a look from up above the weaving. That’s when you get an overview of what’s on the loom.

New tapestry project.
Yarn butterflies each have a mix of wool, mostly 6/2 Tuna and 6/1 Fårö yarn.
Weaving a new tapestry on the floor loom.
The mix of colors in each yarn butterfly is a deliberate selection for the specific hues, values, and intensities I want to portray.
Tapestry of a butterfly wing.
View from my seat on the loom bench.

This warp is a study project. I want to test some tapestry techniques to help me develop my style. I made the cartoon by cropping and enlarging a photograph I took years ago. The butterfly had just emerged from its chrysalis! The subject for my study: the butterfly’s intricate wing.

Tapestry on the floor loom, and how to view it.
Peering through the *wrong* end of the monocular gives me a distant view of the tapestry in progress.
Get a view from higher up to get a better perspective on life.
I stand on a stepstool near the loom to get an even broader view of the tapestry from a distance. This perspective shows me how effective my yarn selections are (or are not) for the image I want to create.
Intricate butterfly wing - subject for tapestry study.
Cartoon in a reduced size helps me see the color distinctions. Photo in black and white helps me see value contrasts.

Who designed the butterfly wing? A stained-glass artist may conceive it. A tapestry weaver may copy it. A silk dyer may imagine it. But only our Creator could bring it to life. God makes himself known. Push the obstacles out of the way. Look for design. Gain a higher perspective. With each woven row, the image becomes more and more clear. When the butterfly wing begins to flutter you know you are witnessing something from the mind of God.

May you see what is hidden.

Happy weaving,
Karen