When I was learning to weave, I wasn’t quite sure what goes where, how much, or how long. I felt like I had too many hands and yet not enough. Eventually things gelled, skills built and when there was a problem, I knew how to solve it or at least where to begin to come up with a plan.
The prep stages of weaving are often my favorite part of the process: measuring out the length of yarn for the warp (long yarns that get threaded onto the loom), and the slow, repetitive process of handing each yarn end multiple times to get it ready on the loom. There is a lot of repetition that is meditative for me. While my mind can wander a bit, I must be present in each task to ensure I don’t make mistakes or at least to minimize them.
The hardest part for me in weaving is bringing the idea in my head into existence. What colors to use? What materials? How do I want to weave it? Making functional items like blankets, towels is easier. Decide and then do it. But making art pieces is a totally different game. I am a process artist. I fumble and experiment to slowly realize the image in my head. The materials and the process of making are all informative to the result. I’ll admit that very often the finished product isn’t even the point for me. The artwork in these instances is the making. In contrast there have been a handful of times that I know exactly what I want to make and then it is just a matter of doing it.
Convergence 2014 20” x 23 ½” Woven Brocade - cotton, and rayon. 2014
Being an artist for me is a balance of certainty and uncertainty. Knowing what to do and how it will finish in the end vs. putting in the hard work, time and not knowing how things will be completed in the end, or even if they will be completed at all. Abandoning ideas, pieces and scrapping them happens a lot. After unpacking from our move, I’ve sorted through many items that I’ve kept to use the materials again.
Learning something new as an adult is challenging. By contrast, children are used to not knowing how to do many things. They are accustomed to learning new things in groups of their peers, and they have less ego involved with initially being really bad. Everything is new. The Buddhist have a term “beginners’ mind” that I’ve thought about a lot as I was teaching and again when I was in graduate school assisting other students. There is a golden optimism in the beginner’s mind. Everything is open, possibilities exist everywhere, and there is an eagerness to engage. I’ve learned so much from beginner weavers who don’t know “the rules” or that “you can’t/shouldn’t do that.” I try to cultivate my beginner’s mind when I’m in the studio, leaving behind the should, shouldn’t and instead ask myself open questions to keep my curiosity in play.
Engaging with certainty and uncertainty can be challenging. The pandemic has thrown many of us into the realm of deep uncertainty. I remember the fear of the early days and trying to wrap our collective arms around things we thought we could control. In my own life, I’m having to admit to myself that I’ve had a year of upheaval. Most of it has been good, but some of it has been hard. Health issues, moving, fixing issues in a new home (a paradox after we’d already fixed so much in our old home), weather changes and relationship changes. I saw this meme the other day on social media:
Ouch.
I found myself sitting on the floor under my loom the other day having a moment. My current loom uses a new-to-me technology that has thrown me deeply back to the beginner stage. I do not yet have the knowledge to see how to correct the problem that I’m having. It is frustrating. My tolerance for frustration lately has been low. It’s been a challenging couple of weeks with many things needing solutions that are outside of my knowledge zone. So I complained about it on social media, and walked away from the loom. The next day I came back and broke the problem down step by step. I had done some reading and I had a better idea of what I needed to do. As I gain more experience with this loom, I know it will likely get easier.
For now, I’m slowly weaving on a piece or something. I’m using it to get to know my loom more, to feel the pleasure of yarn between my fingers and to sit with uncertainty in a neutral way.
Work in progress.
In other news, a few weeks ago I applied for Art for Water, a division of Minnesota Water Stewards program offered by Freshwater. This program trains participants on water issues, and preservation of waterways. Being part of Art for Water, I will take all the trainings, work with local partners and create artwork to help inspire and educate others on water issues. I’m honored to have been accepted in the 2023 cohort! I’m looking forward to learning and working on the issues. My artwork has included water in them for years, and since moving to an area so rich in water resources, I’ve felt the pull to learn more. This opportunity will provide so much research and resources for future projects.
Watersheds: Open Door 24" h x 22" w x 1" d Cottons and linens. Hand dyed cotton, lace and linen manipulated fabrics, handwoven fabrics, hand & machine pieced with hand embroidery. 2022
We are hunkering down in the Twin Cities with many sub zero days. Yesterday was the solstice and the promise of more light each day brings hope and promise. Happy Holidays to everyone.
Frozen marsh and lake in the Twin Cities. Beautiful.
