Monday, March 18, 2024

Leclerc L Model

 


In 2019 my local guild was given an old L model Leclerc Loom.  It was unlike any Leclerc loom I'd seen before, and had many similarities to a Macomber.

It had been in storage for a number of years before it came to us, and needed some TLC.  When Covid hit, there wasn't time nor energy to do much, although we did get a warp on it.  However, the TLC we did was insufficient, and it sat for a long time before I had the energy to deal with it.

Eventually the pressure to get the thing working again built, and over the winter I managed to make new aprons for this and several of the other guild 'herd', and Doug took a look at the mechanical side of it and got the four shafts currently in the loom working again.

Yesterday I finally found enough spoons to dress the loom with a 'practice' warp (with help from a guild member to beam the warp).  There are still some issues with it, but at least it is able to be woven on now.

I knew the loom had been used by a production weaver and was curious to see how it worked and was pleasantly surprised to discover that the effort to treadle it was minimal.  

We have a tiny group of new weavers so I'm hoping that some of them will give this loom a try.  It's pretty large, but since it *could* go up to 12 shafts (we have the shafts, just need some more heddles), plus it has a double back beam, it would be nice to keep it for members who would like to use more than four shafts.  However, if it doesn't get used, we will look at selling it.

In the meantime, the new therapy *appears* to be helping, although I am a far distance from where I would like to be.  I talk to the pain doctor in 10 days, and I am hoping that I will be enough improved that I can begin reducing the pain medications (side effects are being controlled by additional pills - sigh).  But mostly I'm hoping to be able to start walking again.  

Like the old L model loom, I need some adjustments and a great deal of tweaks, but so far I *can* still weave.  I'm just hoping that if I improve enough, I could consider teaching in person locally, and grow those newbie weavers a little bit.  I suspect the reason they aren't weaving is that they don't feel confident enough - yet.

If I can grow my energy and the number of activity spoons, I could see if they would like a weaving study group.  But it all depends on if I can dig myself out of this dry 'fitness' well, find more spoons in my energy drawer.

TBD.

Saturday, March 16, 2024

Lurching

 


Someone posted a meme on Facebook about 'baby steps' being tentative when they are anything but.  The poster equated a baby learning how to walk as a 'lurch into the unknown'.

And I thought about my life and how many times I 'lurched' into the unknown.

I think it began with reading.  I was reading by age 4.  Loved to read.  Couldn't get enough of reading.  And each book showed me a new world.  A new life.  A new way of looking at my world - and beyond.

At age 12 I'd read pretty much everything in the children's section of the public library and tentatively asked if I could take books from the 'adult' section.  

"Why?" the librarian asked.  I explained I'd read everything in the children's section.  I suppose I looked so woebegone she took pity on me.  As I entered the stacks, I didn't know where to start.  Therefore it seemed appropriate to begin with the authors with A as the first letter of their surname.  And quickly discovered Isaac Asimov.  After that I became a huge fan of science fiction, and eventually fantasy.

My next big lurch I suppose was making plans to visit Sweden in 1969 in order to meet my pen friend.  I scrimped and saved every penny for almost a year, then boarded the train (to Montreal) and then a freighter that took a small number of passengers to sail to Oslo, Norway.  In May.  Across the Atlantic.

We stopped and jigged for cod off the coast of Newfoundland (I caught 3 - what can say, cod are pretty stupid), saw grey(?) whales on their migration north, managed the rough seas of a storm, and sailed up the fjord to disembark.

From there many adventures were experienced.

And then I finally paid attention to all the messages coming from...who knows where...to consider weaving.  

That was, most likely, the biggest, bravest (or stupidest, depending on your viewpoint) lurch I have made in my life.

Now I lurch, but only physically.  Dealing with a body rode hard, put away wet, far too many times.  The times I wove myself into exhaustion trying to meet deadlines.  The multitude of dark o'clock fights.  Battling food allergy reactions, pretending to be well, hiding my ailing body.  

There were many times I felt I'd let my students down and felt guilty.  All I could do was my best, and I always did that.  My best.

Recently a friend observed that I do more on a 'bad' day than most people do on a good one.  Well, maybe a few years ago that might be true.  Now?  Not so much.

But I always felt like I was...not enough.  My house is always a mess.  I haven't had the energy to actually clean it for, like, ever.  I turn a blind eye to the dust and clutter, and save whatever energy I have for weaving.

When my brother died I had to figure out why I was still here, and he wasn't.  That was the year that so many things finally made sense.  I'd been, almost literally, working myself into the grave.  It was the year that both Doug and I discovered our 'hidden' cardiac issues, and timely intervention was provided.  And here we are.  Older.  Maybe wiser (although that might be moot).

It's been a very long 16 years since Don died.  Honestly, it was, in many ways, a downward spiral, one I documented in my memoir, recently published, available here if anyone is interested.

And now I try to navigate a body that demands to rest.  To be 'coddled'.  Weaving is physical - at least the way I do it.  I have to ration my time at the loom so that my body doesn't go into complete shut down.

After months of searching for an answer, a treatment, something to let me continue to weave, it seems I may have finally found a treatment that will provide some level of, if not healing, coping.  

In the meantime, I have found a little more energy to do things I promised I would do - like get one of the guild's donation looms operating again.  I discovered, much to my chagrin, that I can no longer wind a 9 meter long, 15" wide, 20 epi warp in one session.  Halfway through I had to stop and rest.  Today I feel able to finish it, so I'm going to do that.  And then tomorrow, a guild member will help me beam it.  If I feel able, I will also thread it.  I was hoping to have it ready to weave on in time for the guild business meeting next week, but I may not make that goal.

In the meantime, I did manage to weave half a tea towel yesterday after fixing the threading error, and editing the treadling to better suit what I want to have happen.

Today the sun is shining and the temps are rising.  It would seem spring is set to arrive 'early' (for us).

Time to lurch into the studio and get myself in gear.



Friday, March 15, 2024

Still Not Perfect

 


The current series of warps are...complex.  

Today, after several days delay (due to physical maintenance and body protesting said maintenance) I finally started weaving the next warp.

I wasn't pleased with the beginning - sewing the hem would cut off part of the motif at the top and bottom, and I knew I wasn't going to be best pleased with that, visually.  But I thought I would complete the first towel, then change the treadling.

Until I got about 9" woven and spotted it.  Yup.  Threading mistake.

I had threaded 10-7 twice instead of 7-10 twice.  It wasn't really obvious while I was focused on other things - like making sure everything was working properly, fussing over the hems, etc., but once I spotted it, I couldn't *not* see it.

So, I cut it off, fixed the threading mistake and re-tied.  And, since I was starting over anyway, I edited the treadling sequence to create a 'proper' hem so that the motif would not be awkwardly chopped off.

And I thought about how several people over the years have told me that they can't wait until they get to the point where they don't make mistakes anymore.

Ha.  

Anyway, it's lunch time now, so I'm going to eat and then go back to the loom.  And this time I hope I don't find any more 'mistakes'...

Exchange Rates

 


So, yesterday I cashed a US $ cheque (payment for a recent Zoom presentation).  The teller informed me that the exchange rate was such that I was going to get a lot more Canadian money than the number written on the cheque.  I told her I was grateful I wasn't buying stuff from the US right now.  

Which reminded me - prices in my ko-fi shop are listed in Canadian dollars.  Which means, if you are in the US, the prices you pay are going to reflect a substantial exchange rate discount.

To make my life easier, the posted price includes a shipping amount.  If someone buys just one towel, that amount covers about half of the cost of shipping, which has more than doubled in the last few years.  If someone purchases two towels, that *nearly* covers the cost of shipping to the US, using the cheapest option available to me.  

In this day and age of 'free shipping', please understand that there is no such thing.  When I go to the post office, I do not get to ship parcels for 'free'.  I still have to pay the postage.  And for the envelope/box, the shipping tape, the labels.  I still have to drive to the post office and stand on line.  

'Free' shipping just means that makers, like me, frequently wind up subsidizing the cost of shipping.  So, when you look at the price a craftsperson/artist is charging, please be aware that part of that price is shipping.  The only thing 'free shipping' means is that we don't add on more money at the end of the purchase.  The price you see is what you pay.  And people like me sort out where the shipping portion goes, and hope there is some 'profit' to help pay for the materials, the power to keep the studio lights and laptop on, the heat in the winter and the a/c in the summer.  And the utilities (wet finishing all those textiles takes water and electricity, not to mention wear and tear on the washing machine and dryer, plus the press.) 

And then there are the care labels, the plastic stems to attach them (which I've lately not been doing for mail orders.)

If anyone is interested in the sorts of considerations that go into being a professional weaver, my memoir A Thread Runs Through It is also available via my ko-fi shop.  And if you are contemplating a career in the arts, you might find some of the lessons I learned of interest.

My other books are available here.  If you are in the US, blurb conveniently does the exchange rate for you and shows you the US $ price.  If you are in a different country, click on your flag (in the upper right hand corner on my desktop) to get your currency.

Thursday, March 14, 2024

Painful

 


Minimum input, maximum output.  

Coming to weaving with a background in movement (ballet, hap ki do, aerobics, track and field, etc.) weaving became an exercise in figuring how to do it with the least possible wear and tear on my body.

Over the years I fine tuned my movements, checked with professionals (physio, massage, dance instructors, etc.) to make sure I wasn't inadvertently causing myself an injury.  And then I began including ergonomic hints and tips during workshops when I would see people doing things that would lead to injury if continued over time.

I also listened to people talking at conferences.  Like the person who was about 20 years older than me, explaining that she had been on a tight deadline and had woven for hours and hours to get her project done in time and caused so much damage to her feet that she hadn't been able to walk properly for 6 weeks (never mind weave).  Carpal tunnel surgeries were another risk factor.  

When I hosted a well known weaver during her tour around BC I explained I had an early morning physio appointment and showed her the coffee and told her to make herself at home.  She asked if I had a bad back and I said yes.  She said every weaver has a bad back.

Given I was young (at the time) and wanted to weave for many more years, I began to really study ergonomics related to weaving in a more serious manner.

But not everyone wants my input on what they are doing.  There are times when my suggestions, such as sitting on a taller bench/stool, or encouraging people to thread/sley the way I do now (thanks to Norman Kennedy's workshop, and watching Syne Mitchell sley - which she learned from Peggy Ostercamp), or suggesting that people wear some kind of footwear, especially if they weave on a loom that requires a larger foot/pound pressure than a Scandinavian style loom, some people shrug and continue to do what they have always been doing.  "I learned to do it this way" they will sometimes say. 

Well, so did I, but I learned a way that was easier on the body and took the time to learn how to do it that way.

Not only it is friendlier to the body, but it's more efficient.  And I can do more with less effort.  Seems like a win-win to me, and well worth the awkward slippery slope at the bottom of the learning curve.

Now we have the internet and sites like Facebook and I see photos of weavers sitting at their looms.  And all too frequently I cringe.

Poor posture seems to be a continuous problem.  Backs curved, sitting on the coccyx instead of the sitz bone, shoulders hiked up around their ears, holding the shuttle overhand, thumb pointing downwards - the accepted symbol for 'bad'.  One weaver didn't seem able to throw their shuttle and it was entering the shed every which way, including upside down on one toss.

I asked if she would like to see how I threw the shuttle, explained what I was doing and why.  As I walked away I heard her grumble that she didn't know there was a 'right' way to hold the shuttle.

Eventually I stopped commenting on people's photos, or offering to demonstrate - unless I was being paid to do so.  Free advice is worth what you pay for it, right?

So I document what I do in The Intentional Weaver, which I hope will be around for a while so that newer weavers can find the information.  

The weaver who commented that 'all weavers have bad backs' is now in the weaving studio in the sky, along with many others.  Norman Kennedy is still around, but not teaching weaving much, as I understand it.  However his students continue to share the information (I count myself among them, even if it was only that one workshop I took with him).  Peggy Ostercamp has her series of books with all sorts of great hints, tips and information.

And I guess I will keep banging the drum for as long as I can.

If something you are doing hurts, stop doing it.  If you can't figure out a way to do it that doesn't hurt, then only do it *until* you hurt, don't push until that hurt turns into injury.  Much better to prevent injury than heal from it.

Just saying...

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Thoughts on Creativity

 


As I worked through the iterations for the 'matrix' series, I was always cognizant of the fact that somewhere, some place, some other weaver had likely stumbled upon this technique.  So, no, I don't claim that I 'invented' it.  What I did was build upon my knowledge and skills and step by gradual step, I wound up with something I was pleased with.  

The above photo is from early in the series as I was exploring the potential for moving the twill 'line' direction, here, there, trying it out virtually, then, when I felt I had something that would be pleasing, getting it into the loom, then wet finishing it.

Because you never really know the quality of the cloth until you wet finish it.

There are people who don't want to 'follow the rules' of weaving, which is their prerogative.  They don't like to create artificial limitations because they feel that hinders their creativity.  And that is their journey, and a perfectly valid one for them.

But it is not mine.

My preference is to do some mental 'weaving', considering this, that and the other options involved in bringing threads together to make cloth.  I do this with bobbin lace as well.  I'm pretty adventurous with bobbin lace, but I *always* have a plan - a 'pricking' - that I work from.  I may adjust on the fly.  I may ignore some rules, and adapt some things, sometimes.  But I am well aware that I am deviating from the 'rules'.  I also know that my deviations are not likely to be noticed by anyone other than a more skilled lace maker than I am.

Does this make me less creative than someone who throws all the 'rules' out the window?  Perhaps.  Does it make me the 'better' weaver?  Not necessarily.  

There are many roads one can choose.  I chose the path that seemed to fit me the best, given my intention to produce textiles for sale.  (Yes, I've sold bobbin lace items, but everything I'm making right now will be donated to the guild.  If it sells great, if it doesn't, it's fine.)

But to say that in order to be creative you have to throw out *all* the rules?  Seems to be just as rigid as those who say you *must* follow all of their rules.

I made my own choices.  I don't follow all of the 'rules' that were taught to me as a beginning weaver.  When something seemed to be hindering my progress, I thought the processes through and adjusted what I was doing.

So, no, I don't chain my warps.  I don't tie 'choke' ties every yard.  (I tie a few gathering ties, but they are not 'choke' ties.)  I don't have a plain weave structure at the selvedge, and I even have floats of up to 5 (sometimes more if the thread is fine enough) at the selvedge.

And yes, I wove on a loom with a dobby and fly shuttle and *still* called my textiles hand woven - because according to the Canadian legal definition of 'hand' woven, the AVL qualified.  (Each and every action of the loom must be initiated by the weaver.)

So, if you belong to a group that has hard and fast 'rules' about things, you might want to consider if all of those rules are applicable to you.  If not, figure out what is best for you and do that.

Because change one thing, and everything can change.


If you want to know how the matrix series came to be, I shared drafts in Stories from the Matrix, available here.

Monday, March 11, 2024

Endings, Beginnings

 


I cut the warp off the loom Saturday, then started beaming the next warp.  Given my aging body, I didn't push through and beam the entire warp in one day, but only did half, then finished beaming Sunday.  

Sunday was a bit of a 'full' day.  Given the new therapy appears to be helping (no instant cure, but tiny glimmers of improvement) I went up to the guild room where I worked on the 'antique' L model loom and with assistance from another guild member it now has new treadle cords as well as new cables for the shafts.  All I have to do now is wind a practice warp to check how well it is working.  The goal is to outfit the loom with all 12 shafts that came with the loom.  Or sell the beast once it is working.

Then I helped a new lace maker get her 3rd ever lace project started.

When I got home I set up to begin threading.  If you look closely you might be able to see the stick that I attach the bouts to in order to carry them up and over the back beam, then tape to the loom frame just behind the heddles for easy reach.  By the end of the day I had threaded nearly half of the warp.

The photo also shows the typing clipboard I use to park the threading.  As I thread each group of warp ends, I mark them off on the threading draft.  One of the nice things about Fiberworks is that you can choose the size of font to print the draft out in.  Now that I'm getting older, I'm finding it more difficult to focus on the smaller font I used to use, so now I magnify it for easier viewing.

There are two post-it notes on the castle.  On one I record the last pick I wove and the other keeps track of how many units I have woven.  With the Megado, I find I prefer to cut the web off after about 8 or so yards as the cloth beam becomes 'padded' and re-applying weaving tension after advancing the fell becomes more difficult.  My standard number of units is 7 towels, although I can push through to 8 if necessary.  

What isn't included in the photo is the lighting I use.  I have task lights - one at the right side of the loom, one at the left, and one at the back of the loom.  On grey dreary days, the one at the back helps illuminate the stick with the bouts, and the back few shafts which might otherwise be somewhat shadowed.

I have been working on this series for over a year and a half now.  This warp and one more will be the last I do - for the time being.  I may re-visit the technique in the future.  But for now I'm feeling the pressure to press on with stash reduction.  I've woven enough of my tea towel stash yarns that I'm  beginning to feel the pressure to tackle some of my other yarns.

It has been a bit of a relief to see 'holes' begin to appear on my shelves.  Nearly all of my boxes of yarn are empty now (still a few left, but those contain 'specialty' yarns, not frequently used).

As part of the studio clean up in November, I unearthed some more yarns I'd 'forgotten' about and I'd like to weave some of those up soon.  Plus my brand new fine singles linen which I'm itching to weave and see if it makes as nice a cloth as I'm expecting.

There are still projects on my to-be-done list that I'm feeling the pressure to do, too.  But everything seems to take so much longer now, I'm not sure when I'll get to those.  

Since the new therapy *does* seem to be helping, I am once again tending a tiny plot of hope.  Hope that I can keep weaving for a good long while.  But that is still to be determined, and in the meantime, I weave while I can, because I can, even if it means I have to take more frequent and longer breaks to let my body rest and recover.

This month marks the 49th anniversary of making the decision to quit my rather well paying job, at the time and throw my whole life into weaving.  Since this year also marks the death of my father, AND because much of the decision to change my life was sparked by his lengthy illness and death, I have been dealing with a lot of...feelings.

My father's death initiated my beginning as a weaver in more ways than I can express.

But that's the thing with living.  Things end.  People end.  But if we have the chance to go on, then, well, we must.  That was brought home to me again in 2008 when my younger brother unexpectedly and rather suddenly died.  Just over 16 years ago.  I had to work through 'survivor guilt' all while suddenly and unexpectedly needing to deal with my own health.

In the end, the only 'answer' I found for why I was still alive was this - my brother was dead, I wasn't.  Therefore I had to live my life to the fullest I could possibly manage.

Writing my 'memoir' last year also stirred up a lot of feelings, and I confess the past year has been difficult.  But I now have a local pain doctor, and a therapy 'team' that understands my need to keep weaving, and help me do that.  Ultimately, if this therapy is successful enough, I might even go back to teaching in person - locally only.

In the meantime, I love doing the Zoom presentations.  I have another this week.  And I love the fact I can still share what I know, still encourage others, stay in contact with far away friends. 

The truth is, I have very few 'local' friends - most of my 'friends' are far away.  And I count my blessings that I 'found' those far away friends as well as my 'local' friends.  Through the vehicle of the internet (including this blog) I feel connection with other like minded folk.  I feel part of a very large, albeit invisible, web.

The web of life.  The threads that we spin that allow us to stay connected.  The way we can encourage and support each other, the way we can continue to share and learn.

Every ending (bar the last and final one) ushers in a beginning.  

And so today I will finish threading the loom.  I hope to sley and tie on and maybe begin weaving tomorrow.  If not tomorrow (because I also have to set up and prepare for the Zoom Tuesday evening) I can begin weaving this week.

Onwards.  One step at a time.  One pick at a time.  One thread at a time.  Even if I do need naps to do it.