WEFT

 

honeycomb - loom state

honeycomb - wet finished

Well, here we are - March 25.  As in, *nearly* April - and the debut of the magazine WEFT.

I've just spent the morning reading through 'proofs' (not sure that they are called that anymore - yes I'm *that* old!) and sending them back approved or corrections noted.

I'm excited to have this opportunity to continue to write about weaving and looking forward to this new addition, see how it grows.

In many ways I don't feel like I have much more to 'offer' than what I've been doing since the 1990s and first got onto the internet using a Free-Net portal (yes, including the electronic 'hand shake'!)

However, just writing the first few articles I've learned stuff.  Sometimes it is a sharpening of my focus, sometimes it's realizing I've gotten used to certain 'assumptions' that are sort-of correct, but not the entire picture.

(Amazing how the picture changes when you add a microscope!)

It is part of what continues to fascinate me about textiles.  How many times can a person take the same quality of yarn and make something 'new' and/or 'different'. 

Perhaps even 'original'?

OTOH, with the centuries that humans have been making textiles, the sophistication of the technology, even long before the age of 'computers', I don't know if some ancestor has done what I've done, previously.  So I give a nod to Elizabeth Zimmerman (knitter) who never claimed to have 'invented' anything knitting related, but would say instead that she had *un*vented something - as in she was pretty sure that someone at some time in history had likely done the exact same thing and she had only 'uncovered' it again.

With the fall last August and the slow recovery (it feels like, experts tell me I'm doing *really* well), I have been struggling with the rather huge change in my physical well being.  But it's been almost 7 months since I woke up - rather surprisingly - in Vancouver General Hospital sporting a rad new scar.  It was a pretty radical change on top of everything else I was dealing with, but eventually I had to stop being angry at what I'd lost, and grateful about what I was still able to do.  Much more slowly, much less energy to burn, but - still here.  Still weaving.

And - still learning.