When Plans Go Awry

There is a saying that if you want to make god laugh, tell her your plans.

I love plans.  I usually have lots of them.  Plan A, then B, C, D for when Plan A doesn't go as, well, planned.

This year (as so many before) has not entirely gone as planned.  There has been much backing and forthing, much re-thinking, much delay.  It's always this way, at least for me.  When I look back on my life, it has rarely gone according to plan.  Or at least, not without a great deal of 'waltzing' - two steps forward, one step sideways.

I am about to leave again on another trip and I had certain things I really wanted to accomplish before I left.  Instead the Universe has informed me that what I wanted and what I was going to be able to accomplish were two completely different things.  Again.

Since making the decision to shut down my business it has been a mad scramble to make room for a new loom, while deciding on how to re-arrange the studio, shift boxes and bins from pillar to post - repeatedly.  I have managed to get rid of some things, but others are still waiting to be re-homed.  Somewhere.

I found myself driven to complete another writing project which quite literally was taking up easily 5 hours a day at the end, in no small part because I could tell I was really close to finishing so then I wanted to 'get 'er done' and powered through.  But while I was at the keyboard, I wasn't in the studio.

Then the Megado arrived and we set to putting it together.  Well, Doug did, mostly.  We ran into a snag on Friday - you know, the Friday before a long weekend?  Seems like a theme running through my life - let's knock the wheels off Laura's cart on the Friday before a long weekend!

Jane Stafford and her staff, and Dave from Louet are doing everything they can to get things sorted out but it IS the Labour Day weekend and Dave is out of town.  He phoned to assure me that he would be on it when he gets home.  Ultimately it's disappointing, but on the other hand?  I really should have been weaving on the Fanny because I'm way behind where I *planned* to be in terms of production for the craft fairs.  You know, Plan A, which got derailed by other things.

I'm incredibly low on inventory and distracting myself with a writing project that may never see light of day was absolutely NOT what I should have been doing between NC and the up-coming trip.  And yet, here I am.

So once we put the loom assembly on hold yesterday, I puttered in the studio, trying to get some of the rubble dealt with.  Doug and I discussed a different layout for the work table and while I'm away he will modify the table so that it fits better in the new spot.  Ultimately it will make more room to move around and beaming warps on the Megado easier.

Four more months.  By the end of December, I will have completed the obligations I have for the business.  I have agreed to hang onto the annex until the end of January, with an option of perhaps the end of February, depending on whether or not I can get my foot 'fixed' in December.  I plan on having at least six weeks recovery time, which means I need to do everything possible before the surgery in terms of moving things from the annex here and trying to get the studio organized for 'retirement' activities.

If nothing else I have learned over the years that plans should never be written in stone.  That I should always remain flexible for when things go awry.  Sometimes my original plan isn't the best thing I ever thought of and being forced into reconsidering isn't always a bad thing.

I would love to have a functional 'easy' button, but Life isn't Easy.  Accepting that things may not turn out as planned, as hoped, and to be willing to reconsider is actually a good thing.  Like realizing that the spot the work table has been in for about 35 years is now not the best place.  Because things have changed.  And now Plan B will actually be better than staying 'stuck' with the idea that because the table has always been in a certain place it has to stay there.

Like being forced to stop working on one project and focusing on what I need to be doing instead.

Like allowing myself space to do other things because pretty soon I won't have the production treadmill to always take priority. 

Like not beating myself up because I wrote instead of wove.  Because it doesn't really matter if I don't get everything done right this second. 

Like not knowing what 2020 will bring, not having a calendar full of teaching obligations to work on and have income from teaching - in person.

Like considering things that are not efficient to weave because earning an income from selling my textiles will not be my priority going forward.

Like being somewhat apprehensive of how it is all going to work out, but accepting that Life is like that - no guarantees. 

Like reminding myself that I'm still alive and it's ok to be 69 and not in the best of health so retirement is definitely A Good Thing.

Like being encouraging and supportive of my friends and colleagues in their endeavours. 

It is the end of August.  There are four months left in this year.  And then I will shut my business down and then?  Who knows.  It is time for change.  While making the decision was not easy, it was time.  So for the first time in a very long time, I actually have no plans.  I have options.  Some I may pursue, some I may not.  And that's ok, too.

Experience

The whole is greater than the sum of the parts.

Each of the categories outlined in the above diagram may seem insignificant on their own, but taken together, represent how each of them affects and enhances the final cloth.

Experience is like that.  Experience is the sum of our life to this particular point in time.  We have made decisions and learned from them.  (Good decisions are just one way of discovering when we come closer to our goal - bad decisions lead to results we didn't desire!  Either way, you're learning and gaining experience...)

There is a meme on line that says that masters have made more mistakes than their students have even contemplated.

I tell my students that I am there to share all of my mistakes and let them know it is ok for them to make mistakes because that is how we fast track our learning.

As adults, people think they shouldn't make mistakes.  But one of my mentors always greeted me (and others) by asking what mistakes I had made since we last met.  That mistakes were how we learned.

So yes, even adults make mistakes.  What we need to do is not beat ourselves up because we made a mistake, but learn from it (them, because we will make many!)

Some people learn more quickly than others.  Some are timid about making a mistake so are reluctant to even try.  In order to help people be braver, I try to put it all into perspective - it's just string.  Some of it may be more expensive than other yarns, but it's still just string.  Whatever we may have spent on the yarn we are working with, we can always replace it, sometimes with something else because our first mistake may have been choosing a yarn that was inappropriate for our intended result.

Don't be afraid to make mistakes.  Sometimes the lesson is to not do that again.  Sometimes it is just data gathering, trying something to see if you are on the right track.  Sometimes it takes a few (quite a few) runs at it to get the desired results.

Some people don't like sampling because it is a 'waste of time'.  Then make functional samples.  A scarf can be a full sized sample.  So can a tea towel.

Make things.  Lots of things.  Learn from each warp.  Embrace the knowledge that comes with trying something new.  Trying something knew and 'failing'. 

Acquiring knowledge is not a waste of time.  Gaining experience comes with learning.  The more experience, the more easy it becomes to make decisions based on that foundation of knowledge. 

Yes, I do still sample.  Each new-to-me yarn will get sampled, one way or another. 

Mastery is not being 'perfect'.  Mastery is learning to recognize a mistake when you make it, know when to invest more time in fixing it, or cutting your losses and starting over.  Because sometimes it's better to just begin again, knowing what you did and what to avoid the next time.

Little by Little part ???

I'm beginning to feel like 'little by little' is my new mantra!

Doug started to assemble the loom but one of the things I wanted to do was add more heddles.  I had a pretty good idea that doing that before the loom was completely assembled would be A Good Idea, so this afternoon we started increasing the number of heddles on each shaft.

It isn't that Louet is stingy - it's just that I tend to weave with fairly fine(ish) yarns (not as fine as some, but still) and I'm not exactly sure where my new 'leisure' time is going to take me in terms of rabbit holes.  I've woven lots of tied weaves and while the loom comes with extra on shafts one and two, some tied weaves have four shafts for the ties.  Thinking ahead to possibly weaving at 36" wide with perhaps more than 32-36 epi, I thought it might be good to beef up the numbers on the first four shafts.

Since I also love fancy twills, there is a good chance that I might go further down the road that direction.  I've seen some really interesting things happening with colours and networked threadings, some deflected double weave, something christened Corris (by Margaret Coe - might need to find out more) plus I have Bonnie Inouye's workshop notes with lots of intriguing possibilities there.

So I ordered extra heddles, and today between the two of us, we managed to increase the number of heddles from 100 to 150 on shafts 1 and 2, 50 to 150 on shafts 3 and 4, and from 50 to 100 on the rest.

I'm pretty sure that will take me down any rabbit hole I decide to dive into!  But just in case, I have some extras...

However, I have also been warned that the Megado doesn't like to have 'extra' heddles bunched at the ends of shafts so I'm going to have to remember to intersperse any extras along the width of the cloth.

The Megado has many things in common with the AVL.  It also has many things that are different.  Both looms came as 'flat packs' (so to speak) and Doug is worrying away at the assembly, routinely consulting the instruction manual.  So far it's been pretty straight forward.  But he isn't rushing and that's fine by me.

The Fanny is now re-positioned and hopefully tomorrow I can clear enough of the work table off to rough sley the next place mat warp.  There are two warps wound, just waiting to get put into the loom.  I've worried away at some of the administriva.  The next writing project is in the able hands of my editor.  Packing for the next trip needs to happen, but otherwise?  I might actually feel like weaving on the weekend. 

And for those wondering, I do cut my heddles apart.  Did that on the AVL, and the shafts are 'tight' enough on the Megado that cutting them apart is going to make threading much easier, especially for any tied weave that I decide to explore.  I will also be writing on the top of the bottom shaft in at least three locations the number of the shaft.  I found this most helpful in threading the AVL with 16 shafts.  The shafts are so much closer and tighter fitting in the loom on the Megado, I'm definitely going to need a visual aid to keep track of the shafts in order to minimize errors.  The shafts aren't very thick, but should be thick enough to write a number on them.  Probably slanted orientation, not straight, just to further help me see them.

Snip, Snip

I have been saying for years that I wanted, I needed to downsize.  When events in my life moved me to go from saying it to actively doing it, I expected to have some feels about it.  And I do.  Just not as much angst as I really expected, honestly.

This year has been pivotal in terms of making life changing decisions.  I was fully ready to do some of them; others?  Not so much. 

I wish the timing of some of the changes had been different, but on the whole, I am finding I am ready, more than ready, to cut some things out of my life.

Doug has been a rock, helping shift and move things from pillar to post.  Offering to make things.  Re-purposing what we already have.  My back won't tolerate the lifting of heavy boxes any more so we have been able to get assistance from a young fellow who can help Doug.  Yesterday they moved the large air compressor that ran the air assist for the AVL out of the studio and into the carport.  Doug will be offering that for sale in the coming days.

Someone will be coming to look at the industrial sewing machine.  If he wants it his sons will no doubt help carry that up and out.  We have had a nibble about the industrial steam press, but getting it to the interested party might be a deal breaker.  Time will tell.

Without my doing very much at all some of the AVL parts have been selling.  Once the dust settles we will do an inventory of what is left and see if there is any interest.  The loom frame was given to a young couple who make toys for children. 

But this week I find myself ready to start cutting other things from my life.  Yesterday I wrestled with the administrivia of any business - the books.  With just four more months of business to run, it was a real struggle to sift through receipts, enter the income/expenses into my ledger and try to balance my chequebook.  After feeling pressured by outside influence to shut my business down - and resenting it because I wasn't ready - I suddenly found myself more than ready to see the end of doing this kind of task.  I'd been faithfully doing this for 4 decades plus.  Four more months.  I think I'm ready.

I also found myself ready to stop doing other things that had been a large part of my weaving life.

Snip, snip.  I am cutting away the things that no longer bring me joy (some of it never did bring joy but were necessary!)

Marie Kondo got a lot of flak over her suggestion to get rid of anything that doesn't bring you joy.  I think she has been spot on.

Currently reading The American Agent by Jacqueline Winspear

It's Here!!!!!

Oh my goodness!  It's here!!!   Or will be, between 9 and 11 am tomorrow.  And we are so not ready.

I was wondering what I would use to distract myself from working in the studio today.  Seems I'll be finishing the clutter removal so that the boxes can be brought in. 

Yikes...

Warped

Before there can be a woven textile, there must be a warp.

A warp is the peak of all possibilities.  It holds the promise of the cloth it will become.  It sets the tone in terms of colour and texture.  It can be modified, but - unless it is weft faced - the warp will be part of the landscape, so to speak.  Even when it is invisible, it is still there, the backbone of the fabric.

The word 'warped' has so many meanings in English.  Many of the meanings can be related to weaving or not related at all.  So many textile words are used now to convey similar but different meanings. 

Computers grew, in some measure, out of weaving so perhaps it is not surprising so many weaving words were co-opted by computer technology.  Others were adopted by those in the space industry, still more by physics.

Ask a child today what a shuttle means and you are most likely going to hear about a shuttle taking passengers back and forth from the mall or the airport.  Ask a physicist about strings and no doubt you'll hear about string theory.  Or the fabric of the universe.

Fairy tales frequently use spinning or weaving as vehicles to hang the moral of the tale on.

Weavers blithely use the phrase that 'you have to be warped to weave' and purposefully use the word play of one of the other meanings of the word 'warped' while knowing that you really do have to get your loom 'warped' before you can weave fabric. 

Today I finished the first draft of my latest writing project.

I confess that I have been using the project as a way to procrastinate about what I am supposed to be doing:  warping my loom.  Instead I have been pounding the keyboard working on a project that I have little confidence that anyone will actually purchase.  On the other hand, I've got pretty close to 70 hours or more invested in it to this point.  I emailed the file to my editor and will let her decide if it's worth investing her time (and my money) into getting it honed into shape.  It's not a weaving book, although it's about weaving.  It's not a technical book, although it's not entirely without reference to technical issues.

Part of me became obsessed about getting it written and - if I was going to do it - I needed to get it done while I was still feeling the imperative to finish it.  I needed to do as I so often do - just sit down and start pounding the keyboard until I figured out what I was actually trying to say.

This time it wasn't a blog post, though, it's...a much bigger scale.  As of right now, it's 122K words.  That number may vary on what Ruth advises - cut?  Or add?  Or both?

I needed to write it out of my head or there wasn't going to be room in there for anything else.  And I really wanted to clear it out of my grey matter because as of today, the Megado is making its way across Canada.  I'm hoping to get an estimated day of arrival tomorrow.  I need a deadline to finish re-arranging the studio and I've been on tenterhooks, waiting for when the loom would arrive.

Tomorrow the Fanny and the ceiling mounted warping valet should be re-positioned.  I have two more place mat warps ready to go, and mumble mumble rayon chenille warps.  I have more yarn combinations pulled ready to wind more rayon chenille scarf warps, and then they can start getting put into the Fanny, too.

I also need to pack for my visit to Mary in early September.  I have too many threads, all tugging me in different directions.  My focus and sense of purpose is being constantly warped and instead of accomplishing anything in the studio, I've been seduced by the siren call of the thoughts tangled in my mind.

Hopefully now that I've done the first draft, I can set that project aside while Ruth does her editing magic, and I can get back to weaving. 

Wish me well on getting back on track...and warped...

Value/Worth

I am in the midst of another writing project.  Yeah, I know, I have so much time on my hands, why not spend an hour or two a day pounding the keyboard???

The project may never see light of day, but it has been an interesting exercise to rummage in the dark corners of my memory and try to set down my journey through this life.  I have made fair progress and this...obsession...with writing down what I remember doesn't seem to be going away.  In fact I spent several hours on planes poking at my ipad in the Note app adding more to my story.

I'm up to the early years of establishing myself as a designer/weaver and teacher with the writing starting to happen in various ways - teaching handouts, newsletter person for the guild and so on.

This morning a n exchange between a couple of people showed up on my Twitter feed.  Someone published a knitting pattern and it was being promoted when someone commented that they would wait until the pattern showed up on a free site.  The original poster asked why the second person wouldn't just buy the pattern and support an indy designer.  The second person lol'd and said that she'd get it for free from someone who bought it because once that person had purchased the pattern, it could be shared with anyone.

This back and forth reflected so much of what was going on 45 years ago in so many ways.  The attitude that as a weaver it was a hobby so I didn't deserve to get paid.  As a woman, I was being supported by my spouse so didn't need to make any money.  That my textiles could be copied and then the copier could replicate my design and sell it themselves.  That I was charging way too much money with the unstated 'who do you think you are, asking for so much money?'

There were other observations such as, well, you love what you do, so you shouldn't ask for money.  Or people would comment that they could make it themselves.  Or that a tea towel shouldn't be so expensive, I was charging too much, I'd never sell tea towels for the price I was asking.

The variations were pretty much endless, and at times felt relentless.

My initial reaction was to be highly indignant and offended.  Eventually I came to realize that what the comments were actually saying is that the person saying them had limited means and in many cases simply could not afford to buy my textiles.  It took a long time but I came to realize that their lack of financial resources was not my problem.

Their lack of respect of my skills, talents, and flat out courage to bring my ideas and product to the marketplace did rankle and I had to find a way to cope with such comments.

The first thing I did was never drop my prices.  I had to stay firm in knowing what I needed in order to keep my business viable, pay for the costs of the business, purchase materials and all the supporting things that were required, like care tags, market my work (booth fees and the travel to get to the shows, shipping product to my outlets), put food on the table and keep a roof over my head, and so on.

For me weaving was not a hobby, it was not something to 'keep you busy', it was my work, my job, my career.

The term 'starving artist' is used because it is in so many ways an accurate depiction of what the vast majority of creative people experience - lack of funds beyond the bare necessities.  Yes, we do it because we love it.  But in this society we also need to keep body and soul together.  People say that artists do their art as a 'side hustle' while they work other jobs so shouldn't charge so much, when in reality their 'day' job is the side hustle that allows them to do their creative work.

For many years my income was well below the poverty line.  My goal in life was to earn enough money that I actually paid income tax.  I was to meet that goal, but I was never much beyond the minimum income.

So eventually when someone would come into my booth, fondle my textiles and then say that my prices were too high, I would smile, nod and quietly say "I understand about limited income."

I had to refuse to make their financial issues my problem. 

At one point I joined a large guild in order to participate in their annual autumn sale.  When I arrived, my textiles were divided up and put into the appropriate 'departments'.  The textiles were categorized and scarves put with scarves, tea towels with tea towels and so on.

During the set up, several guild members came to quietly explain to me that my textiles would never sell at the price I was asking.  I thanked them and said that if they didn't sell at the sale there, I could sell them at those prices at home.  It was not a boast, it was true.  At home I had been weaving for a long time and had established a reputation for producing good quality.  People knew that my textiles did not wear out in a year or two, but lasted for a long time.

At the end of the sale I collected my textiles, and a few weeks later my payment arrived in the mail.  And the following year I was interested to note that some of the same guild members who cautioned me about not selling my textiles at my price?  Were raising their prices.  By the time I stopped doing that show, I wasn't the highest priced anymore, the guild members had finally begun to value their textiles and were putting more appropriate prices on their work.  And the public was buying it.

As weavers in the 21st century, we need to understand what it is we are selling:  our designs, our creativity, our colour sensibilities and our cloth.  If we don't value what it is we do, why should anyone else?

So purchase the pattern.  Make it possible for good designers to keep producing more good designs.  Support your local artisans.  Pay your teachers a decent amount.  Buy their books.  If you can't afford their books, request your guild library purchase them and provide reviews to your social media.

Value knowledge and respect it's worth.