Well, I’ve discovered something. At the beginning of the year, I set a goal of moving my loom to a new space in the house in the hopes that it would inspire me to warp the thing and get weaving. After moving it, I found I was even less inclined to want to warp it.
I have been vacillating over the last two years, trying to decide whether to get rid of the loom. Since moving the loom, my decision became solid. An opportunity presented itself … my friend Jody is opening a new antique store and she thought it would make an interesting piece … and I took it.
Erik, Young Son and I moved the loom to Jody’s store last night. Coming home to a room devoid of the loom was an absolute relief. All I can think is that it is no longer looming over me. (Yes, that pun is intended.)
I have moved beyond wanting to use a big piece of machinery to make things, preferring, instead, to make smaller items by hand. The growth of an artist.
(Too bad Young Son didn’t mention wanting a nine-yard kilt until we had moved the loom. He could have persuaded me to teach him how to weave. Perhaps we’ll have to buy him one of these.)