Weaving Beginnings

Still here. Still alive. Life and work just got in the way. In fact, I haven’t done much of any fiber-ing since end of June, so I really have nothing to report here. One of these days, when I have time to work through them, I’ll post pictures from Complex Weavers Seminars and the Complexity Exhibit.

My favorite aunt has been in town the past few weeks. Tonight, we were just sitting around and chatting when I asked her about one of her boyfriends from when I was growing up.

Why is this significant?

I told her that it was the visit to his family home that set me down the path as weaver. I remembered that he lived by the seaside and we went out for a weekend. It was before I started kindergarten so I must have been around 4 or so. I remember “swimming” amongst the fishing boats, with the boyfriend holding me up in the water as he swam. That was scary and fun.

But what I remembered most was the big giant loom in the living room. I remember sitting in their living room, completely in awe of this machine and knowing that one day, I want to do THAT. How big was the loom in realty? I have no idea. I was 4. What sort of loom? I have no idea. I just remembered thinking “YES! I WANT!” To this day, I can still picture the room, the loom, and that sense of awe. Vividly.

I’ve shared this story with weaving friends, my guild, but I never told anyone in my family about this, never mind the aunt that made this happen. I’m glad I had a chance to do so.

What’s your weaving story?

One thought on “Weaving Beginnings”

  1. I don’t recall seeing people weave until I visited Chimayo, NM, in my early 20s. The weavers were all muscular young men, rocking out to heavy metal, and throwing the shuttles and slamming the beaters with high energy.

Comments are closed.