Kelly R is my own personal Typhoid Mary when it comes to fiber crafts. Not only is she an knit enabler of the highest order, but she is also a kind of pusher of fiber gateway drugs, like Circular Sock Machines, Large Drop Spindle Collections, and most recently, to weaving.
Weaving has not historically done much for me, you understand. I am a devoted knitter because I suffer from an urgent need to have. that. sweater. Sweaters and knitwear of all kinds just push my covet button and before you know I cast on for the latest passion. I knit as a form of aquisition. Weaving on the other hand seems to only make stuff like funky placemats and wall hangings that look like hippie housewares, up there on my "no thanks" list with macrame plant hangers for multiplying spider plants, 8 track tapedecks, and yellowing photo collages under glass.
Obviously I haven't been looking in the right places.
Kelly fired up her new little Cricket last week and made in a single day a very respectable scarf. I thought that was kind of interesting, and certainly fun, but still, a little simple for my taste. I have — you understand — in the back of the stash a yard sale new-in-the-box rigid heddle loom from the late 70's that cost me all of $5. It's there — the thinking goes — for when all of the kids are off to college and I have time for one more fiber craft in my life, maybe. But I thought about it briefly, did a little clicking around, and found a really lovely photo on Amy King's site of a kit she sells to make this:
Oh, I could feel the resistance muscles a-flexing, perhaps in futility. But then, a few clicks later, I stumbled upon something called tablet weaving. I have this project on Michael Wormspit's blog to blame thank:
Want. Acquisition button activated. (technically this is brocade, and not for tablet beginners, but heck, if I want to get to Paris, I have to get on a boat, right?)
The following 24 hours is mostly a blur, but all I can tell you is that I cannibalized a perfectly decent set of playing cards, threaded up some sock yarn I thought I could sacrifice,
and then I put it on the yard sale loom I have: it's not much to look at, but kept the whole mess organized and portable.
and came out with about 13 inches of a finished experiment that now has me thinking about replacing every long and narrow textile I have in the house.
So what does one do next? Weave another, of course!