Women are spinners and weavers. We are the ones who spin the threads and weave them into meaning and pattern.
Like silkworms, we create those threads out of our own substance, pulling the strong, fine fibres out of our own hearts and wombs.
It’s time to make some new threads. Time to strengthen the frayed wild edges of our own being and then weave ourselves back into the fabric of our culture.
Women can heal the Wasteland.
We can remake the world.
This is what women do.
This is our work.
~ Sharon Blackie ~
An excerpt from “If Women Rose Rooted”
I was always super intimidated by weaving – labour intensive setting up, measuring and calculating and generally planning and counting. Then my mum bought me a rigid heddle loom and I realised, I didn’t ‘have’ to measure everything. Most of my weaves are based on the restrictions of the loom itself and the length of my room. which is plenty big enough for a wearable item.
“Just as no two human beings are identical, no two cloths woven by different people can be identical. Yet, they are connected by a shared life force, which cannot be measured or compared.”
This is what gets me up in the morning at the moment. Contemplating being a bit more adventurous with the warp. Thinking it was meant to be predominantly blue, but seems to be reflecting the landscape during my cold January walks. Weaving is tricky enough to feel good when you get it ‘right’, compromising when it’s not perfect. And it requires time and patience. It helps as I try to heal my nervous system after a few months of stress and uncertainty. I want to go slow and trust myself to make a body of work, to deepen my practice and understanding. To rest within the making process and to feel inspired again.