Do you ever think of why we do this? I don't mean blogging, but art-making. Perhaps I'm haunted by self-doubt because I'm not compelled to make art, but I chose to. Instead of working in an office, instead of having a steady income, instead of going on nice holidays.
Tuesday-Thursday this week I was supposed to be in lock-down. On Tuesday, I fluffed around "thinking", "planning" and pacing until noon, and then I went downstairs. Fair enough, it was the first day, I forgive me.
Yesterday, I got up late and blogged and searched for Procion dyes on the Internet (you know I don't dye) until 1PM; that's the time I normally resurface for lunch. It was getting silly; this is clearly avoidance. I only wove one small scarf, and hated it. In fact I hate all three I wove this week and I thought I was done with this warp, but golly, I can get one more off it.
I had an order for a mint green/lime green cashmere scarf, so I put on my normal short (8-meter) warp in two pale minty greens, thinking I could try things with weft colors and treadling for Santa Fe or Red or the retail part of Refinery, another prospective Nelson outlet. The commission piece, with a lime green silk/cashmere weft, turned out lovely. But the next three, I avoided weft I would instinctively chose for this warp: pale baby blues, pale to mid greens, or pale oranges and yellows. Instead, I wove with indigo, which looks harsh, yellow green, which makes the whole scarf screaming lemon, and darkish lavender which looks a nondescript mid-crayon-blue. I chose them all carefully, but when woven as scarves, I don't find them attractive. Don't take my word for it, though; once Jay Farnsworth picked color combinations and I wove three from one warp, two of which was totally not my taste, but one of these she sold the day I delivered them. At least with her color combinations, I saw her point; I don't with these.
Luckily the last one, in muddy brick red/dark dirty orange, is looking good thus far, so I might not be so cranky later today. I finish the green warp, and move on to a luscious silk/cashmere warp in dark purple, a color I feel more confident with. And I got some preliminary drafting done for my cottons.
Santa Fe is way outside of little old Nelson; I don't know if I'm terrified of my world expanding so rapidly, or having to grow up as a weaver suddenly. I don't know if this is what Lynne calls risks, but I have been at my dilatory best.