The threading looks, for something I made up as I went, alarmingly symmetrical and I'm still contemplating editing. The warp is an Australian merino, very fine, originally gray dyed with Blenheim walnut husks and no mordant. The texture proved to be the biggest problem.
The commercial 17/2-ish merino in the weft has the most familiar cushiony feel; this yarn is always a winner. My handspun single creates an uneven feel, in place cushier, but in place, stringier, just as I expected but this is the first time I experimented with a handspun single. I'm glad I guessed right but now have a sample. After a day of touching and feeling, it's become fairly fuzzy and I don't know what the long-term use will do. I'm not a serious spinner so while I think it makes an interesting piece, I hesitate to weave this to sell. But the big surprise was the cashmere: the cashmere is airy and soft, of course, which makes the warp feel coarse, in parts particularly bad but overall uncomfortable in comparison. Made into a piece, it's not going to be a concern, but when one has a sample with a better option, one does want to make the best possible piece, every time, doesn't one? Strange and totally unexpected result!
So instead of happily weaving all day, I carried the sample around all day not knowing which way to go.
At the same time, when you get to talking with people who operate arty shops around New Zealand, one is taken somewhat seriously as a maker when one's outlet includes, (or in my case, the only place is,) the Suter. (The above pic was after I sorted and folded my stuff. You can see my tag had fallen off; I found it stuck on the shelf to the left, but it's not a good look. I must peel off the white tack next time.)
After the permanent Suter reopened and the new manager arrived, the piece was never displayed and when I inquired, she said she preferred it out of the bag. To be sure, the new manager is a lovely smiley person, but her, and the gallery's, focus is completely different from Andrea's, (who had the knack of making many of us feel any one of us was her one favorite maker.) When I went back last week to enquire, the manager said she couldn't find the gray piece, and could I wait a few days to check the inventory list on the computer; I had to put my foot down and ask her to check right away, mentioning it was the delicate piece, so she relented, and it turned out the piece was sold.
Still. It's not a situation that instills confidence, is it? I'm preaching to the choir, I know, and she/they have their reasons, but no more super fine pieces there, at least for a while. (Which is not a big problem because some of mine look delicate but are robust.)
I want to post about food but that'll be another day. Tomorrow Mom and I are going to collage together over Skype.