On Spinning

Recently, Ben and I went north to Golden Bay for a week of R&R. Since I like a wee project on these holidays, I chose spinning. I'm a sorry carder and a laughable spinner, so I don't know what came over me, but every few years I like to spend time making bad yarn. I aspire to make bad-but-interesting yarns I can use in the weft, but alas, this time, that wasn't to be. Still, every day for a week, after I cleaned the kitchen and Ben took position at his jigsaw puzzle table, I went to the sun room and spun for several hours. (I am not showing you anything, oh, no! They are really bad. Perhaps if I knit or weave something interesting, I might change my mind. Or, I need a picture to make you fall off your chair laughing, I'll think about it.)
I think I spin in the eternal hope I can make OK yarns without going through the rigor of learning spinning properly. As it is, I concentrate hard I'm completely in the "here and how", and/or inside the world of whatever fiction/podcast I'm listening to. I can't even think about weaving as I spin, but I do watch colors mix/mingle/combine right in front of me, in my hands, even more urgently than on the loom. It is a private, self-indulgent activity. 

I'm not even sure why I felt compelled to share this with you, but we all have those things not directly connected, yet not unrelated, to the real thing we feel deeply about, don't we? And at times, we need to retreat into our cocoons to... chill? reset? reboot, don't we? 
Now that I told you about my bad (and some OK) pottery, and bad spinning, let's make it a trifecta; one of the things Ben and I enjoy is badminton. But we were so bad, the first day we played we were laughing so hard we couldn't stand straight; the best we managed was three hits (?) back and forth. Not each. The second time we got up to maybe seven or eight. But the third time, we managed around 30 a few times, in between laughing, and the walking over to pick up the birdy 30cm away, and doing weird dances to entertain each other. So, hooray to a place in the woods where we could play bad-badminton.


Leigh said...

This is a timely post because I recently took a look at the ancient full bobbins on my spinning wheel and thought I needed to do something about them. Your spot in the sunroom is really inviting, as is the color of that roving! Do you use your handspun in your weaving?

There's something to be said doing things for the sake of doing rather than for perfection. I need to keep that in mind as I stumble along in my journey to re-learn weaving. (And spinning).

Laura Fry said...

I also spin - badly. And am ok with that. For now. My spinning friends shake their heads over me. :) Speaking of which I have two bins of blending board thingees that need spinning. Maybe soon?

Meg said...

"There's something to be said doing things for the sake of doing," is what I was rolling with, which is easier while one is on a holiday. :-D And no, I haven't used handspun in weaving, yet - as I wrote, I aspire to spin something "worthy", (i.e. bad but interesting?) to include in weaving. While trying to avoid falling down the rabbit hole of learning to spin properly. Cheeky!

Meg said...

Spin on, Laura!

I started thinking of spinning separate from weaving, which prevents me from panicking about my badness. :-D I have a few more unsmall bags of stuff I purchased for the purposes of spinning, plus Ben's former boss keeps giving me freshly-shorn pet Cheviot and Cheviot-cross fleeces every year. Coarse compared to merino and cashmere I'm used to, but the grease smells heavenly and the long fiber spins easily. I think they might suit large couch blankets and such. I don't weave rugs, but I think these are nice enough not to make something to be trodden on... Goodness, it's endless, this exploring stuff, even just in the tiny world of fibers.