"Why I Weave Cloth" by Meg Nakagawa

OK, not "guest" but here goes.

I've always liked to make things, out of paper to begin with, using copious amounts of glue and tape, and magic markers. But I didn't like anything "freehand", like drawing, painting, or even collage. Whatever I made never met my expectations, nobody trained me in ways I would have learned, and I didn't know how to practice on my own. But I did like assembling shapes and colors.

I don't remember much of what I made, but I remember a pair of paper slippers that disintegrated in one afternoon, and several vehicles and machines using rubber bands or strings. I liked learning about and fine-tuning the "hidden" mechanism, my mother was a wonderful ally in this area.

When I was a little older Mom got me on to crocheting, embroidery, knitting, sewing and this thing with a spool with a few nails and a pin which allowed me to make long, circular ropes. I liked crocheting and I thought I was inventing stitches; I liked embroidering, especially making up the designs, (and once came up with big, bold floral designs unlike any in the books, the one and only time I received some recognition in Fifth Grade Home Ec.) I could never knit with even tension, and though I loved the 3D modeling of sewing I was never good on the machine, and I hadn't the patience to practice either. And the rope thing: I loved carrying the little plastic spool everywhere and "inventing" new ways of incorporating multiple yarns or skipping stitches, but one afternoon I suddenly didn't see the point of making a multi-colored rope with a mishmash of colors and stitches, (which by this time had grown to over seven meters,) and I never touched the thing again.

When I was even older, I discovered needlepoint, (loved designing,) print making, (loved the mechanism, hated the having-to-come-up-with-the-picture part,) photography, (liked and even showed marginally more patience to learn and improve, I used to print my B&W's,) and writing.

Writing was the only thing I maintained a sustained interest and put some effort into learning and improving, but I found editing difficult; by the time I took out the overly flowery descriptions, say draft 3, my stories became telegraphic and sounded the same except for the progragonists' names, places and predicaments. I didn't know how to edit and, well, I ended up with a bunch of possibly-interesting synopses.

I also went into Ikebana, Japanese floral art, with gusto and this was one area extreme editing worked well; I'd often ended up with truly Wabi-Sabi work where most everything was absent but implied. They were my visual Haiku.

All the while my mother knitted and knitted and knitted. When I was, I think, in junior high, I asked her why she liked to knit so much, (especially because I thought embroidery was more attractive,) she said she liked making the cloth/fabric with knitting as opposed to "mere" embellishments with embroidery, and that if she had the choice she would rather be weaving. This would have been in the early/mid 70's when weaving/looms weren't readily available to hobbyists in Japan, so she would have had to enroll in art school or become an apprentice somewhere, not "doable" for an ordinary mother of three back then. Though I still preferred the delicacy and ornateness of embroidery, it gradually lost its lure, and I came to think weaving as the highest form of craft.

It was another quarter of a century before I passes a shuttle for the first time. I found the interlacement taking place in front of my eyes intriguing. I loved the simplicity of the mechanism of cloth and looms.  Then it was all about the interaction of colors, and then came the-whole-being-much-greater-than-the-sum-of-its-parts aspect. Wet-finishing also fascinated me. 

The year was 1995. I first purchased my rigid heddle and read from books and on the Internet what weaving was all about. As I learned more about wet finishing, I decided weaving suited me better as there was a limited amount of editing/culling one could do in a given project, and once I've reached that point of no return, moving on was the only path left. Weaving cured me from constantly wishing to do over and reinvent myself. To some extent. Or, to put on my Malapropping shoes, weaving has grounded me somewhat and slowed down my destination addiction.

I like working within the confines of weaving. I feel comfortable being restricted by the number of shafts, peddles, legs and arms. I like combining yarns, colors, textures and weaving patterns. To me, weaving is assembling more than free-hand art, and I can handle that.

Initially, writing and all other interests were only put on the back burner, but as I got into weaving more and more, I gradually gave most everything else up. Some of the partings were conscious and even hard; some I just forgot. I still have a love/hate relationship with writing, unable to completely put it behind, but for now becoming a good weaver is more important, and I'm happy for writing to take a back seat.   

Nowadays, I don't think of why I weave as often as I used to; I just wonder if I can make this or that kind of cloth with the knowledge and equipment I have, what a certain idea, in my head or on paper/computer, looks like in real life, or to reduce my enormous stash. And because I find weaving difficult to do well, it requires my full concentration, and I am allowed, (required!) to switch off all the voices in my head. I find this comforting.

There is one last thing that is important to me: I find comfort in belonging to that long, wide and varied tradition/club/subset of humans that weaves. I do see the world, at times, in two distinctive groups; those who weave and those who don't. I can't think of any other technology that our species has sustained, more or less in the same manner across time and distance, which makes me feel part of something really big. As are you.

"Why do I weave cloth?" by Peg Cherre

Why do I weave? Let me count the reasons.

• I weave because when I took a series of six beginning weaving classes, I fell in love with the process.
• I weave because after those classes I bought an old, handmade counterbalance loom that, although it needed lots of TLC to be functional again, came with this little poem taped to the top roller bar.

My simple pleasures

my gentle joys

weave a lovely pattern

of contentment in my life.

• I weave because I’m a person who’s easily bored, and with weaving there’s never-ending variety of fibers, of patterns, of looms, of techniques.
• I weave because my hands won’t allow me to do hours of knitting or crochet without pain.
• I weave because I like (almost) every step of the process, from planning to measuring the warp, beaming that warp, threading heddles & reed, hemming on the loom, weaving, and finishing. (I do dislike tying to the front apron, and wish I had a little elf who’d do that for me while I slept, or weeded the garden, or made dinner, or did almost anything else.)
• I weave because my part-time paycheck job doesn’t cover all my expenses, and living in this rural area I needed to add something of my own making.
• I weave because I get terrific feedback from people at shows, whether or not they buy something from me.
• I weave because I love the fact that there’s a very clear beginning, middle, and end to each piece, unlike much of my professional work in the not-for-profit world or my practical work of cooking, cleaning, and laundry.
• I weave because I’ve met some really wonderful, encouraging, motivating, and helpful people, both in real life and online.
• I weave because I love fabric.
• I weave because I’ve gone through sewing, knitting, crocheting, embroidery, macramé, and other fiber-related endeavors all my life. Weaving is my current joy.
• I weave because now I own two floor looms & a rigid heddle loom – much more of an investment of time & space than a bunch of knitting needles.
• I weave because I have an excuse for continuing to buy dozens of cones of yarn.
• I weave because I like the physical nature of the tasks. It keeps my arms and legs moving, as well as my brain.
• Bottom line – I weave because it makes me happy.

Peg Cherre

"Why do I weave cloth?" by Vicki Allen

I want to create for myself interesting patterns and see how they work. I want to understand the interlacement of warp and weft and the interaction of color by creating for myself a tangible fabric.

I enjoy the challenge of figuring out how a structure works and how to set up what I envision on the loom. I like working through all the little challenges that come up when weaving due to differences in yarn and mechanical problems.

Weaving engages my interest from the time I see a fabric someone is wearing that excites my curiosity, or see a weave pattern in a book or magazine that makes me look twice, to the final result of a piece that I can hold, feel, drape, share and just enjoy looking at!

I want to have a piece of fabric in my hand that I can touch and talk about and that I can show to someone else and share with them the idea that caught my imagination.

I weave to create for myself; to experience exactly what is happening when the threads interact and the pattern appears pick by pick. I love to hold the finished piece and experience the excitement I felt when I first saw the diagram… but now it is made real.

I have tried my hand at writing, painting, macramé, beading, sewing, knitting, crochet, lucet cord making, inkle weaving, bead weaving, ceramics, music making (piano, flute, bowed psaltery), needlepoint and embroidery and gardening.
My mother tried everything that caught her eye and did at least one project to completion before deciding whether to keep on with it. She sewed clothes for us all and was a talented gardener. She is 99 years old this year and her mind is still active and alert. From her I learned to try things and explore the things that appealed to me.

I love books and the endless ideas they hold. I always intended to be a librarian. At college my roommate majored in textile design. Through her I was exposed to many different artistic media formats. It was impossible to sit and watch her create something beautiful without asking for some string of my own to try it for myself.
When I had the opportunity to be gifted with a 4-shaft counterbalance loom, I jumped at the chance. That was the start of this exploration that has so captured my curiosity. Everything else (except music and gardening) fell away. Thinking about weaving and the process of weaving is challenging and fun. I have never had classes but have learned much from books and, of course, the great society of weavers on the internet.

Weaving keeps my mind active and I don’t think I will ever run out of new things to learn and figure out and think about!

So I believe I could say I weave cloth because I am fascinated with weaving and for fun!

Vicki Allen, Weaver