What WAS I Thinking

First off, thank you so much, participants and visitors, for the biggest Loomsday. A special thanks to Cally for the spiffy name which made it more chipper.

Yesterday after breakfast I shot my Loomsday shots and decided to tidy the stash room a little because it was mighty hard taking pictures of the three smaller looms, and it felt like a lovely thing to do at the start of the year. I was going to put the silks back into the silk box, except ones I'm using in the near future, and maybe assess how much collage/art stuff I have/want to keep. But then I did something else, (more on this in a minute,) then Skyped with Mom, and it was dinner time.

This morning, I thought I'd check emails and Facebook before breakfast, and was astonished by the number of Loomsday communication. (Again, thanks!) It took about three hours, entering, checking, reading, commenting, etc.; and a bit several times through the day, but we had a late lunch, and I sauntered in there.

Whenever I tidy, I sit in the space and plan before lifting the first item. But this was supposed to be an abbreviated tidying so I was OK to just start, right? Wrong! Instead of putting away the silks, I marched up to the dresser, cleared the top and started wiping it. (I have an automatic bug-killer in the window, which works well but leaves sticky residue, then dust sticks to it.)  Though this bit was easy, (soapy water and microfiber mittens,) the magnitude of the job ahead, the dirt, blew me away.

Plus, it's like cleaning a Japanese apartment. The hardest part is to find space to evacuate stuff so I can clean the vacated space. I now have collage/drawing material and the framed work from the drawing exhibition taking up that little extra of space I used to have. 

Believe it or not, this is the before pic. I chipped a toenail while shooting the Loomsday pics. And did you ever notice wool expands to fill whatever space is available? The biggest box under the table at the left is my wool box. I've used some, I've taken a lot of 17/2 wool and whatever goes nicely with them downstairs but the box is still just as full. I hate the sight of cardboard boxes, but I dislike plastic cases worse. And after all, my yarn/art stash is only temporary, right??

I washed the top two shelves, and put all good merino not 17/2 on the second top shelf. I had hoped to put the navy, brown and gray cones on the bookshelf up there, too, but ran of space. They may go to the very top. Or not. I only got this far in the afternoon heat.

The floor tonight. What was I thinking not putting the silks away first. And everything evacuated to the hall and the bedroom are back for the night.

I'm not sure how thoroughly I'm going to tidy this round. I'm not culling books even though I have too much for the space. I'm not washing the walls. I have thought of chucking out all art supplies, but that seemed a little rash. And my yarns have been culled to the point there is nothing I don't like or can't use. But there are some decorations and items intended to inspire that can go. And I don't need to keep all the collage material, surely. I've only got 1,187 days until my 60th birthday.

But all is not lost. This is what we did yesterday; we went through a few cardboard boxes which sat in the corner just inside our front door since June 2009 when we reworked my "design room". Card games, tiny picture frames, my high school and university graduation certificates; I thought it'd be a cinch to decide what to keep and what not that winter. But there they sat, the ugly copy paper boxes, until yesterday, staring at my face reminding me of the years I wasted on mild-to-moderate depression and associated indecision. They were tangible representations, the witnesses, to that time.

I vacuumed the boxes every week. A while ago I even went through a couple and gave away some contents, but I every time I tried to tackle the rest, indecision returned like reflex even though I'm not depressed any more. After we cleaned the storage under the stairs last Monday, after we were able to sort the spillovers outside the storage space, I could not believe how the sight of no cardboard boxes lifted my spirits. And I thought I could get rid of the biggest eyesore with Ben's help.

It took us no more than 20 minutes. And I keep walking by to make sure we can still see the corner. Because I used to have flowers and such there at one point, you see. What a sight, that corner. 

Tonight we Skyped with my family gathered at my brother's house; I got to show them the lights; they can come down tomorrow.

A Day in the Life of Looms 2015

Happy 2015. Let this be another colorful, luxurious, even-tensioned, clean-selvedged year to us all.

Rigid heddle, circa 1995; she had one outing for a bag fabric in 2004.

 Ex-Nelson Polytechnic Weaving School sample loom; she had the same warp since mid-2010 mainly because of bad access in the crowded stash room, but the warp and the structure, Summer and Winter, have been on my mind.

16-shaft Klik, circa 2000; she has a semi-permanent cotton sampling warp and 

has been a supportive collaborator when I've felt experimental.

Ex-Nelson Polytecnic Naggi four-shaft jack, named Jack, circa 1975; 

he's had plenty of workout in 2014.

Retrofit 16-shaft computer-controlled Thorp, a. k. a. Mac, age unknown but probably the 1990's; along with the car-stereo-turned-workshop-sound-system and Joe Cooker CD, my trusted colleague.

And here are more:

Dianne, Dianne's Loom Talk, New Zealand

Sampling, Sampling, Australia

Neki, A Movable Feast, Spain  

Helen, Portia's Cloth, Australia

Patricia, Facebook, UK

Margreet, Woodyarn, The Netherlands

Kerstin, Kerstin's Extra, Sweden

Maliz, Strick 17, Germany

Tien, Tien Chiu, USA

Cally, Cally Booker Hand Weaver, UK

Holly, Honeysuckle Loom, USA

Penny, Penny.Kokopop.com, USA

Peg, Weaving a Gem of Life, USA

Dot, Dot's Fibre to Fabtic, UK

Laura, Weaving a Life a Day, Canada

Mette, Mette Frøkjær, Denmark

Sandra, Sandra's Loom Blog, USA

Valerie, Fiberewetopia, USA 

Terri, Weaving a Life, Canada 

Lynn, Facebook, Canada

Kaz, Curious Weaver, Australia

And Kathryn, Design Dye Beam Weave, UK

Thank you, participants and visitors alike, for a whopper of a Looomsday.
This initiative has now closed. Thanks again.

Nelson is Closed

I started this post about ten weeks ago. Cull as I have post ideas that looked good at the time, this one remained. I haven't researched all the details, (would appreciate input/corrections if you know any,) but feel compelled to finish so I can close my 2014.

It could well be a testament to how out of touch I am, as I really haven't been out and about in Nelson much since I started getting ready for our 2012 exhibition around the middle of that year. It expresses my perceived reduction in push for art in Nelson since before the Global Financial Crisis in exchange for increased participation in big sports events, (Rugby World Cup, Cricket World Cup, and Masters Games,) eroding Nelson's reputation as the arts capital of the nation.  Most of all, I was utterly dismayed at the lack of dismay expressed at the demise of this artist-friendly facility by the general public.

I got a call from the board of Refinery ArtSpace in October while I was writing this post. The incongruence was so startling the bad news could have only been true. Since then, I noticed the gallery has remained open, but I haven't inquired about the probably-temporary arrangement. 

* * * * *

Refinery Art Space went into voluntary liquidation yesterday, October 17. That they were struggling financially was no surprise, but it further compounds the erosion of Nelson as (at least one of) the visual art center/s of the nation. It also comes as The Suter, the oldest public art gallery in New Zealand and the only other not-private gallery in Nelson, prepares to relocate for major refurbishment.

Refinery is under the umbrella of Kahurangi Employment Trust, so the gallery is not-for-profit, funded in part by the Nelson City Council, and all exhibitions are free to enter. I understand shop sales have dropped in recent years.

Compared to when we first visited New Zealand in 1992, but particularly since I became aware of Arts Marketing in May 2006, I can't help feeling there has been a sea change; the focus moved away from arts towards for-profit enterprises including hosting expensive sports games. Kiwis love sports, not even I would label sports events as bad, but Nelson used to have a unique feel which started to fade even while New Zealand was said to be booming before the Financial Crisis. It feels more like other places in New Zealand.

Selling galleries, including The Red as I knew it, and shops specializing in Nelson craft and souvenirs, changed hands, closed, (and opened); short lifespan of small businesses in New Zealand is nothing new, but these lifespans feel even shorter. I think specialist selling Nelson works have reduced. (But also true, cafes and other venues "show" art so it's probably inaccurate to say there are fewer venues. Also, the old Red was not Nelson-only.) 

The demise of Arts Marketing as I knew it was the biggest shock; first was the departure of Martin Rodgers, then the organnization itself, which tirelessly encouraged emerging artists and networking among artists, went. There is a new not-for-profit group which took over the Guidebook work and an event also called Arts Expo, a mega-market rather than artists-meeting-galleries/retailers, but participation fee in either is so expensive I giggled uncontrollably when I inquired about their first guidebook. 

Art Council and Lloyd are still at the same premise but on a different lease; I think Lloyd is behind the gallery staying open for the time being, but I haven't inquired nor volunteered to help.

The WOW show, after seven years since its inception in a paddock just outside Nelson, moved to Wellington in 2004. We got a WOW museum in return, and to be fair it has a fantastic classic car display and a hallway gallery, but it is a poor relative to the show.

Trafalgar Centre is an indoor sports facility but have acted as a performance/function venue as long as we can remember. The day we moved to Nelson in 1996, Tina Turner performed here; one of the first and last concerts we've been to was also here, an unforgettable Joe Cooker. WOW also took place here after it was upgraded from the paddock. Some years ago the City Council invested in a back stage addition for performers, but soon afterwards the building was closed down because of low-rating on earthquake risk assessment.

Saxton Field, the newer sports facility, has a pavilion capable of some events; this has been used, for example for the Arts Expo but I haven't visited the venue. 

Nelson School of Music, the oldest private music institution in New Zealand, has also been closed for a few years because of earthquake risks. Among their events, Adam Chamber Music Festival, apparently a premier chamber music event was put at risk but will go ahead in 2015.

Theater in Nelson played second fiddle to visual arts, but Theatre Royal was refurbished a few years ago; this is a venue for local and visiting productions. A new theater, The Playhouse, emerged on the outskirts some years ago and seems to be run successfully with many local productions, but we haven't been there. About the same time a small private theater we frequented went bust, and sadly I can't even remember its name. The theater in The Suter, where art house films and lectures were held occasionally, is also closed during refurbishment. (Their millennium refurbish plan failed because it proposed to do away with this theater, the director leaving after effectively telling the town to "leave it to us professionals.")

We still have a Arts Festival in the spring, mainly performance, mainly visiting; there are other old and new "festivals" in the summer, and now in the winter. We have not gone to too many because I really stay away from crowds, and because of costs. I also don't participate in art-selling opportunities because I don't have the stamina to make a lot of things in a rush.  

And while I mope about the demise of an art gallery, it's actually a slightly more serious social problem that the Trust is going down the gurgler, and very indicative of where New Zealand has been heading for a few years. The survival of the richest.

And the title of the post; that was Lloyd's comment when I went to pick up my pieces on consignment at the gallery shop. 

* * * * *

So this is the last post for 2014. And I feel I can move on. I had hoped to get some work done so I can present to you my looms in slightly different stages tomorrow, but that wasn't to be. Though we still have five hours of 2014, so maybe.

I didn't want to end the year on a downer, but I don't exactly feel optimistic about visual arts collectively in Nelson, or more accurately Nelson as art destination, but I don't know what I base this on. For me personally, well, I just have to get my head down, bum up, weave and hope for the best.  

See you tomorrow. 

On Interacting with Other Humans

We met JB and Ali on the Internet first, and in person a while later. For six years they were a nice couple from Germany who visited Nelson waiting for their house to be built here. Though our meetings were always pleasant, we also felt like a bullet point on their Nelson checklist; we met at coffee places in town and JB sometimes had the next bullet point in a few hours. I can only recall conversations about the progress of their house and where they've travelled in Europe, although I know there was more. (And I understand a little bit how my nephews and niece see me now.) It was interesting but tenuous at best.

Had our house been a nice, tidy one, not my work stuff all strewn all over and in mid-process at all time, had our garden been even an averagely tidy one, I've no doubt we would have had them over and we might have had a different kind of friendship. But we didn't and we don't. The time we've known them also coincided with my trying the darnedest to quiet all noises in my head and shed anything that didn't contribute to weaving.

My circumstances haven't changed, but their house is finished, and last Saturday we were invited to afternoon wine and nibbles, and we had a really lovely time.

They're about there, behind the dark shadows, which is still Rabbit Island, but on the other side of the water.

I don't apologize for needing a lot of time and space to do my work. Raised by an incredibly social mother who is energized by the company of others, and a father equally so but whom I suspect, (Mom says not,) felt a degree of responsibility to be social, at least saw a slight discord between the suspected public self and the self-seen-from-the-inside, I feel more like Dad and apprehensive not being more like Mom. And I hate the regurgitation of conversations and do-overs in my head that follows social events. 

I was an only child for six and a half years, and though I never had an imaginary friend, I often kept my own company. I got overly excited playing with other children, even my cousins next door, and inevitably was scolded at the end of the day, so playing by myself was the safe bet. (The sensation I felt one Sunday night when suddenly I realized I didn't get in trouble with Dad after a whole day with my cousins is still palpable; I can't remember how old I was, we did all day, but it was a revelation that it could be done.)

In school and at work, though I was not the outsider, (or perhaps I just didn't know?) I was never in a clique, a member. I wasn't unsocial, and I organized a lot of do's, but I admit to taking satisfaction in playing the organizer's role well. Rolls are always easier than being myself; I've been thus as long as I can remember; I'm not lying or pretending, but I'm not sure I felt until the occasions passe and I've had time to reflect.

JB and Ali are avid art collectors and supporters with their own opinions, JB a great storyteller, well-informed, and marketing-savvy. They're both cultured, well-travelled, and good people. And German and Japanese cultures share a number of perspectives on duty, performance, expectations, standards, work.

We came home on Saturday content, as if we made new friends instead of catching up with formerly transient ones. They were the same JB and Ali, but are more settled. We also had a glimpse of how they live, and can gauge the horror they'll feel if they saw how we live. (Honestly, even I've seen abandoned properties looking better than ours just now.) So I don't know what follows, but the ball is definitely in our court.

And Ben got a new hat.

2014/2015

Real rain today and a little wind. It feels so soothing after a dry, windy spring, and the last few days of humid, Japanese-summer like afternoons. I have slept well these last two nights.

2014 was focused and fragmented at once: I got some mad-intense weaving done from October last year to March-ish, then came the trying-to-get-something-for-a-drawing-exhibition madness, followed by getting-ready-for/travelling-in/finishing-what-I-started-in Australia madness, culminating in a sporadic but enjoyable weaving rush since September-ish. The two in the middle not weaving were intense because of unfamiliarity of the media, watercolor and acrylic, but I enjoyed the newness, freedom/unplanned-ness, and relative speed.

Weaving, of course, I enjoyed though individual stages/pieces were often infuriating. I evaluate my life by weaving output; the more pieces I weave, the better I'm using my time on the planet. Because I can't measure quality. But looking back from a wee distance I'm glad I delved into other things because they certainly helped me, especially in trying out new color combinations and proportions/distribution.

In between, I gardened a bit, probably the most I've done in my life in one year, but I'm not effective and I kept working in one same, tiny area. Seriously Kafkaesque. And funny it I weren't me.

Ben and I were inundated by a series of minor health complaints; it was almost funny how as soon as one problem went away, another popped up. And though we don't lead especially unhealthy lives, we can stand to exercise more and eat a little less.

Although at languishing, slightly injured snails' pace, we have also begun to tidy and shed, so long may this continue.

2015. I have the usual suspect lined up in the back row; I'm  afraid to drop them because they have been on my lists for ever like bad habits, but not have I made any serious efforts: dye, spin to weave, look into exhibition/s outside New Zealand, or engage in little-everyday projects. While I'll keep these in mind, I'm going to hold myself responsible for two things, my part in Weavers and Designers, and reduce stash, weave, weave and weave. I think both are doable.

I swear the kumara grew 7cm overnight. I kid you not; it few at least 18cm in three days. I've known it needs to go into the ground but I haven't found a position deep enough so I might use a pot made redundant earlier in the year. The yogurt container contains alstroemeria seeds from when I had cut flowers in the house.

It's a little after midday on New Year's Eve, but I feel reluctant to let go of this strange year just yet. I recall a palpable foreboding and a forced enthusiasm for 2014, which turned into a prodigal year. For 2015 I have no strong feelings, which I take as a good omen.

A Couple of More Days

I've not been able to sleep well for four nights. Unrelated, but we've had rain forecast for several days but had only humidity except for tentative drops last night. Not a pretty picture: I can't get up early, I'm a grumpy sloth, and afternoons are hot and muggy like Japanese summer. Even my sourdough is behaving differently and I had to throw out a loaf.

We managed to clean the storage under the stairs and boxed up stuff to give to the Hospice Shop, plus collected cardboard boxes from around the house and flattened and tied them up as per recycling instructions. Nice to have finished, but I sure hope we get a bit more done.

During one of the sleepless nights, I managed to make drafts for the Christmas warp. I don't know why I didn't think to thread it last night while wide awake but I got started this afternoon. And if I'm up again tonight, threading sure beats telly repeats. 

It's a little late for Christmas, but that's alright, the warp colors are phutukawa colors and I have cute names like, "Life is a Kiwi Beach" planned. 

I've started a few posts but I can't concentrate for lack of sleep; I'll try to get to them soon. Meanwhile, please consider taking part in Weaver to Weaver or Looms Day.

Weird Week / Sugar / Hobbit / Anniversaries

Boxing Day was the biggest Let Down day as a kid, but as I got older it's turned into a Big Relief day, even if we don't do anything. We've survived another. And this was a strange one.

The festive season started when I baked tiny orange cakes for a street party in early December, and then we cleaned the house holiday-style, (i.e. a bit better than the usual,) and even put up Christmas lights. I think I told you it doesn't get dark until around 9PM around here so the lights have been on for a very short time but we enjoyed it for a few nights, and a few more night to come.

On Monday Ben had a yearly Diabetes check with a nurse and got a glowing appraisal, so glowing I felt very uncomfortable as I've felt he's been a bit complacent in his monitoring. (It also has to do with the GP's attitude and changes in government funding.) We were supposed to go to a big 50th birthday dinner Tuesday night but he looked tired all day and had a long nap; when we were supposed to be getting ready, I begged him to check, and his blood sugar was sky high. So, no birthday dinner. I've been making him check several times a day since so I get a sense of what his "normal" is now.

What really annoys us is, we had enough sweets in late November and early December so we haven't had chocolates or cakes in a fortnight; we're not eating special meals but lots of veg and small amounts of normal protein sans sauces/gravy, or anything festive. Ben doesn't like my gluten-free bread, no-added-sugar jam, nor yogurt, and he won't go near my kombucha except the occasional coffee konbucha. (The last one I'm not bothered about; more for me.) So Christmas Eve day and Christmas Day all day we drank a lot of water and tea and ate veg-laden meals in the heat. Christmas Eve at 8PM was 26C in our living room; Christmas Day 9PM was 28C! (That's very hot for our house; very cool for Yokohama.)

As if I needed to add to the craziness, we had saved a lot of cooking show Christmas specials and watched them these last two days. Most were English shows, so a lot of oven-cooking, which were easy to ignore, but a not-Christmas episode of Nigel Slater's show had a nice stir fry and silly me, I cooked stir fry in the searing heat last night, and reheated bean curry. Silly, silly me. 

Ben's gotten on his exercise machine several times for short periods, but in general, we feel unfairly accused. And we still can't figure out why his blood sugar level comes back down normally after brunch but not after dinner, when we've been eating very similar meals. But this is how the disease is progressive; what worked in his 40's isn't enough to maintain the same numbers. Got to read some more.

The monitoring hell continues, but we did catch up today with the birthday boy and the Mrs; in fact we went to the last The Hobbit movie, my very first 3D film. It took me a while to figure out the sweet spot on my glasses first, and then a good match with the 3D glasses, but I can see the attraction. After a while I started to feel sea sick, but maybe we can get seats in the back row another time. And it was lovely to catch up with our friends as they live in Melbourne.

I've felt a little weaving withdraw; I've had stuff to mend, fringe and finish sitting in front of the telly but I don't feel like touching wool in this heat. So some cool work session in the basement would be most welcome.

* * * * *

Today's my parents' would-have-been (or is it still even if one is deceased?) 59th anniversary. Next year my family will see 60th, 25th, 20th and 15th anniversaries. Yikes.

On a chaperoned day out after their engagement; 1955.

As newly-weds; 1955 or 56. I remember the dining chairs.

Happy, Merry, Bless

Our window is tinted and double-glazed. And dirty. But if I go outside I'd be too low to shoot the flowers. I just can't get the colors right, but flours are very saturated, slightly blue red when they come out, and fade as days go by. Birds of all kids started feasting today, messing up the red stamens. The foliage is mid-yellow-green. Today the sky is mid-light blue, exactly the color you imagine a summer sky to be; it almost looks fake.

May you and yours be blessed with health, inspiration and perseverance.

Not Thinking and Thinking

A misunderstanding on my part led to discussing with Cally issues I can't pin down but encompass our respective focus area of our weaving practices, most suitable selling venues/methods, what we allow ourselves to purchase/outsource and still feel comfortable putting our names on our work, etc, etc, etc. Not so much slotting us into existing marketing pigeon holes, but putting our gut feelings into words, perhaps. And stuff; how much stuff do we truly need in our lives and are we contributing by adding more and expecting folks to buy?

I also realized, this whole year, this side of preparing a bunch of questions for Kaz before going to Australia, I've not worried about anything external to me or my weaving.

This is not to say I'm happy/comfortable with my finished products, (remember all the broken cashmere warps, the pleats that didn't?) but I've had two intense weaving periods, at the start of the year up to drawing exhibition prep, and now, during when I have been focused on what and how I work and have not worried about much else. The noises in my head have really stopped and I'm not worried about new weaving books, trends/fashion, what everybody else is weaving, in the "I need to learn/catch-up/emulate" kind of way; I still maintain a high level of curiosity/interest in all of your work, what you are weaving, how, even why, but they have nothing to do with what I'm doing. I feel released from a whole list of "shoulds" and keep noticing how focused I am, when I do get around to noticing such things. This makes me happy. I don't know if it means I've finished or started being my own apprentice as suggested by Randy Darwall, but eight years on, I'm somewhere I wasn't before, and I'm going to call this progress.

The flip side of this has been my stash reduction projects; for ease, speed and a kind of return to basics, I've been trying to work on four shafts. To help me develop more interesting-to-me projects, I've been gazing at weaving books I bought early on, revisiting elements of weaving except many shafts. I don't apologize for my love for many, considering what I considered were the ultimate cloths as long as I can remember. But I used to know things which have either fallen by the wayside, or consider automatically, ergo unconsciously, I don't know if I know and I want to recall them. Doni's doing similar.

There may be more on these topics, or not; I don't feel compelled to reach any explainable conclusions; in fact, these will remain ongoing themes for the rest of my weaving life, I know. And/Or I'm lazy today because it's been so sunny and so hot even in our cold, dark house, and I'm tired for having gone into town to do our last food shopping. But other than milk and veg, we're good for the next fortnight.

Gluten-Free Sourdough with Raspberries In It. As opposed to some fancy Raspberry, Something and Something Else Bread. We went picking yesterday; boysenberries were abundant; raspberries plants looked sad and berries so few but what we did pick are delish. But I was ever so enamored by the peas we're going back to pick some.

Pohutukawa Report: the tree looks redder all over in person. Ben won't stop talking about pruning.

Speaking of plant morphing before our eyes, the kumara refuses to die; in fact it demands to be put in the ground. I don't know if I can find soil deep enough without something special for this, but not today. The biggest leaves are about 3cm long.

EDIT: I forgot to tell you something interesting/strange. Many of you post pictures of yourselves on your blogs or FB page so I have some idea of what you look like, right? When I was in town today, even though Ben said there was only the usual level of crowd, I felt there were heaps more folks out shopping. And I kept seeing many of you, alone, with visitors, with kids, with shopping bags, sitting leisurely in cafes, rushing though the idles in the supermarket, or frantically looking for a place to park. It was actually great fun!

Weaver to Weaver 2015 and The Day in the Life of Looms 2015

Guidelines to Weaver to Weaver 2014 2015 or, W2W14 15

This is taking place in 2015 so I changed the name. I hope it's OK.

1) Collect small inexpensive items that inspire you as a weaver, that show something of your weaverly thinking, or something achingly lovely that doesn't cost an arm and a leg. Put a few in a "normal sized" envelope; I'm thinking up to a medium Christmas card size, or "business" size roughly one-third of an A4 or Letter size sheet.

2) Sign up by emailing me, not commenting here, between now and Sunday, January 4, 2015:
     * how many envelopes you want to send/receive; no limit;
     * your real name if you use an online name;
     * your physical address;
     * and an URL for a blog, photoblog, website, somewhere we can find out more about you and your work. If you haven't got any, don't worry.
     * If you've participated in W2W in the past, and if you remember, tell me who your partner/s was/were. 

3) By the end of Tuesday, January 6, I'll match you with an/other weaver/s and send you their contact detail.

4) Send your envelope/s to your partner/s on or before Saturday, January 31. For overseas mail, please use Air Mail.

5) Sit, wait, and enjoy. When you receive your envelope, make yourself a hot/cold cup/glass of something and sit in your favorite chair. Tell us about it if you like.

You may prefer to hear from me who your partner/s is/are and then start collecting.

Questions? Please ask away in the comment section.

Anything that inspires you would work. If mailing overseas, just be careful of plant/animal matters as some countries are very strict.

If language is a problem, we'll try our best to find someone who can translate. Participants need to understand how W2W2 works, but English is not required in the actual exchange.

Last year, my envelope to Alicja, and others, were posted shortly after Christmas. It didn't reach her before the end of January, nor February, and I was happy to make up new set, but it came back to me in May or June! Because I had Hobbit stamps on it, I put the package in a bigger envelope and sent it to the same address and she got it sometime in the first half of this year. So, ask each other if you don't receive your envelope by say mid-February, or contact me and I'll do the asking.


Guidelines to A Day in the Life of Looms 2015

Boy, this was big this year. Thank you, everybody.

1) Take pictures of your loom/s on New Year's Day 2015 your time. I think one picture per loom will do.

2) Post on your blog or a dedicated album on Flickr/Picasa/Facebook. Make them big pictures so we can see. Write anything you want about your looms, projects, plans for the year. Or write nothing. Please add a link to my Loomsday post.

3) Make it go public on January 1 your time.

4) After it's publicly viewable, send me the link to your post.

Easy!