Years ago,  when I had only a small Schacht Baby Wolf loom with a mere 24 inches of weaving width,  I developed considerable skill with a technique called Double Width Double Weave (hereinafter called DWDW).  This allows you to set the loom up so as to weave two layers of cloth simultaneously, open on one side and with a fold on the other.  Imagine a sheet of paper folded in half down the middle; when it’s opened up, it’s twice as wide.  Hoo hah!!  That’s what I did on the loom, enabling me to weave fabrics wide enough to make into clothing, or to make a nice spacious throw to snuggle into on a chilly evening.

Not only did I figure out how to do that much, but once I had become enamored of a process of using multiple yarns in a single warp (sometimes as many as twenty), randomly distributed across the width to create complex and interesting results, I began to imagine combining these two techniques.  It took a number of attempts — none of them abject failures — before I got pretty good at it, and developed some tricks and procedures that enabled me to be fairly sure that both layers would be as I envisioned.  From time to time, at Weavers’ Guild show and tell times, I’d show a length of fabric done this way, and almost invariably — as she stood handling the cloth — some experienced weaver would tell me that it couldn’t be done, or the rules said it couldn’t be done.  The evidence apparently wasn’t convincing enough.

It’s been a few years since I’ve done the DWDW dance, but I’m back into it.  The first return to this technique is a series I’m calling Wintergreen — I wrote about its start some months ago.  Progress has been glacial, for a number of reasons — some of them technical, some of them the press of Real Life outside this studio.  But it’s moving forward now, quite decisively, and here’s proof ~

That’s a close-up of the warp threads tied onto the back apron rod using surgeon’s knots — they’re easy to tie and hold reliably despite considerable warp tension.  Each of those bundles is one inch-worth of threads.

And this is even closer so the knots and threads show a little better.  This is the most jammed-together bunch of warp knots I’ve ever had; I’ll explain why in another post in a few days.  It was a bit challenging getting them all nicely aligned and snuggled in together.  Note — there are 898 threads in this warp, across about 28 inches.

This is an up close and personal view of a portion of the warp as it winds onto the warp beam at the back of the loom.  I’m pleased with the distribution of the five different yarns — nice spread of textures especially.  I’ll tell more of this story soon.  Stay tuned.

There’s been quite a bit of Life In The Way of creative work lately — a two-week visit from a family member, appointments to take Himself to, dogs to get to the vet, a sick cat.  I’ve managed to eke out studio time most days, but often abbreviated hours.  Still, I’ve made progress on both looms, one of which I’ll tease you with today and save the other for later in the week.

Here’s the Coyote Series #2 scarf on the loom ~

You can faintly see the patterning.  Faintly indeed.  Another view ~

The weft yarn in this one is a warm taupe bamboo, very shiny and soft.  Now here’s Coyote Series #3 ~

On this one, the weft is a medium grey pearl cotton, also lustrous though not quite as soft as the bamboo, so this scarf will have a bit more body and less drape.  Finally, another view of this one, looked at sideways in hopes of seeing the oh-so-subtle complex pattern ~

This one is will be finished tomorrow, after which there will be one more.  To be continued . . . .

Last August I was visited by two out-of-towners who were poking around on the Whidbey Art Trail, on which my studio is a stop.  A woman and a man, she from California, he from Colorado — friends for thirty-five years.  Delightful people.  They stayed for an hour or so, touching many items, talking and laughing, admiring both work in progress and finished pieces.  They left with assurances of see you again sometime and the like.  I got back to work.

About two hours later, they reappeared — a delicious lunch and a bottle of wine properly enjoyed in the interim.  Very jolly, so the fun began.  She ordered two of the Cloud Forest scarves which were on the big loom at the time; he commissioned a scarf for himself.  We spent at least an hour with yarn samples and color cards spread over my work table, and ended by agreeing on colors, fibers and dimensions of the finished piece.

The inspiration for this scarf gave me a few shivers.  It’s to be worn with a coyote fur coat (and a mink one as well), so the yarn colors were selected to suggest the subtle coloration of the animal.   Even now, I feel a bit queasy about this part, but am entirely pleased with the results.

Here’s the warp (on the loom as I write) ~

Five yarns — bamboo, rayon and pearl cotton.  Mostly bamboo.  Very lustrous.  Randomly distributed across the width of the warp (a specialty of mine).  And here’s a look at the scarf partly woven (it’s now finished and sent off, safely arrived in his hands) ~

The weft yarn is an unusual rayon loop, soft taupe in color, and it gives the cloth a texture that’s subtle and  interesting.  The finished scarf is shimmery and soft, drapes beautifully.  Its owner is delighted with it, and will send me photos of himself wearing it with each of the coats.  I promise to show them to you.  There will be three more scarves woven in this series, which — for obvious reasons — I’ve named the Coyote Series.  They’ll show up here soon.  Be patient.

Back in December, a good friend visited my studio wearing a crocheted scarf she loves, and asked me to weave three more, similar in length and width.  She wanted colors like those in the Lava Flow shawls; since I had some of the hand-dyed yarn from that series left, the project was a go.  I felt some reservation about being able to do what was required — these were to be only three inches wide, far narrower than my usual scarves.  But she is short, and the female family members she intended two of them for (one for her, of course) are also short.  Small-scale made sense.

So here’s what I did ~

That’s the first one.  The warp is a hand-dyed silk and rayon blend, slightly textured and with a nice sheen; the weft here is a black tencel.

Next up ~

Different pattern, and the weft is a shiny grey bamboo.

Finally ~

A different pattern still, and a garnet pearl cotton weft.  From start to finish, I cranked these out in five days, named it the Embers series, and my friend came and got them today.  She’s so happy with them, she’ll have me do another trio in a couple of months — half as wide.

My concern in tackling this commission was that my loom wouldn’t handle the quite-narrow warp very well.  That turned out not to be the case.  I also worried that weaving something so skinny wouldn’t suit me, as there wouldn’t be enough space for me to play with pattern as I like to do.  Also not the case.  And I learned something I hadn’t anticipated — the warping process (getting the warp threads onto the loom and ready to weave) went very fast because there weren’t very many of them.  However, the weaving itself took nearly the same amount of time as the wider scarves I ordinarily make, simply because the movements of treadles, shuttle and beater still have to be done as they are for larger pieces.

When I do the really skinny ones, I’ll use finer threads, small-scale patterns, and probably learn something new yet again.

Two days ago, I cut the series of four Lobelia scarves off the loom, beaming with pleasure.  Here’s the fourth in the group, and my favorite ~

That’s looking at the middle of it as it heads for the back of the loom to wind around the cloth beam.  And here it is up top at the end where the weaving is actually going on ~

The weft yarn is once again a lustrous tencel, this time in a rich red-violet which looks luscious enough to bite into.  In this series, I did something I almost never do — used exactly the same pattern in three of the four scarves.  I couldn’t help myself — it’s so interesting and dimensional, with subtle complexities that I didn’t tire of.  Today the washed but not-yet-ironed beauties are hanging on the back of my big loom, and I  notice that the difference in color of the weft yarns makes the pattern in each one look substantially different.

Happy dance indeed.  Care to join me??

A couple of days ago, as I was messing around with grubby dishes in the kitchen sink and looking out the window into the garden, the bouquet on the windowsill in front of me registered in a new way.  I bought these flowers about ten days ago (and they’re still in good shape, which is fine with me as they were a bit spendy) because I loved the intense colors at this time of year when the cloud cover is low and the light is so murky.  Here they are ~

Remind you of anything?  If you read my previous two posts (maybe more — I forget), these colors should seem familiar.  I don’t  know why it took me so long to notice; I can only plead considerable distraction on the homefront by the exigencies of looking after two dogs, two very elderly cats (one of them sick), and a husband whose physical and mental facilities are diminishing.

So here’s a look at the latest Lobelia scarf, now finished except for the final beaded hemstitching ~

This the one that a customer commissioned, woven with a soft blue-violet bamboo yarn in the same elaborate pattern as the first in this series.  It looks striking without being bold, which I believe will suit her nicely.

Tomorrow, I’ll do the finishing on this one, then get a good start on weaving the fourth — and last — piece in this series.  It’s likely to be my favorite, and will refer marvelously to that bouquet in my kitchen.

The Lobelia series is moving right along, and I’m quite pleased with how they’re turning out.  The second (of four) has much the same pattern as the first, with a shift in how the threads interlace, resulting in a far more subtle effect.  In fact, the pattern is nearly invisible, and is inordinately difficult to show in a photograph.  Case in point ~

There’s just the slightest hint of the motifs on the left side of this view; the other shots I took showed pretty much no pattern at all.  I suspect (make that hope) that when it’s off the loom, no longer under tension, washed and ironed, it’ll look more impressive.  Nonetheless, the colors are glorious.

I’ve gotten a good start on the third piece in this series, and it’s looking good — softer weft color, making the overall effect quite different.  Pictures in a day or two.  Hold your breath.

Recently I wrote about the beginning of a bamboo-warp series of scarves that I decided to name the Lobelia Series.  I’ve made progress on it, and the first of four is nearly finished.  Here are two shots — the first straight on, where the pattern (oh my, the pattern!) is a bit subtle.  The second is from a sharp angle, showing both the “front” of the cloth, and down below the “back” of it.  Here the pattern, though distorted by the angles, is bolder and (on occasion) looks like a fancified “Tumbling Blocks” quilt design.  The weft yarn is a fine tencel in eggplant purple, and the pattern repeat is 240 threads, which works out (as I’m weaving it) to about ten inches. 

Yes, I know — it’s been a loooooonnngggg time since I wrote anything here, which might lead one to suppose that I’ve been sitting around doing nothing, or at best reading good books, perhaps even trashy books.  Actually, my reading usually takes place while I’m eating my spartan lunch, and (truth be told) it’s usually edifying rather than mind-numbing.  Now, with that out of the way . . . .

Much of what I’ve been up to in the way of studio work (there’s been a lot of other stuff going on to get life with a disabled spouse to go better and be less demanding for me) has involved complex projects and design, some of it well outside my comfort and knowledge zone.  That’s a good thing, in my book, but time-consuming and sometimes frustrating — none of which is demonstrable in word or picture.  At the moment, I’m taking a break from the Really Hard Project (of which more soon), and concentrating on something both less difficult and more lively.  Just to give you an idea ~

That’s the hand dyed 100% bamboo yarn I’m using for this series of four scarves, a series which began with a commission order from a customer.  I’m calling it the Lobelia Series, for reasons which are probably obvious.  And here’s the warp all threaded and nearly ready to wind onto the warp beam at the back of the loom ~

It’s about ten inches wide, and will finish out at nine inches; length of the “extras” will be approximately 72 inches each.  Complex patterning, deep color, lustrous fibers.  What could be better??!!

Onward into another year, with an interesting, challenging plan of work ahead.

Two and a half years ago, my nephew Jesse married the lovely Trinity.  Auntie Annie offered to weave them something for a gift, suggesting such things as place mats, table runner, napkins, kitchen towels.  They chose towels.  Now mind you, in over thirty years of steady weaving, I’d never woven a single towel, kitchen or tea or fingertip.  None.  That makes me an anomaly in the world of weavers, and I had no experience and little interest in making such mundane stuff.  However . . . .

So I gave it some thought.  Quite a lot, actually.  It took about two years to have any idea at all of how I wanted to proceed.  Fortunately, the starting point was the couple’s choice of colors, which I heartily adore — orange and gold and red.  Remember this?

That’s the beginning of putting the 480-thread, 9-yard-long warp onto the loom.  Soft, absorbent cotton, lots of it.  A long, slow, tedious process.  It’s a good thing I love the color!

I had decided that if I could extend into the process of making towels my practice of never duplicating anything,  of playing with color and pattern, and designing all the patterns myself,  I could produce these durable and functional textiles with a considerable degree of pleasure.  And they’d probably look pretty darn terrific.

So here’s your sneak preview of the first four I’ve woven (I’m now on the seventh, but don’t have pictures of more than these) ~

I’m looking forward to seeing these off the loom and (machine) washed and dried; they’re going to be much more interesting than all stiff and under tension as they are here.
There will be nine towels in the group, measuring about 18 by 28 inches — good-sized (I think kitchen towels should Have Substance and not be all wimpy and small).  Two will go to Jesse and Trinity (and about time — their first child is due at the end of this year!), and one is reserved for a dear friend in Maine.  The rest will be available to the general public (this means you) for thirty bucks apiece.  It’s possible to have an Anne Niles Davenport Original for a modest sum — and that’s the final element of my long planning process!