Near the end of a project, with the final throws of the shuttle, while I’m quietly stitching the hem, there’s a hint for the next warp. It teases its way into my brain. It’s the “what if…” that carries weavers to rethread the loom time and again.
What if I change the treadling from a straight sequence to a pointed sequence? What happens if I use a finer yarn? What if I focus on block A instead of block C? What if I weave overshot as if it were honeycomb? Can it even work? The only way to find out is to try it.
Samples. I have to confess I’m a “let’s just get it done” type of person. I’m thrifty and I’m impatient. Samples have always seemed like a waste of time and money, and what would I do with them afterwards?
I’m getting wiser in my old age. How many times have I woven something only to find out the sett was too tight, or the yarn I’d chosen bleeds, or the weave just wasn’t what I thought it would be. That’s a waste of time of money.
So my sample stash is growing. I had a tub …
that spilled over to a drawer …
and now to a second drawer.
I really admire those super-organized weavers who keep their samples in neat binders and sleeves along with all their planning notes and records. I’m not there yet.
I have at least started tagging my samples so I have a vague idea about what I was trying to do and why it did or did not work. That’s a start.
The next step is to sort them into some order so I can find that inspiration when I need it. And as I’m sorting the samples, one or another gives me pause. A different yarn perhaps? Maybe this will work for that new curtain? What if I added an accent color right there? What if….?