But Should I?

There are a lot of coulds in my weaving world. As in, I could weave this or that on my rigid-heddle loom—my loom of choice, my muse, my creative constraint, my teaching tool, my thing. (I’m very annoyed that em-dashes are now a sign of AI written text because I use them a lot, perhaps too much.)

I didn’t really get into weaving with structures in mind. I dove head first into weaving because it cracked open something that allowed me to process the world, and at the same time have something tangible to show for the process—alchemy in either case. Since then, I’ve spent a lot of time figuring out how to weave this or that on my rigid-heddle loom. I can weave a lot more structures with relative ease than one might think—one heddle and a stick is a powerful combination. There are sett constraints. For me an e.p.i. of 30 is almost too fine, so I’m good with this limit to my weaving life. I enjoy working on a larger scale where the motifs are exaggerated.

I came from a floor loom world, so I know and understand that world and my reasons for embracing my loom of choice. While it was for lots of different reasons, I think I can say that ultimately I have trouble with intricate threadings in that format. For some reason, I don’t have the capacity to stick with them and still consider weaving fun. Floor loom weaving always seemed like such a commitment that required mental energy I don’t have. Rigid-heddle weaving felt a lot more experimental, approachable, graphic, flexible, and intimate.

When I started, I was all in on just making stuff, those heady years of discovering all the loom types and weaving anything made me giddy. Then I landed in an art environment in college and I was faced with making art. My ideas were okay, ideas are easy, execution muddled, and I just didn’t find myself at home in this lane.

Then I landed in a publishing environment, which was thrilling because publishing itself is a craft that also makes me giddy. The things we were publishing were largely focused on the quality of the design. Still not exactly my lane, but closer.

In publishing, there is always a focus on bringing new people into the fold. I moved to outreach mode, which seemed more concerned with form and flow. You still need the bait of good design, but the core conundrum was how to create something that invites newcomers to learn and that brings enough pleasure for them to want to keep going. My sweet spot. Teaching involved more demonstrating than writing, although the writing was important, which also played to my strengths.

Translation or Approximation

Another shift occurred when I changed my mindset from translating structures to looking at what was going on with the floats and approximating them. I got a lot happier in my explorations and found more freedom. I asked myself, “What do these floats really need to do?”, then I could play around with the constraints of float making on a tool of choice. I see constraints as a good thing.  Something to work with, not against. All of life has some kind of constraint, sometimes we can’t live with them and we need to find a new mode, sometimes they provide just the right kind of boundaries to keep us from spiraling.

Take, for instance, our last two weave-alongs. Both projects were woven using a single heddle using either two pick-up sticks that don’t require recharging, or a pick-up stick and heddle rod combination.  One was a color-and-weave Huck-like lace with color-and-weave effects that is technically woven on a Atwater-Bronson threading, often called “spot lace” as a very generic term, but in reality the look is the same as Huck Texture, so what is it really? Does it matter? It matters when one is trying to communicate what they are weaving within the technical bounds of structure, but otherwise no, it doesn’t matter.

The other, our most recent weave, is an overshot-like structure where the goal is to get as close to Monk’s Belt as possible using one heddle. While I can’t express all the blocks of overshot structure on one side of the fabric—background, pattern, and halftones—I can express two of them on the front (halftones and pattern) and two of them on the back (pattern and background). Monk’s Belt requires pattern and plain weave on each face of the fabric.

I can weave proper Monk’s Belt—weft floats and plain weave blocks on both faces of the fabric—on two and three heddles. (The YarnworkerU pledging members and I will tackle this as an afterparty.) Using two heddles, a pick-up stick and a heddle rod allows you to lift two ends adjacent to one another, something you can’t do with a heddle-centric approach on a single heddle. You can thread almost any 4-shaft structure this way, although some are more prone to split sheds. If you know the shed you want, this really isn’t a dealbreaker. You can pick up the float picks in front of the heddle. I reserve this option for lovely little borders, not allover weaves.  With three heddles, you can eliminate the pick-up stick and heddle rod altogether, and clean up your sheds. Up and down the heddle scale we go.

These close enough weaves fall into the camp of “modified”. As in not classically formed, but riffed upon. Even if you didn’t know the first thing about naming structures you would still be weaving them because that is the binary nature of weaving.

My point is, I can weave a lot of things considered not weavable on my loom of choice, but should I? That is up to the weaver, their goals, and their willingness to expand their comfort zone, and their definition of comfort. If I have given myself the creative constraint of a rigid-heddle loom, then it is really fun to play around with the limits of my loom. On the other hand, some of these weaves can be, depending on the weaver, just not all that fun to weave. Where the fun ends depends on the weaver. Sometimes not fun turns into fun with a little repetition. The state of flow is reliant on a bit of challenge.

Personally, I have no aversion to heddle rods, the standard two-heddle threading, and working with multiple heddles. I did have to work at perfecting my technique, but once I did, found their offerings more enticing than their offsets. Some weavers who have shaft looms, will simply abandon their rigid-heddles for their shaft loom when it comes to multiple heddles. No shade here.

I will admit that I abandoned my shaft loom when I got tired of making threading mistakes and discovered the flexibility of pick-up sticks when it comes to lace, Summer and Winter, a variety of twills, and overshot-like fabrics. All of these are often lumped under the title of “pick-up stick weaves,” but that is like saying all structures woven on a 4-shaft loom are 4-shaft weaves. They are, but they have more specificity than that.

I am still finding my flow with specific threadings of 4-shaft weaves on three heddles. I think it is leaning on the not fun end for the same reason I didn’t exactly love them on my floor loom. I seem to lose my ability to concentrate and get mixed up mid-thread. This is a factor of how my brain functions, not the loom itself.

I am finding my sweet spot with three heddles. For instance, doubleweave, where the pick-up stick layers are eliminated and I can thread my beloved standard threading—akin to a straight draw, but more powerful. I have lately been directly threading all multiple heddles at the same time using doubled ends, particularly enticing in clasped warp weaves. In these specific threadings, I am limited to a chunkier range of setts, which leaves me exploring larger motifs that work up in such a way I can see the interlacements better and internalize what the yarns are doing.

I admit that sometimes I have to walk away because I am simply stymied, but that happens regardless of my loom type or the thing I am weaving.  Can I? Sure. Should I? That is a personal decision. We often have to experience the can before we know the should.

Heddles Up!

Liz

P.S. The book, I’m embarrassed to even bring it up. I have the draft back from the tech editor and my sole job until the end of the year is to update the manuscript and get it indexed. I am debating another technical review before I put it out in the world. I’ll evaluate when I’m all the way through the tech edit. Here is the TOC as it stands now. It is slow work, partly because I have to mind my bread and butter which is YarnworkerU and my teaching life and partly, just like my adage, “Those who weave and walk away come back to weave another day,” the manuscript benefits from a certain amount of rest and revision with a fresh perspective. I’ve gained this perspective largely due to teaching the materials to intrepid members who spend time with me in the Yarnworker world. Spending time alone with my loom, but still together in the company of other weavers, is sheer joy for me. Thanks for joining me. I hope I give you that little bit of ahhh, when the world is giving you ugg.