I seem to be having a dictionary moment.

Word choice
​in the realm
of textiles
​however,
not to mention
the medium
of tapestry
where
nomenclature
and
semantics
duke it out daily,
is not a topic
to be tackled
by the
faint of heart.

The ATA  glossary defines tapestry thus:
Tapestry weaving: A weft faced, woven cloth with discontinuous wefts, usually plain weave.

The Wikipedia entry begins like this:
"Tapestry is a form of textile art, traditionally woven on a vertical loom. However, it can also be woven on a floor loom. It is composed of two sets of interlaced threads, those running parallel to the length (called the warp) and those parallel to the width (called the weft); the warp threads are set up under tension on a loom, and the weft thread is passed back and forth across part or all of the warps. Tapestry is weft-faced weaving, in which all the warp threads are hidden in the completed work, unlike cloth weaving where both the warp and the weft threads may be visible. In tapestry weaving, weft yarns are typically discontinuous; the artisan interlaces each coloured weft back and forth in its own small pattern area. It is a plain weft-faced weave having weft threads of different colours worked over portions of the warp to form the design."

And of course there is Other Wikipedia entry for Tapestry: 
"Tapestry is the second album by American singer-songwriter Carole King, released in 1971 on Ode Records and produced by Lou Adler."

  All this is even before bringing in the element of size (small format vs 'regular'),
or wandering into the world of jacquard 

or narrative embroidery
​where history has been stitched into linen for nearly 1000 years,
the word tapestry more firmly fixed with every gorgeous thread.

Will the real tapestry please stand up???

But of course they all are real.

I know  it can make things awkward to have several media employ the same word,
and don't doubt there are always issues involving status, or perceived lack thereof
(Please don't think what I do has any relation to that," whatever 'that' might be).
But embracing all the meanings makes life less exclusive, less 'us and them.'
It also makes naming things easier.

The word Tapestry, then,  allows me to be  specific and general at the same time.

And calling myself a Tapestry Weaver gives me  
the freedom of limitation inherent in the structure
as well as some built-in ​elbow room for experimentation,
which is how I work best.

Many of the old textile words have this quality -- structure and elbow room together--
and I love how such words can glow with the patina of  centuries
even as the things we do with them changes daily.  

I also love the specificity of  these words, and the astonishing things when the specific action implied by the word  is coupled with unexpected approaches  -- some of the blackwork  I've recently seen on Pinterest, for instance, is astonishing.

​Of course it may be that my passion for tapestry, sewing, knitting, embroidery and other such  rich words is because I am writing them on blog, on  a computer, through the internet and my soul longs for and clings to the things over which I have some control, have been here for a long time and most importantly, reference yarn.
Because I do love yarn.

​
Which in turn reminds me that
despite all these ways of messing around with ideas,
all work is new
and all work is old
and ideas keep going round and round.  

And perhaps that is what semantics is about.

I'll report back when I have some conclusions.

 I've handled most of the yarn since it was fleece,
so each skein is a familiar friend.

It'll be interesting to see how this stitching/ tapestry thing will evolve,

But 
not
knowing
 is 
the
point.

​

 Speaking of the unknown, I have added a sign up form.  Weebly, my website and blog provider, does not have their own system for letting you know when I've posted so I'm trying Mail Chimp and for that to work you have to put your email address in the mailing list form on the right at the top of the page (or maybe on the bottom if you're on a phone). I totally get if you have signed up for too many things and don't want to, but I've had requests and it seemed worth a try.
My hope is to send out a newsletterish email now and again (maybe once a month?) with links to recent blog posts and hopefully some new content -- maybe instructional stuff or coloring pages or gosh, I don't know. Do you?  
I've just opened up the comments so if you have ideas of what you'd like to see, do tell me. In the meantime, I'll try to figure out how the newsletter thingy works.  ​Thanks!

ps  I'm also now on Instagram.  If you too, indulge in the rabbit hole, I'm @sarahcswett

Golly, such interaction with the world!
But friends and fiber are what we have,
​ so do lets enjoy them.

Traditional Weavers of Guatemala: Their Stories, Their lives
written by Deborah Chandler and Teresa Cordon,
 photographed by Joe Coca,
​ has kept me enthralled for weeks.

It is a visual and narrative treat.
Indeed, I am somewhat embarrassed
to post my photos
as they are such a poor imitation of the actual book.
​
But I guess we'll have to put up with the blunt tools
at hand, for that is what I have just now.

And happily, this book reminds me how tools:
 loom, spindle, shovel, camera,
​are only the beginning.

To state the obvious, at least to you, my dear maker readers,
it is hand wielding them
 that makes all the difference between
the mediocre
​and the glorious.

And this book is filled with the glorious.
. 
There are descriptions of technique throughout -- 
 things I have never seen (much less understood),
Doubled sided brocade, for instance.

There are colors
and artisans talking, in detail, about color choices.

And there are
 lives.  

I read of  years
filled with yarn and 
 precise technique.

 I learned of
loss and renewal
and family
​and connection.




​Some of the stories are hard.
 Guatemalan history has been 
fraught with human and natural disaster.
And yet it is the intertwining 
of circumstance and artistry,
of controlled skill and uncontrollable events
that make the book so good.

Traditional Weavers of Guatemala
 (published by THRUMS )
is also a wonderful reminder

The second book I want to mention
Tapestries From Egypt,
 was written and published in 1961.

​My copy is tattered,
but the images inside
are fresh and delightful
and the book
 a great companion to​
 the current TEx@ATA Exhibition
Threads of Life, Ramses Wissa Wassef Art Centre, Egypt:
A Journey in Creativity
​curated by Ikram Nosshi
and Susanne Wissa Wassef
​

TEx@ATA, by the way, is the online exhibition program 
of the American Tapestry Alliance

 
The ideas of Ramses Wissa Wassef
and the astonishing tapestries (originally woven only by young children with no art training), are vivid, compelling and oh so very satisfying.  

From the Natural Dyes grown on site at the Center
to the fluid, narrative images... 
​
but wait!
Never mind my words.
  Just Click HERE
and you'll be in the midst of it.



Also, if you happen to be in NYC in the near future
I believe you can see (or even buy) Wissa Wassef tapestries at
the Store at Metropolitan Museum of Art 
If you're extra  lucky,
​you might even find a copy of the book somewhere too!

The third book for today
(and I do apologize for the length of this post-- I fear that if I don't write about all three I'll get distracted by weaving or spinning or embroidery or drawing or some other of the absurd number of things to which I devote my days, and won't get back to it),
is Small Woven Tapestries by Mary Rhodes.

Most of the images are black and white, 
another reminder of the importance of value in tapestry.
(As if, says anyone who has ever taken one of my tapestry workshops,
she would ever stop talking about it).

Rhodes has filled the book with images 
from myriad periods of tapestry history
though mostly from the time in which she wrote.

Showing me once again
that whether one is in contemporary Guatemala,
or late 20th Century Egypt
or Pre-Incan Peru
or 1970's Britain
or Instagram in 2015
There is not much that is truly new in the world of warp and weft.