On 24 April, 2014
I took a deep breath,
gritted my teeth
and pressed "post"
on an image of a tapestry house by the sea. 

It was my very first blog entry
on a brand new website,
and it was terrifying.

You'd think I'd be used to such things
as my work  has been in cyberspace since the mid 1990s.
My husband-- code writer and web builder--
had thought it'd be a good idea.

"WHY would I want such a weird and public thing?"
I cried.
"And anyway, who would ever look?"
After all, I only checked my email every couple of weeks.

By 2014, however,
web construction (and my attitude) had changed just a tad,
It was time to tackle the newest iteration on my own.

My wonderful web-savvy sister
pointed me toward  Weebly
(a relatively friendly website builder),
and after a few shitty first drafts
and much angst,
the thing came together-- 
though committing to a blog took a little longer.
​
"What is the point?"
"Will I be able to sustain it?"
"Will I be able to stop if I want to?"
"Will I have anything to say?" 
"Won't the stuff I do seem boring and repetitive?" 
"Will it change my relationship to the work if I talk about process?"
"Will the ideas get shy and stay away?"

Well yes, it has changed my relationship to my work --
at least I think so.
Having taken the blogging path
I can't exactly do the experiment of what would have been happening had I chosen the other.

And NO, there has been a shortage of ideas. ​

Or maybe I just easily amused
​ since four years on, 
not only am I still entranced by weaving tiny tapestry houses, 
but I also seem to have had something or other to say
about my boring, repetitive and oh-so-satisfying work
almost every Tuesday since.
​
 I learn something every time I write--
and if not always from the actual words,
then absolutely from the bliss of all of you coming to read,
and from your shared thoughts and experiences.

The last three blog-o-versary's 
have slipped right by me.
I guess it's  hard to notice the big picture when I write every week.
​
But this year I noticed 
and thought it would be a grand time  to try something new,
something I've been meaning to do since I started selling 
 "How To Weave A Bag On A Box" comic instruction zines on Etsy.
It was time to move the store
RIGHT HERE!

Alas, however, I am still just as much of a scaredy cat
about new web-based enterprises
as I was four years ago.

Apparently, I'll tackle a new tune,
a new fiber,
a new pair of shoes,
refurbish an old spinning tool,
make paint,
tackle an unfamiliar comic-diary-binding-method
embrace a plastic spindle,
 embark a giant secret project that I'll tell you a little bit about in my next newsletter,
and even do the laundry--
rather than commit to pushing that 'publish' button.

But I'm getting closer.  REALLY.
And if you think of it,
​you might check back later in the week,
because honestly,
I have  both physical and PDF versions of my comic instructions
(How to Weave a Bag on a Box and Backstrap Dialogues for now),
all loaded up
and once I know how the system works
I plan to also make a tapestry gallery too
(need a tiny house anyone? a large colorful tapestry?),
and my plan is to have free shipping to celebrate.
​So stay tuned! 

Indeed, I  feel myself getting braver by the minute.
​
But maybe some lunch first.
And a little weaving in the sun.
OH yes, but first I'll push the "POST" button.

Gotta have ‘em!

Fabric store ‘eco-felt’ (from plastic bottles apparently),
that has been languishing in my shoe experiment stash,
plus a scrap of nylon something-or-other
​from a failed waterproof shoe experiment,

and the not-quite-worn-out soles
​ from the now-disintegrating yellow ones,

equals a relatively swift,
and somewhat half-assed,
pair of minimalist running shoes.

Function has an elegance all its own.

Or, as wise women have said,
“​Done is better than perfect.”

So what effect does the shape of the distaff
and the length of its 'handle'
have on the spinning--
and thus the yarn?

And what about the relationships between
 -the position of the distaff
-the position of the fiber
-the preparation of the fiber
-the positions of  my hands
-and the style of spindle?

My first two willow distaffs
(distaves?--my computer thinks not)
are inclined toward narrowness at the bottom--
a bit like a pointed lozenge shape-- 
causing the ever decreasing fiber mass
to slide down as I spin.

Unlike the willow I used for the first two (which had been drying for a year),
the fresh osier branches are still very flexible --
and also relatively heavy. ​

The two plants also branch differently --
the willows alternating as they go up,
the osier branches sticking out in pairs, 
(what is the botanical word for this phenomenon?)
allowing  for distaff symmetry.

 I'm not generally all that attached to symmetry.
But I'm pleased with the shape,
though can't so much about  its effetiveness
or the increase in weight
since I've only just begun to spin.
​Stay tuned.

And since this box of fleece just arrived
I might get a teensy bit distracted.

 Thanks as ever for all the wonderful comments and ideas --
I do so enjoy them even if I rarely seem to answer -- except in my head, alas.

Also -- any thoughts on this combination of comics and 'regular' photos?
Somehow it seems best to me to stick with one or the other--
the  transition can be jarring.
But sometimes I  don't have enough drawings
for all I have to say. 
Hmmm -- a lesson there?

So just as I pushed ‘post’ on last week’s blog,
​a package arrived at my door:
​two plastic Turkish style spindles (10g and 14g),
3-D printed by my son.

Wetspinning flax is a drippy business
and I didn’t think all that moisture was good for my lovely wooden spindles,
so before tackling my second strick of flax (this one from Vävstuga),
I asked him to make one for me.
He thought I needed weight options, so made two.

Though they lack the romance and sweet hand feel of wood,
both spin beautifully and I don’t have to worry about wrecking them.
Well, that’s not strictly true --
​I can’t help but grow attached to most useful tools
(note previous love letters to my PVC loom),
but at least moisture won’t be a problem with these.
They’ve already survived the odd clunk to the floor
​ and so far are none the worse for wear.

Note: there is open source code (google)
that you can take to your local 3-D Printer

Of course I had to try them out instantly
and as I’d promised myself I’d try ‘properly’ dressing a distaff with this new strick
(before I’d used the strick-wrapped-in-a-towel-and-draped-over-my-shoulder method),
I ran outside, cut a piece of willow
bent a couple of thin branches into a vague oval,
and tied them together with a bit of string.

Though not really like the distaffs described in the books I’d consulted*
it worked astonishing well --
the linen fanned out in thin, curved layers on a bed
just as they all said it should,
and when I’d wrapped the delicate array around the willow,
tied it with a ribbon,
lashed it to my body with an apron and stuck the butt end into my leg warmer
(this last was not described in any my sources but made a big difference for this novice),
the strands of flax poured smoothly down into my waiting hands.
Not that the videos above and below show this exactly --
but take it from me, it felt simply amazing.
The fibers drafted  more smoothly and evenly than with my first attempts at the towel method,
and though it took a while to figure out where to put my dish of water
 the time-honored and oh-so-elegant spit technique helped me get started..

*Linen: Hand Spinning and Weaving by Patricia Baines (Batesford 1989)
-​Your Handspinning by Elsie G. Davenport (1953 and 1964)
-the handout from my 1992workshop with Marge Bentley from whence came the flax I talked about before
-a couple of You Tube Videos on dressing a distaff
All gave essentially the same information,
though the Baines book was the most specific and gave the widest range of. options,
​many of which I look forward to trying.

Making these two videos I learned:
1. A belt works better than an apron (and looks classier too)
2. It’s easier to see at that focal length without my glasses
3. I look awfully grim when I’m concentrating.
4. The website upgrade that now allows me to put videos in my blog posts might be a dangerous thing.

The rest of the evening was spent clutching the distaff with my elbow and
alternately filling yellow and white spindles.
 I got pretty comfortable with the whole business after a while,
but  next morning I strapped the distaff to an old tripod we’d fished out of a dumpster,
and found that this, though still less portable,
allowed for a little more elbow room and general drafting ease.

It also makes it possible for me to spin without a belt,
and with my glasses.

​I imagine it’ll be quite some time before I can read and spin flax
as I can with wool,
but next I want to try a hand held distaff and some other ways of dressing it
so I can practice spinning while walking around the yard --
or at least around the studio while waiting for spring.

Drawing the above was a good reminder
of how much pleasure I get from the act of making yarn--
the sensation of fibers in my fingers,
the energy of the twist transforming fleece into wool or flax into linen,
and the subtle vibrations that flow up the yarn and into my hands
from the twirling tool below.

It also reminded me how much I dislike drawing my hair in a messy ponytail,
so this morning I got out the scissors,
and now there will be NO ponytail drawings
for at least a couple of months.

One final note —issue 20 (Spring 2018) of PLY magazine is devoted to flax,
so I ordered a copy and it came a few days ago.
- info about growing and processing, which of course makes me want to do that,
-articles on scouring and bleaching (another fascinating topic)
​-a fair bit about working with tow top (which so far I don’t like nearly as much as the line).
-and naturally quite a few very useful discussions on spinning (twist, handling the fiber, water in the drafting zone etc).
The only specific how-to discussion of dressing a distaff is by Hannah Merritt Woods,
and she shows a different method again from the sources mentioned above
(fibers hanging straight down rather than swooping across and around),
so I will probably try that eventually too.

In the meantime there is another freshly sized linen warp waiting on my loom.
Cuz yeah -- there is that cool thing to do too.
​