Well hello!
How curious, suddenly,
to be here in the shortening days
of this somewhat odd summer
 (in the Northern Hemisphere at any rate).
Between the super hot bits
and the super smoky bits
and the super dry bits
and all the stuff going on
in our lives
with our friends
and in the world,
every day has been
well -- itself,
and sometimes...a lot.
Yet here we are.

It even rained the day before yesterday--
a few brief hours of delicious thundery damp
after months of being parched.
 I'd just cleared the clogged downspouts, too.
Isn't it amazing
when things work out?

Actually lots of things have worked out--
my collard crop, for instance, is incredible,
the freezer is filled with frozen berries,
and our local farmer's market provides all bounty
I am not enough of a gardener to grow.
I try, of course, and have managed
to have fresh lettuce almost every day
despite the heat.

But this summer I've been more cartoonist
than gardener or weaver,
which to my astonishment means that
another thing that has worked out is
this new comic zine/guide thingy:
of coffee filters and rabbit holes
and I like it!

The project has been
  a great companion these many months--
the process of bringing it to you
as beguiling as the coffee filter yarn itself.
How lucky can I get?

Luckier still, of course,
is that I also truly enjoy revising--
 drawing, re-drawing,
getting feedback,
thinking of a new approach,
writing and re-writing--
just as I adore transforming the filters themselves
into tapestries and sweater and baskets and imaginary future garments.

Not that I am doing any of the latter.
My arm/hand stuff is massively better
thanks to endless stretches and exercises and support
and rest from all those beloved activities--
but I remain careful and cautious.
I mean, why risk a relapse?

And truly,
drawing and writing and thinking about making things
is pretty darned satisfying in itself--
especially once the arm/hand/neck issues
improved enough
to hold  pencils and pens
for longish periods of time.

One of the interesting things about creating this guide
has been that even as it describes the process of making a particular yarn,
it also draws on all sorts of other ideas I've explored in the past--
indeed, it reminds me how very many rabbit holes
have enveloped me over the years--
far more than could possibly fit into one reasonably sized comic--
and for a time that felt like a bit of a problem.

"If I say that, I've got to explain how to do it!"

My solution was to add at the end
a four page Glossary/Resources section.
And what a blast that was!
Naturally it could have been far longer than it is
(who knew glossaries were addictive?)
but I think it will still provide a few pointers
in case you want to brush up on some technique,
or are yourself beguiled by the odd side passage
in this paper yarn making rabbit hole...

And if perchance you're newish to this blog and my work
and want to see/read more about
how this coffee filter yarn thing unfolded,
check out my Tapestry Archive for 2019, 2020, and 2021,
or click the coffee filter yarn button in the side bar,
or type coffee filter yarn into the search bar at the top of the page.

So here it is:
of coffee filters and rabbit holes
a 40 page black and white PDF
 now in the webstore ready for you to download.

Note on downloading the PDF
(in case it isn't clear from the website )
Once the transaction is complete
you will get an email receipt with your download link.
Click on that and it should go onto whatever device you are using.
The downloads are not limited to one device,
so you can use that same link on several if you want
(also, in case one thingy works better than another).
If you have trouble, please let me know by replying to the receipt email.

I think that's about it,
other than to note that one great thing about hot dry weather
is that laundry dries really really fast,
and the grass (actually mostly yarrow, dandelion, and bindweed truth to tell)
grows really really slowly.

Oh-- actually one MORE thing before I go--
well, maybe two--

One:
Tapestry Design: Basics and Beyond by Tommye McClure Scanlin 
a beautiful, helpful and inspiring book
is now out in the world filled with tapestry goodness and support.
There are even instructions on how to build
one of my favorite portable tapestry looms --
the tiny Archie Brennan style galvanized pipe loom.
I'm also lucky enough have a tapestry included in its pages.
Truly, a lovely supportive book --
with a spiral binding no less so that like
Jean Pierre  and Yadin LaRochette's wonderful Anatomy of a Tapestry
it will stay open on the page you are reading.
So very thoughtful.
Here is a review by the ever amazing Rebecca Mezoff,

What a time this is for tapestry books
and, indeed, full on tapestry immersion. 
Tommye's other book, The Nature Of Things
Rebecca Mezoff's  The Art of Tapestry Weaving
and Micala Sidore's The Art is the Cloth
and online classes galore.
Time to warp those looms.

 Two:
 I wanted to share a link to this
delightful and soothing video
that my son Henry made,
showing the re-skinning of (and then fishing from),
a little coracle that I helped him make
with willow wands about ten years ago,
a wee craft he has since used hard enough
that this is its third cloth covering!

The first one we built when he was 10 or 11 years old
and not surprisingly, it ended up
in a couple of tapestries,
and an egg tempera painting.

Life is so weird and curious sometimes, isn't it?

And speaking of weird
(cuz who knew I'd ever make coracles
much less weave  and knit with coffee filters)
I should probably to put another link
here at the bottom:

So friends, I give you...
 of coffee filters and rabbit holes!

As you probably can tell--
we're continuing to have
​ a great time.

At least I am.
Though I still know so little

Indeed, though I can, apparently
describe a few actions:
"here we did this
​and there we tried that"--

And really, how could I know
if the approach we took on such and such a day
​with a batch of last year's stalks
(very little of which I had time to process
back then when it was fresh)--

--will hold tomorrow
​when I have slowed down still more
and had my prejudices exposed
yet again
by this toughly gentle plant?

In these photos, for instance,
having combed and re-combed
for consistency,
I documented the careful separation 
of the fibers by length.
It seemed a good idea at the time,
for is't that how a person is supposed to learn--
documenting the evidence
for later perusal,
​critique and summation?
And isn't it essential to 
show my work?

Also, this is the process I used
with the batch of fresh stalks
​I wrote about here and here
and though I didn't outline each step
my categorizing brain
had already decided 
this was THE WAY TO DO IT.
​You can see the resulting skeins
neatly laid out below
​(and captioned!)

Except --
this life is not
 an algebra exam.
There is no paper to write,
no quiz.
 I'm not applying for a grant,
or, indeed, waiting for any power
to give their nod of approval
and tell me I am
(or am not)
doing viable work
in accordance with
some list of measurable criteria. 

(I don't even have to worry
about my permanent record
that loathsome childhood school threat--
"time to tow the line
as everything, from now on,
goes on your permanent record."
Does anyone else remember that?)

Now that I think about it though,
the milkweed itself
may well be taking note.
How else could some processes 
seem so utterly natural
​and others -- just a little off?
The strands, however,
speak directly to my hands,
and neither uses words,
so they generally  do their thing
without connecting 
to the recording device in my brain--

which may well be why
it took me ages to notice
that ​"grading" the fiber by length
made me feel kind of icky--
to understand that I was using the ruler
as a kind of 'goodness measure,"
 creating a hierarchy
where none needed to exist--
 imposing my internalized beliefs
and  accompanying judgements
about efficiency, control, and organization
onto a plant that will contentedly grow
by the side of a gravel road,
spaced as it wants to be spaced,
feeding butterflies
and producing amazing fiber---
 all of which is useful.

It's that idea
​that agriculture isn't a thing
unless the plants
are in rows. 
At any rate,
and for whatever reason,
when I had the good fortune
to get another 7 or so
fresh stalks of  Milkweed
from a friend's "garden waste pile,"
I decided to forgo the combing altogether.

And the medium sized lengths of fiber,
are twisting into cordage just beautifully,
complimenting the longer pieces
to make the whole
even smoother than it was before.

What  I'll do with the yarn --
when I'm done--
whenever that will be--
I've absolutely no idea.
 I know for sure today
is that the more time I spend with this fiber
and the slower we go,
the longer I want this part
to last. 

ps -- because there always seem to be
one or two (or four) more things to say:

1.
A lovely handmade book
about another milkweed relationship:
Poor (Wo)man's Asparagus
by Velma Bolyard

2.
The Nature of Things:
Essays of a Tapestry Weaver
by Tommye McClure Scanlin
will also be out this fall and though
I didn't realize it when listing books last week, 
it is also available for pre-order from your favorite bookseller.
Wonderfully inviting essays on Tommye's design process and tapestry life.

3.
Nettle Fiber Resources
For those of you who have access to Nettles rather than milkweed
Allan Brown shares many resources here and here
and
Sally Pointer has several Nettle Videos. Here's one. 
Of course nettles are not milkweed (as I keep finding out!),
any more than milkweed is flax, 
though apparently, nettle can handle some flax-like techniques!

4.
​And just because:
A marvelous blog by Tracy Hudson --
Thoughtful in all the ways I find satisfying

So I had an idea a few days ago --

--one of those un-ignorable
"must try this RIGHT NOW"
kind of ideas.

Can you guess what I was after?

It was not,
I have to say,
 the coracle it apparently turned out to be.

No, I was going for something
a touch more practical--
something apropos to the world
in which we now live.
Cuz everyone needs a face mask, eh?

Clearly, the idea didn't work.
At least as an object.
As a concept though....
​maybe. 

Pulled warp is something
I messed around with back in about 2003
when I was developing projects
for my book Kids Weaving.
The book includes several projects
for weaving on cardboard looms
including the Rag Doll Warrior you see here,
and I thought pulled warp would be
interesting and unexpected
(the turtle was adorable),
Unfortunately, it involved adding
another warping method, 
​so fell by the wayside.

What joy, then,
to suddenly remember
the existence of that long ago sketch
while chatting (via Zoom, as usual),
about the making of face masks
with some dear friends.
Would the idea be workable?

Not that I expected it to actually function,
or be a substitute for the 'real thing'
(whatever that is;
opinions, you've probably noticed,
vary widely--if perhaps not this widely).

Certainly choosing to weave my prototype
with used coffee filter yarn--
probably not the most
virus-proof material out there
even if  spun from a material
with the word 'filter' in its name
and designed to have boiling water
poured through it --
did not earmark it
to have a life in the real world

But I am a weaver,
and pulled warp is a thing,
(check out Susan Iverson ​and Sue Weil  ),
and I had a a PVC loom put together,
so why not try?

Wanting it to be a dense fabric 
(viruses etc -- even if I wasn't planning to actually use it),
I wove it on the PVC loom because
I could  work at 8 epi vs. the 4 of a cardboard loom.
Otherwise, cutting out the  template
and using the cut out bits as spacers
was the same as in the original.

It also tickled my fancy
to use the PVC loom
since I'd developed it
specifically for Kids Weaving--
(cuz really a subversive Adult book)

The loom, as I've said before,
is ​based on Archie Brennan's Copper Pipe design,
and skips all the hard parts,
like cutting (and mining) copper,
​drilling, braising, and using threaded rod.
It is also totally functional for tapestry.
​And did I say cheap?

Anyway, the weaving went quite fast
since I just made stripes.
It seemed counterproductive to put slits into the fabric,
though it has occurred to me since
that a series of little slits all around the edge
would make it easy to thread a ribbon 
for  head attachment.

I made the mistake of using
rather wimpy cotton yarn for warp
so had/have to be super careful
pulling it into shape
and can't do the kind of fine tuning
that might actually make the thing
a little more useful.
Seine Twine would be MUCH better
Because...nose shaping, anyone?

I also made it too tall for my face
though the width (aprox 9"), is about right.
Right, that is, 
if one were going to make one for real--
perhaps with a lining for security
and indigo dyed yarn
for the extra bit of magic
and some clever way to attatch it--
none of which 
I'm actually going to do.

No, what I'm going to do,
​when I have to leave my house
​(which I hope is almost never),
is continue to wear one of the
elegant pleated cloth masks
sewn by my dear friend Nicole,

let this lovely creature
use my experiment for her boat
(because a gal really does need a coracle),

then return my attention
to the ever increasing light
in the Northern Hemisphere,
and the making of
the perfectly useless
and entrancing
objects.

I do have a sneaking hope
that someone will take the pulled warp face mask idea,
 do something really wonderful with it,
so if you do, please let us all know!

Otherwise,
if you want to make something else,
since this seems to be a project-based post
and because Kids Weaving is now out of print
(link is to ABE books where you can find used copies
since I don't  make a penny from sales anyway--
never did, truth to tell),
I'm going to attach some pics
of the Rag Doll Warrior project
just in case you need them,
and end this super long post
and ridiculously long sentence.

Be well,
stay home if you can,
be careful if you can't,
smile as often as possible,
​cuz it helps.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Over the last few months
I've written again and again
about the bliss of making 
​(and using)
coffee filter yarn.
NOTE: To explore these posts, click the  coffee filter yarn, cellulosic experiments or tapestry buttons in the sidebar

The filters, as I've mentioned,
​ come from my friend Jodi,
 the colors from her process 
of turning plants and minerals
into pigments,
that she then transforms
​into watercolors.

Most of my coffee filter yarn posts
include links to her Instagram
​and if you want to know more 
about lake pigments (pictured above)
and mineral pigments (pictured below),
​I highly recommend you click and scroll
for she has generously shared
a great deal of information on her feed.

On my end though,
for all the photos of cutting,
 adding twist,
and weaving
what I have not talked about
is how the colors
 stick to the filters
​ in the first place.
​
And the reason for this 
is that they don't. 

Unlike dyes,
which chemically bond with a fiber or a mordant,
or watercolors (and other paints),
where the finished pigment is mixed with a binder,
the particles of color on the filters
are essentially resting in place,
a bit like stains,
and are thus both fragile and potentially fugitive.

At first I didn't care about this--
didn't, in fact, even think about it. 
I just wanted to learn and play.
They were just coffee filters for goodness sake,
fished from Jodi's garbage can.
But as I spun more of them,
 wove paper tapestries,
and made the tapestries into books,
I couldn't help but notice
the occasional bit of color
​ coming off on my hands.

Not, I hasten to say,
the stuff from the grocery store,
but rather the white milky liquid
you get when 
a handful of soybeans,
has been
soaked,
rinsed,
crushed,
thoroughly masticated with water,
(faster with a blender than a suribachi 
if not as photogenic),
then filtered
​and
diluted.

At its most elemental,
it works like this:
when applied to fibers,
the proteins in the soy
(long chain polymers),
literally grab both the pigment particles
and the particles of paper
(or fiber if that is what you are using),
and hold on
in a kind of ever-tightening group hug
that won't let go,
the bond growing stronger over time
as the soy cures.

The process is called polymerization.
(explanation seriously oversimplified, of course).

There is info on using soy milk for dyeing
around the world and across the web,
but since I learned about it
many years ago
from the amazing John Marshall
I will send you straight to 
-his recipe for making soy milk,
-his book, Salvation Through Soy,
and hope that while you are there
you check out more of his website
for his work in all areas
(katazome, fresh indigo dyeing, historic Japanese textiles....)
is fascinating and comprehensive.
He is also a generous and lovely person
and puts on a damned fine workshop.

At any rate,
one of the ways that John uses soy milk
is as a "post sizing"--
a kind of fabric finish
that protects the cloth as well as binding the pigment
and that is the way I have been using it--
as though the filters were finished cloth.
Ideally,
I would have dipped
all of the colored filters in soy milk
the moment they arrived from Jodi
so they could have been curing
during the months I was working on other things.
Buy since I did not think about it then,
I've now been using it in three ways:

1.  dipping the remaining uncut filters and letting them dry

2. winding the paper yarn onto my willow distaffs,
painting the strands (as in the photo above),
then re-winding onto paper purns when dry.

3. painting the soy milk onto finished tapestries.

And that is where I am now.

The first batch of yarn and uncut filters
has been curing for about a month,
and though it is probably a little early,
I may soon cut and spin a few
and try some rub tests,
just to see.

I'll also probably continue
to treat the finished tapestries with soy milk--
not only to keep the pigments in place
but also for the long term protection
(what John has called the 'natural scotch-guard' effect),
provided the cured polymer--
especially those tapestries that will  go on
to have a working life.

I'll keep you posted as I learn more,
and in the meantime,
feel free to use the comments
to share your own information
and experiences 
with all of us.
Thanks!
​Now, back to it.

I didn't intend to start a
​ Somewhat Slanted Sweater.
And I definitely didn't intend
to knit a cardigan.

Pullovers are more my style.
And I already had a knitting project
​for my June travels.

Except I'd just released the pattern,

​and my lovely mother
​had begun to knit one,

and, well... 

suddenly this delicious yarn
was asking to be a rectangle
instead of a square,
and I was adding buttonholes...
and what could I do but enjoy?

So I did --
And perhaps because I didn't really plan it,
the whole thing 
was a seriously good time.

Except, that is,
until the time came
to choose the buttons.
Nothing was right --
not a single button in the house--
not even those with lives of their own
on other garments.

I was about to start 
sawing rounds from a dead lilac branch
 when my disgruntled brain
saw the wisdom of sewing up the front
with a pice of string,
throwing the sweater in a tub of water
and going to have lunch.
​Maybe the problem was blood sugar.

The ribbon, alas, was not quite long enough,
but a few snips of some silk long underwear
(indigo dyed, long since worn to shreds
​and saved for some purpose I can no longer recall),
produced a flexible and stretchy cord
that somehow felt perfect.

The cardigan 
had become a pullover.

Here's the view from the top.

And from below.
(I do so love the swooping side seams).

My brain exploding with possibility,
I headed back to the drawing board.

Actually, most of the PDF is the same,
just 16 pages instead of 12.
The extra four pages include
info on knitting  bias rectangles
(for cardigans and rectangular  sweaters)
and two approaches to stripes
(for felting and non-felting yarn).

note--the first version of this sweater was striped, but I didn't talk about about the oddities of stripes on the bias in original pattern
so I've added a little info, mostly on spit splicing 

If you have already have the pattern
you can re-download the new version
using the link in your original receipt.
I'll also send everyone who already owns it
those four pages via email.
Just in case you deleted your receipt
or it doesn't work for some reason.

Everyone else -- the Somewhat Slanted PDF the store
is the new and updated version.

Oh yes -- and one more thing!
Last Saturday's Live Webinar
with Rebecca Mezoff was a blast --
an hour of tapestry immersion,
including post card discussion,
 a ton of great questions,
and a bit of ridiculousness
(including me pointing at the screen
that you can't see
and a too-close view
of the chest of my new shirt)
There was even the wonderful surprise 
of Michael Rohde popping in 
to talk about making
his SUPER tiny tapestry pipe looms.
You can watch the reply on Youtube
right HERE.

So i’m in new Hampshire,
knitting with coffee filters.

You know how it goes.
A gal is visiting family
and the conversations turns
​to making yarn out of trash--
as it does--

and your enthusiastic mother
jumps up to fish a couple of
used filters from the compost bin,
rinses them off and sets them to dry
so that when you return from visiting a beloved cousin,
​you can do a little spinning
​and she--your lovely mum--
can take photos of the process.

These large round Chemex (sp?) filters
were new to me,
so of course
it was extra interesting.

(I’ve written blog posts about spinning coffee filters but for some reason I can’t specifically link them while writing this on the road and in the weebly app so alas, you’ll have search a little to find them if interseted).

Then it turned out that a few
of the many wonderful people
​who have started Somewhat Slanted
weren’t familiar with beginning a row
with a YO (Yarn Over),
so yesterday I plied the yarn
and took some photos on the back steps
to (hopefully), make it more clear.

(Please forgive all out of focus moments
as I was using my big toe to click the button
while my hands were occupied).

So here goes:
​Yarn Over Increase starting from a single stitch:

1. make a slip knot and put it on the left needle.

2. Bring the Yarn Over the right needle
(or, as my mother says, bring the Needle Under the yarn)

3. Insert needle into the slip knot/ loop as usual

4. Wrap yarn

5. Complete Stitch
​ — you now have two stitches

6. Switch hands and repeat steps 2 - 5:

-Yarn Over
-insert needle
-wrap yarn
-complete stitch

Continue as per the
Somewhat Slanted Guide
until it is time to decrease,
by which time the YO thing
​should be easy as pie.

The other issue that has come up with Somewhat Slanted
has to do with making color changes with the stripes.
This is not, alas, a thing I can do with coffee filter yarn
(surprisingly pleasant though it is to knit with),
as I only have one color just now.
Also, coffee filter yarn doesn’t felt,
and I used a Spit Splice (aka Felted Join)
which requires wool or a wool blend (not superwash).
I may eventually do some drawings about the splice
but hopefully the Interweave link above will work for you.
Or just Google Spit Splice
and you’ll find all kinds of info.

Though I haven’t yet done stripes with cotton,
I imagine it would work
to tie the two colors together at the edge leaving long tails,
knit along as though they were spliced
then later untie the knots and weave in the ends to
form the YO loops.

But that is just theory right now.
Anyone tried it? Be great to know.

Also — has anyone knit more than a little square
with the coffee filter yarn?
It’s weirdly nice.
I might mess around with this little square
and see how it holds up.
Who knows?
​Who EVER knows?

A few months ago
my aunt had her hip replaced.
Happily, all went well
and she is once again
meandering in the woods with her dog.

Though totally surprised 
(I'm kind of weird about gifts),
I  was nonetheless thrilled
and knew exactly
what I was going to do.
The wall devoted to 
Harrisville Hydro Turbine
had caught my eye last winter
when I bought the yarn
​ for the Long Sarah-Dippity,
and for all my hand spinning ways,
I know yummy yarn when I see it.

No matter that bulky yarn season
should have been ending right around then --
these round and airy skeins
​seemed destined to become a heftier version 
of the  Summer Six Pack Sweater--
 a comfortable and versatile favorite for the last three years.

How fluffy Turbine yarn
would behave within the bias structure
remained to be seen--
​certainly it would be quite different 
than​ the collection of hand spun odds and ends
that made up the earlier striped garment.
And the not knowing made it extra compelling.

Luckily this sweater does not need
a gauge swatch before starting,
so I could cast on for the actual sweater
the moment I got home from the yarn store,
and start finding out.

 When I first blogged about The Six Pack Sweater
several people asked for a pattern
(or at least some kind of guide
 beyond  the vague thing I wrote on the post),
but somehow it didn't happen--
at least back then.
This spring, however,
​the versatility of the idea,
gave me the extra impetus to start drawing.

Alas, it is one thing knit
and design as you go,
and quite another to write a helpful guide
that other people can use
to knit a garment they love,
​ in the size of their choice,
with yarn they have, or want to try,
at  whatever gauge makes both yarn and knitter happy.
​
So it has taken me longer than I thought.

Plus ... ah...
​ I have been spinning
the odd yard of flax.

Today, however,
​I am now thrilled to announce that
A Sweater -- Somewhat Slanted
is now available in the store
as a PDF download.

Like my other zines and PDFs 
this is a guide booklet
for creating your own adventure
(not a pre-calculated set of instructions).
This means that 
some straightforward math
​ (formulas provided),
is part of the thrill.
Aren't you excited?

Somehow, I kind of think you actually are.
There is just so much pleasure
in making decisions--
even hard ones--
when it mean we will end up
with a personal and magical garment
we will actually wear and use.
(And somehow, I don't think armhole depth
will be the biggest decision you'll ever make).

If you give it a try,
will you let me know how it goes?

Does anyone else get a thrill
when an idea that seems fixed
is suddenly turned on its head?
This happened to me just a few weeks ago
and I'm beside myself with delight.

I've been writing about PVC Pipe looms
since about 2003
when I first began to work 
​on my book Kids Weaving.
There, we used these looms
to weave inkle shoelaces, blankets,
scarves, bags, a ​tapestry dog collar,
​ and even knotted pile.

It's not a perfect loom by any stretch,
but it does have some serious advantages:
-- simple to make with readily available hardware store materials.
--easy to assemble (and disassemble),
--an adaptable design, 
-- inexpensive (esp compared with almost any other loom on the market)
--homely (everything you weave will look better than your loom)
--portable (you can weave almost anywhere)

I've blogged about them several times:
-October 2015: PVC Pipe Loom
-January 2016: Four Selvedge Tutorial
-February 2016: Long Warp/ Short Loom (continuous warping)

They are also an important component of Fringeless,
(the Four Selvedge class with Rebecca Mezoff),
and I use them regularly in my work.

For all these years though,
and in all these places, 
I've put the floating tension bar
at the bottom of the loom.
Then Judy Smith, 
who chose to build a PVC loom for the Fringeless Class,
put her tension bar at the TOP!
Judy shared a photo on the Fringeless private facebook group
and though I am not on facebook,
Rebecca thought I should see the fabulous work Judy had done.
She (Rebecca), thought she was showing me tapestry,
little knowing that I would get double the pleasure
when I also caught a glimpse
of the configuration of Judy's loom.

Of course I promptly had to try it --
and the reality was even better than I imagined.

The main difference is in the ease of set-up,
as the floating bar does not have to be
held in position with tape
while the warp is put on
(as shown in the third drawing at the top of this post).
It simply hangs in position
while the warp is wound on.

​Another advantage is that
 the weaving area is several inches lower 
so considerably easier on a weaver's back.
​
Also, the tension straps are out of the way
​leaving more room to work.

Alas, I don't have a photo of Judy's Loom and Tapestry
but happily Judy gave me permission to share her thoughts,
and here is what she has to say:
Love my pvc loom. I think I set it up that way because I was used to the top bar being tensioned when I did Navajo style weaving. A little more about that loom: most of the loom is made of the heavier pvc (#40 something) 1” size. It is all lined with the thickest wooden dowels that will fit inside in an effort to prevent bending. The “tension bar” is a 1 1/4” dowel. That will not bend. That bar just happened to fit into a slightly different pvc (must have been 1 1/4”) that both held the sturdy wooden bar and slid on the 1” pvc side bars. 
Love the fringeless technique. Being used to Navajo weaving, I hated dealing with fringe when a piece was finished. If weaving an actual rug (really going to put it on the floor), then I would want the toughness of the Navajo edges. But for all else- I sure love the fringeless.

Wow, Judy --
this is so helpful, both to me
and to anyone else who might want to try a PVC Loom.
Though I, too, have reinforced the PVC with interior dowels,
it is not a thing I've done for a while
and I appreciate the reminder. 
As for the position of the tension bar --
the idea is so wonderful and obvious that I feel a bit dense
for never having thought of it in all these years,
and can't thank you enough
for your vision
and for blowing my mind.
​Sharing ideas is just the BEST.

​One of these fine days I might get it together
to draw an instruction booklet 
on ways to warp this loom,
but for now, the links above will have to do.
Kids Weaving, though now out of print,
is also still a great source of information--
copies can be found at close to the original price.
And now we have Judy's idea 
that I get to add to the PVC Loom canon
and share here, with you. 

So now that I've waxed nostalgic
from looking at Kids Weaving
and thinking of the grand time we had
making stuff on those looms,
 I'll close with this photo
 taken in the late 1990s by Jodi Gear
(of the Pigment-dyed coffee filters I wrote about last week).

It feels astonishing to me
that I  still have the dress (if not the hair),
am still making yarn to weave with,
and happily,
still have a thing or two
or ten
​ to learn
​about all of it.

So just when I start thinking
that turning coffee filters into yarn
is interesting and satisfying
but not necessarily
​my absolute favorite thing in the world...

my friend Jodi Gear
sends the exquisite 
naturally pigmented coffee filters
she has used to make
 handmade watercolors 
(many of which I get to test--how lucky is that)?

She was going to throw them away --
the point, after all, was the pigment they contained--
but then fished them from the garbage
​because they were just so pretty.

​SO pretty, 
and springy
and joyous
that I was diverted from
the thrilling project I intended to write about today--

 to spend more time
with these colors
as snow falls from the sky--
again.

Happily, it turns out
that not only are the filters lovely 
but they are also easier to spin 
than the heavier brown ones I've used so far

Round rather than cone shaped,
they are also lighter in weight
so I get a finer yarn for a given width of cut.
They are also strong,
which made them easy to handle
when I dunked a few into an indigo pot
to get greens and purples. 
(Jodi has done a LOT of cochineal experiments!)

As I've written before
I'm a newbie at this business of spinning paper,
but nonetheless I thought it'd be fun to share
a technique for transforming
a round piece of filter paper
into a continuous strip
​that can be twisted into yarn--
​in case you want to try too.

1. Fold the filter in half.
2. Cut from one folded edge to 1/2 inch (1cm) from the other
following the curve.
​DO NOT CUT THROUGH at the end of the cut.

3. Make a second cut parallel to the first
and approximately 1/4 inch away
4. Continue cutting parallel  strips  as shown,
always stopping about 1/2 inch from the other folded edge,
until the entire filter is in strips joined at one edge.

5. Open out the filter with the uncut edge up.
6. Cut from top slit at an angle through to the edge
​making a free end as shown two photos down.

6. Cut at an angle from the next slit
to the one diagonally across from it
(offset by one as shown).

7. Continue connecting the offset slits in this way
until the entire circle is one continuous strip.
--It's probably a good idea to make sure it doesn't tangle as you go
​but I'm a little casual about this,
so have to be gentle when handling it.

The paper spins best when slightly moist
so at this point I've found it best to wrap it in a damp cloth
and let it sit for half an hour or so.
(hankie soaked in water and squeezed out really thoroughly).
Before I read about the Hankie Method
I misted it lightly all over with a squirt bottle,
tossing gently to make sure the paper was evenly damp,
but the hankie method seems to work better.
The amount of moisture is apparently unique
for every kind of paper
and every atmospheric condition
so I've had to practice and adjust...
Too much water and the paper falls apart in my hands.
Too little and it doesn't want to accept the twist.
Experiment!

The coffee filter paper is far stronger
than, say, the variable annuity semi-annual report pages I've used
but it still won't take a lot of pressure 
(too much 'suck' on a spinning wheel would snap it instantly),

so I've been doing most of the twisting 
with my Ashford Charkha, 
which has a very low drive ratio.
Other twisting ideas:
Charlotte, a weaver, has used her bobbin winder to great effect
twisting old sewing pattern pieces into yarn
My lightest high whorl Hepty Spindle (20 grams) works well,
and imagine a supported or Medieval spindle would also be great.

But back to the charkha:
I make a kind of purn 
by wrapping the spindle shaft with a piece of scrap paper,
 taping it at the overlap so it won't unroll while I'm starting to spin.
This allows me to remove the fiber from the spindle 
without unrolling it while it is still damp and fragile.
It's also a handy way to store the yarn.

Sometimes, if I'm in a hurry,
instead of winding the yarn onto a bobbin
​I even weave with these purns.
It's not particularly effective, 
(no tapping the yarn into place and sometimes they come unwound),
​but alas, I do it anyway.

This yarn from Jodi's filters
is the nicest that I've made so far--
almost as fine and and pleasant to use
as the samples that Velma sent me.

It's not my beloved wool, of course.
Nor, indeed, is it as blissful to weave with
as hand spun linen (though a damn site easier to spin).
But I like it.
It has possibilities.
I might eventually try to use it
for something other than tapestry.
Just what I do not know.
But most yarnish experiments are worth a try--
even when the precious materials
have been rescued from the trash.

And oh golly, these colors feel like spring.

There is so much richness in this material
I hope you will give it a try.
And if you do,
please keep us posted about your experiments, K?

In October 2017,
I had an idea for a skirt.
My thought was to combine
shaped, hand knit panels
with my myriad backstrap experiments
to build a flexible and fitted garment. 

It was just an experiment.
​
Definitely a one-off.

Though not usually short ones--
or at least I haven't since the early 1970s
when my mother and grandmother tsk tsked 
over my desire to share more adolescent leg
than they thought fitting or attractive.

But attractive is as attractive does
(whatever that really means),
and anyway, the skirts are fun at any age--
to make and to wear.

The simple structure makes fitting a breeze--
the unbeatable texture of specially selected (or spun) yarn,
the underlying energy of hand woven cloth,
the built-in stretchiness of  hand knit panels
all work together to to make each skirt
as comfy as plain leggings--
and as long or short as I want
(​or fabric length will allow).

note: my skirts are mostly short because I made them 
using existing color and weave experiments
designed, warped and woven
with no thought to future leg coverage.

Anyway,
I've long wanted to share the idea
and fully intended to have these instructions done
shortly after the concept showed up.
Backstrap Dialogues,
(the instructional story zine that led to
the cloth that led to Sarah-Dippity),
was freshly out in the world
and somehow I imagined
that after a 56 page comic,
 a straightforward skirt guide
​ would take a mere few weeks!
​Sigh.

​But finally, after writing and re-writing,
drawing and re-drawing,
and overriding a firm decision
to shelve it permanently,
​(shows what I know),
I am beyond pleased
that Phineas reminded me
about the underlying joy
of the garments themselves--
(well, he bullied me just a bit,
​ as only a squirrel can do,
insisting that other weavers and knitters 
might well want
to cover their butts
​with their own magnificent cloth).

So HERE IT IS, 
freshly loaded into my web store:
a 16 page downloadable PDF guide
​ to using your cloth (hand woven or otherwise),
and your yarn (knit at a gauge that suits your hands and taste),
to make a garment that fits your body,
your life and your style. 

And to help celebrate the joy of hand woven cloth,
hard copies of Backstrap Dialogues
are now on sale for $13 
(I love prime numbers)
with free shipping.

Endless thanks to Phineas, for spurring me on,
and my ever patient reader/testers,
for all their support.