Inlay 2: Fiction: Long Time Weaving

By Earl Ingleby

The knuckles of her hands were swollen and once subtle skin wrinkled as she spooled off the thread from the spindle. Deftly she twinned it around her index and little fingers so that it twisted over and under like a simple cat's cradle. Finished she removed the tiny butterfly from her fingers and rolled it between her hands and taking the loose end she entered it into the taut warp and continued weaving. She needed no drawdown or written instructions as she pressed the treadles, changing the shed to the pattern that she could see in her mind as clearly as any full colour illustration. Below her hands she saw the finished weave as it made its way over the front beam, down and around the roller so that the early part was now hidden under what had come later; except the outer edge of the selvage that was visible at each end where it showed bright red, blue and yellow. The structure at the start was a simple one up/one down plain weave. The weaving was all colours and basic shapes free of intellectual complexity and physical dexterity; and she admitted to herself, a little bit rough. But it had been fun doing it.

When she had started there had been no plan, just a desire to create. She knew the constraints of loom and warp so she made it weft dominant so that she controlled the design. She no longer remembered just where she became bored and decided on a bit of variety, sending the weft over two, or three, then under a way, adding strips of leno, tying Danish medallions, even adding supplementary warps and wefts, She did however remember the shock she had felt on looking at it after a break and seeing its chaotic nature. She tried to unweave that part but the complexity defeated her and she had to accept that it was now part of the fabric and that to make major changes would result in the destruction of the rest.

Chastened she subdued her colours and made a firm decision to be more structured and controlled in future. Beautiful violets, vibrant browns, quiet grays and resonant blues showed at the exposed selvedges where she had followed her new directions but it hadn't lasted long.

It was a friend who introduced her to a new thread, it was strong, didn't fray under pressure, added a new lustre to the colours and complemented the structure. Here the colours and cloth assumed a new, deeper aspect as scarlets intermingled with black and gold. It wasn't long before she tried plying both threads together to produce two new and different fibres and for much of the middle of the weave these four threads dominated. While weaving this section she revisited her earlier mistakes and found that some of them had not been total disasters and decided to introduce some changes though in a controlled manner this time. For the most part the changes harmonised but some had had not. By this stage she had decided to accept what had been done and to leave the mistakes in the cloth and remove them when the weaving was finished, after all, some mistakes could be used as inspiration later.

It had taken a long time to weave but it was almost finished, through the castle she could see the warps tied to the back apron, watch them advance towards the heddles every time the cloth was turned around the front roller. She was glad, very glad, that she had not given in to the impulse to cut the warp when the new thread she was using ran out and she discovered it was a one-off dye lot and no longer available. She had tried a couple of substitutes but although they were nice they hadn't really worked, thank God she had plied sufficient mixed threads to finish the piece but without one of the original threads she had been forced to subdue her colours again so that tans, ochres and quiet blues predominated in the latter part of the fabric and although this part was working well it was not quite as she intended.

As she wove towards the end her fingers and hands were growing sore, her legs felt a little strained from treadling and she was getting very tired but she did so much want to finish it tonight. It was her best piece ever and she was ever so pleased that it was almost done.


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