For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb
Psalm 139:13

Thursday, 1 October 2009

Let me look and let me try, to find a poem in the sky. I will dream up something new and weave words from it's boundless blue

Not strictly knitting, but once again I took my tapestry weaving out onto the mean streets. This was a couple of weeks ago.

Having utterly failed to complete my weaving in the last session before uni, and with a dozen and a half things to do, I set out to the bus stop. While waiting, had a good natter with a nice old lady about my woollen creation. Nothing like public transport and yarn to bring people together. I visited my weaving teacher to finish off, then had to grab another bus to the art shop to obtain some overpriced sketchbooks.

Cutting the weaving loose from the frame, I experienced a fear much akin to making the first solid brushstrokes on a blank canvas - this could all go horribly wrong! However, no misfortunes, it stayed intact. Amber had taught me how to wrap the ends of the warp to make tassels. I still have yet to bead, trim and stitch along the top edge.

Anyhow, cutting it loose meant I was obliged to hook a big empty frame over my shoulder and attempt to appear normal. Excellent. On the bus I tied up most of the remaining ends. That day's reaction to weaving was decidedly reserved and British. In a weird way, I'd become accustomed to foreign men in vests yelling "chao!" or "Is that yours?" whenever I took the weaving out. I suppose a sizeable wooden frame trailing multicoloured yarns and buttons is quite conspicuous.

Weaving: 6%
Stares/Amused glances: 0
Comments: 1, the chat with the lady at the bus stop, which began with "What's that?" and much pointing.

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