Rowing Out to My Ship

A week ago today, Friday, was the last possible day to weave anything new for Pat's package to New Mexico.

Thursday night I was feeling defeated by the pile of stuff I had been preparing for two weeks. And, yeah, that was the day I kept toying with the idea of giving it all up and selling all the stash, the equipments, the books, and coming here to delete this blog. Oh, the drama! I told Ronette I would miss my last figure drawing class because I needed to do "this", which she understood.

On Friday, from 7.30 to 11AM, I created/modified a draft for a merino-warp scarf, a draft I didn't much care for. At 11, I had breakfast, did a bit of housework, and tried to calm down and figure out the right thing to do in the short time remaining. I had three choices; I could weave a tad-shorter-than-average piece on the white merino warp on the loom, OR measure and wind a new, black merino warp and tie it on, (and afterwards weave a few men's scarves I've been asked for), OR take out the merino and wind, rethread, and resley the gold cotton warp I've had sitting since February. And I went with the cotton.

I don't remember what else I did to procrastinate, but I didn't get to the cotton until late in the afternoon, and I had some tension problems so I couldn't weave until 9PM, but I knew this next piece I'll love, and the inordinate length of time to prepare the warp didn't bother me. I wove 1/4 of the piece on Friday, and 3/4 Saturday morning.

Saturday afternoon, I put cloth labels, care instruction card and sample yarns on all the other pieces, typed up a wholesale price list in NZ dollars for Pat, wrote a short letter of intro to the gallery, sewed the ends of the cotton scarf, washed it, pressed it, labeled it, and put on the card and sample yarns. When we finally arrived at Pat's house, the cotton was still moist. I had two cottons, two cashmere/silks, and two big merino/possum/silk shawls from a lifetime ago. And the wee cashmere for Pat as thanks. I was relieved I finally made up a decent 'set', but was honestly distraught I wasn't able to weave more spectacularly in the course of two weeks, and I didn't get why I so willingly lost my cool with this "project".

Luckily we had theater tickets that night, so I didn't have to come home and be confronted by the mess I left all over the house, and in my mind.

I still don't understand the emotional drama that was Santa Fe. It felt bigger than anything I had undertaken; I felt am a minnow in the puddle and, is it a self-fulfilled prophecy, the stuff I wove in these two weeks met my expectations of insignificance and unworthiness. Anyway, that's over and done with; I hope to either forget, or be able to laugh at myself, soon.

For exhibitions I weave anything I want, because I enter shows to show what I like, without worrying about what anybody else likes. For commission pieces, I have felt a similar dread from time to time, but I discuss things with clients beforehand so I get a sense of their preferences. But a gallery I've never visited that specializes in textiles? It was like weaving blind-folded.

I'm glad I have a cotton warp on the big loom now. I needed it for my next project, so I've had a head start. And I'm back to normal; not so emotionally/frantically invested in my designs; only doing my thing the way I like to do.

My friend Trish sent me this card for no reason, (she said so on the inside). She knows me well; perhaps better than she realizes. It made me feel a little less of a clown/fool/minnow.

"If your ship hasn't come in, row out to meet it."