It is a whole new world…

I’m not even sure where to begin this blog, I’ve wanted to write something for a couple of days.  I will not write on current events, politically or otherwise, I swore I would never make this blog about anything other than my life as a fiber artist.  And I’m sticking too that.  Though, I’m currently playing around with a body of art work and themes of the current political climate are creeping into the titles and the shapes of the pieces.  I will blog on that at another date, kind of cool stuff, but what I want to talk about here is the ending of an era.

My era.

Like the 1970’s era.

The 1970’s were probably the most defining decade of my life.  Yes the 80’s were all about my career, and the 90’s were all about raising children, etc, but the 70’s were a time of change, great change for me, I grew up, finished High School, went to college and studied art, weaving and fiber.  I met my future husband and we married in 1978. I met my fiber professor and she stayed on as a friend and mentor until her death a few weeks ago.  I made a lifelong friend of the Swedish Exchange student who lived with us in my senior year of HS, allowing me to travel many times to Europe to meet up with her and her family.  She died three weeks after my husband last June.  But the path of my future as a handweaver, educator, in fact my entire career started with the acquisition of my very first loom, a Tools of the Trade, 45″ 8 shaft with a double sectional back beam, in 1978 with a small inheritance from a deceased grandmother.  $1000 went a long way back then.  

That loom took me through my entire career first as a production weaver for someone else, and then ten years of production weaving, selling my work in craft fairs.  That loom saw many many yards of fabric roll onto the cloth beam.  




I acquired six other Tools of the Trade looms, and I seem to be the go to person whenever someone in the world Googles a question about the loom.  And truth be told, that loom was way more loom than I need right now.  I never weave 45″ across anymore, and it is a big, heavy, solid rock maple loom and my joints are getting a bit old and weary.  I made noises once of finding another home for it, and my daughter threw a fit, insisting that would be her loom when I die.

Fast forward to last Sunday.  My daughter got a new job at a vet hospital an hour west of here, and though she loved the job, she found the commute tiring.  Especially with the winter weather.  If it rains here in January, it is usually snowing there.  And we have had a lot of rain this month.  So she put out a call to the members of one of our weaving guilds, asking if anyone knew of a place to rent, only requirements besides cheap, were she wanted to bring a loom and a puppy.  I won’t comment on the puppy, but last Sunday, I took apart my beloved loom, carefully preserving the warp on it, don’t ask how I managed that, and hauled that 500 pound monster down the stairs with a lot of help, into the back of a truck, and up the flight of stairs in her new digs over the garage of the home of a weaver of course.  I called a guild member who lived close and also owns a Tools of the Trade loom, and she came over and together we reconstructed my loom, now my daughter’s loom, in her new apartment, and when I drove home that night, I realized that all of the things that defined my course in life from the 1970’s had gone on to new places, and my studio and my life are feeling a little empty.  

I will be really honest here and share that there were a few tears when I went in the studio Monday morning.  I have lost a lot this year.  I have lost everything that defined me and my future from the 1970’s.  They were good years.  But all of those people and that solid rock maple loom built a foundation that has stayed with me for four decades and will continue to influence me until I move on from this life.  It is all good.  Really.  And it didn’t take long to spread out and fill the space in a meaningful way.  My fear is she will move back and where will I put that monster.  

I took advantage of the additional space and started weeding through my bobbin lace pillows and materials, also refugees from the 1970’s.  I have not only my collection, but that of my mother in law’s, who has been dead for 10 years.  I donated a car load to the local lace making guild tonight.  It felt really good.  

I have spent the last six months beginning the process of redefining who I am moving forward, and passing this equipment on to a new eager generation means a lot.  Of course I miss my daughter already, but I know she is where she needs to be and I will be fine.  She comes home briefly tomorrow night to pick up her new puppy from a local breeder/friend.  Don’t ask…  

I’ve lots more to tell, but I’ll end tonight, because I’ve had trouble all day with my domain/blogsite, webstore and website, and it has been a very frustrating day with technology.  I want to make sure this loads and you dear readers can actually access it.

Stay tuned…

Comments (18)

JudyJanuary 26th, 2017 at 11:34 pm

, my gosh. So positive and so well described that I am feeling your ups and downs. You are very brave and strong and I admire you . Congratulations on new beginnings .

graceJanuary 26th, 2017 at 11:36 pm

Stash and tools always migrate to the least full spots in a work space!

Karen BartholomewJanuary 26th, 2017 at 11:54 pm

You are SO strong, my friend. You are an inspiration.

NancyJanuary 26th, 2017 at 11:57 pm

My year has been a lot like yours. I really enjoy reading your posts. Working with fibers brings a balance to my world. Thank you.

Katrina HJanuary 27th, 2017 at 2:10 am

What an amazing woman you are. You are inspiring.

KathyJanuary 27th, 2017 at 7:15 am

Time for a Philosophy Club lunch?

Jamie LaMoreauxJanuary 27th, 2017 at 9:36 am

Honey, you have NOT lost your loom, anymore than you “lost” your daughter when she moved out. it’s just taking up space and doing other things. you’ll see it when you visit your daughters new digs and love that someone is using and loving it the way you did. plus you have more space! one less thing to dust and maintain! plus MORE SPACE!!!! it’s a good thing.

Sharon MathewsJanuary 27th, 2017 at 9:47 am

Love your musings Daryl …be well

Candiss Cole-FootittJanuary 27th, 2017 at 10:17 am

Great share Daryl. You have always found a way to land on your feet and find the silver lining.
You have always known this day would come. But actually finding the joy and the sorrow combine to make a new beginning. I admire your ability to move forward.

Elizabeth EJanuary 27th, 2017 at 11:01 am

I get it – facing a life which seems totally open to new changes – scary to the core. Too many choices available. Is there familiarity anywhere? But you go onward, step by step, and always so creatively! I look forward to your every sharing. And yes, a picture of the new puppy, please.

JennyJanuary 27th, 2017 at 11:12 am

I hear you. We certainly do hit places in the road of life where the past suddenly seems to stream away at breakneck speed. Definately can be a bit disorienting. Sometimes reminds me of how I felt when I was 20 and the world was wide open and scarey with possibilities.

NancyJanuary 27th, 2017 at 11:25 am

The loom represents a milestone for you and your daughter. Both of you have woven miles on it and it will still weave more miles, just in another place. And, maybe it will get some puppy bites on it — although I hope not! Love ya,

Mary EhrlichJanuary 27th, 2017 at 12:39 pm

I had a tear in my eye and a frog in my throat reading this blog. It brought back so many memories. It is hard to let go and yet good in so many ways. God bless.

JanetJanuary 27th, 2017 at 1:24 pm

I like reading your weaving-fiber-arts blog or as Sharon said, “your musings”.

I’m happy you do NOT discuss or even mention politics, or current events: too many others are already doing that. Blech. 🙂

melanieJanuary 27th, 2017 at 5:20 pm

I’m so glad that the loom will remain in the family – you can visit it, after all, and now you can see your daughter as she makes it part of her new life. I love this story!

LindaJanuary 27th, 2017 at 7:54 pm

I love this post so much. I’m thankful that even when things in your world are shifting and changing and sad and exciting, you still make time to post. I’m always inspired by your outlook.

MartineJanuary 27th, 2017 at 9:29 pm

Daryl, this it’s a very beautiful way to give us a glimpse in your life. Wish you long years of feeling in the right place and in the right moment. A big hug. SMILES. MARTINE.

Yvonne Scott MadsenFebruary 7th, 2017 at 12:01 pm

I can’t wait to read the next chapter, Daryl. You have so much strength. 🙂

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