brought to you by

the letter l

Linen—¹

—lilac—

—laundry—

—line;

lightning—

—layers—²

—lodgepole pine.³

Loops—

—and laughter—

—lake—⁴

—legume;

lupine—

—lichen—

—living room.

Letter—

—lessons—⁵

—loaf—

and light;

here’s the liminal life—

—of a loony—

—Luddite.⁶

1. In my quest to use only (or mostly), materials I have at hand, I decided to finally use these precious worn out linen sheets for this unplanned thing I just started to weave. Long time Gusset readers might recognize the yellow strips as the same fabric I used for the gauzy shift I made a couple of years ago and talked about in THIS Post. This week’s experiment uses scraps left over from that.

2. It’s a continuous warp that circles around the pipe loom: the layer on the left is the one I’m weaving, the one on the right is the (as yet) unwoven warp.

3. Actually mostly Ponderosa Pine, Douglas Fir and a smattering of cedar, but the search for a suitable rhyme has led me to lie…

4. The view was pretty great even part way up the trail

5. These are draft pages of my very slowly evolving letter guide—the kind of thing you are told never ever to show in public (much less share on the internet)—but which today demanded to be seen. So enjoy!

6. I can hardly claim the title of Luddite when I’m using a twenty-first century computer attached by invisible magic threads to the internet, and I’m definitely neither a textile scholar nor an historian— but as a person who has devoted decades to the making of the slowest of textiles by hand, and who ever leans toward the most elemental way of doing just about everything, I have long felt connected to those highly skilled weavers who believed in their right to a living wage for their time and for the good cloth they produced