once they were trees

coffee filters: used, rinsed, dried, boiled, drying again; paper shirt: used coffee filters, milkweed, flax, indigo, weld

They’re a bossy trio, these materials of mine:

wool, paper, milkweed.

Ahem. Excuse me:

Wool. Paper. Milkweed.

Quite the triumvirate.

Indeed I wrote “of mine” as though I have a say. But as you’ve seen, any one (or all three together), could commandeer a day, a month, a year or a decade regardless what plans I might have thought I had.

“Why yes Sarah, we know you thought you were going to go this way…

—but in point of fact, that’s not the direction of choice.”¹

I don't know why I’m continually surprised by this, but there it is.² Last week milkweed took center stage; this week it is coffee filters. And wool—well my spindle is almost always at hand, just cuz.

Luckily they play pretty well together—politely (mostly) taking turns, and sometimes even sharing the same project.

coffee filter paper, wool, indigo

This level of cooperation is a thing I’d never have believed possible had you asked me a few years ago. Yet here they are: protein and cellulose, stretchy and inelastic, archival and probably not so much—with entirely different histories and pH needs for heaven’s sakes—seemingly incompatible yet nevertheless able to slip so confidently into place on my warp that I cannot but relish both their poised presence and the creative delight they evoke every time I catch a glimpse.

D’you think it could be because they once were parts of plants, trees and animals?

Might mycorrhizal networks and flocking instincts somehow persist despite all that these fibers have gone through?

It’s a fanciful thought to be sure, but considering how little we know, understand, or even believe about the connections between beings beyond ourselves, it somehow delights me to contemplate the possibilities.

Not that I need extra reasons to treat these materials with tenderness and delight (even as they boss me around), for I love them beyond reason.

As with Beryl, the influence of whose past on our current connection I know so little about—

—I’ve found it behooves me to relax my attempts at control (other than to remind Miss B to come or heel when necessary), and learn to enjoy the way they hold sway over the tides of my life.

Indeed at the moment (when not diverted by milkweed or american Thanksgiving, or my grandbaby or the odd moose)—

—I’m being tugged about by all of them.

But hasn’t it always been so?

As I’ve said before, I never intended to weave tapestry all those years ago,³ yet off I went anyway, pulled into the unknown by stories and materials and knitting patterns and random scraps of paper that turned into tapestries and books and classes and more ideas— and even magazine articles I can’t read but which nonetheless fill me with glee—⁴

—all of which in turn generate these run-on sentence fragments that build into blatherings⁵ that connect me to you who I’ve never met in person yet now count as a comrade.

And how terrific is that?

Remember to comment with the button above rather than by hitting reply, for if you choose the latter I won’t see your lovely words.

And if you know anyone who might enjoy these meanderings, please do click the button below and see what they think!

1. This moose, like many that meander into town in the winter, was not in the least interested in me or the dogs as far as I could tell—but nonetheless, I made an abrupt about face (after taking a photo just to show you), and chose a different route back to my son’s house.

2. Truth to tell I’m not a particularly spontaneous person even as am remarkably susceptible to suggestion. To that end (and because humans are louder and can be almost as persistent as fibers), I try to limit my interactions with the former lest the latter get squashed—or both become overwhelming.

3. A brief tapestry footnote for those who might be interested in learning more about it. Rebecca Mezoff is having her once a year sale (she calls it Fyber Monday though it actually extends a couple more day just in case). Find the course descriptions and a link to register on her website. And isn’t that a great discount code for our Fringeless Class? Here is the info from Rebecca:

15% off all courses* with code WeftFaced23

• 25% off Fringeless with code BerylWeaves

• 15% off signed copies of Untangled and/or The Art of Tapestry Weaving

• 25% off a bundle of both my books with the Introduction to Tapestry Weaving course

• 15% off gift certificates for all classes

• Buy one, get one free deal on my first book, Untangled: A Crafty Sheep's Guide to Tapestry Weaving

4. I had a fabulous time chatting with Uta Lenk for this article. The magazine is beautiful and the images enticing (even though I can’t read the in-depth looking articles). But if you read German and/or are a textile/patchwork person you might want to check out the Patchwork Guild of Germany.

5. I love the word blathering. Though when I’m feeling serious or pretentious I sometimes call these Gusset Posts illustrated essays, I think blathering is more to the point. Unless you can think of a better word? Missive? I think I’ve asked this question before but you know — words are just so fun. And is it blither, blether or blather anyway?