random is as random does

Well, it’s definitely tapestry.¹

It might even (eventually) be functional.²

At least I hope it will. The plan is that this 12-selvedge, slit-ridden object-in-progress will fold up into a box a bit like the one I made six years ago—³

tapestry box; hand woven tapestry; hand spun linen, paper, used ziplock bag; 2.5” x 2.5” x 2.5”

—though through to tell it is already functioning beautifully as an object of engagement.

I mean, I can’t stop thinking about it.⁴

This is an excellent thing since (so far), the path of creation has been a bit craggy.

To begin with I found I needed parts (1” galvanized pipe for loom legs and a couple of dowels for the four selvedge jig).⁵ Then I ran out of fly line backing mid warp and had to go to a different hardware⁶ store where I learned that they no longer carried the stuff I’d been using for years. ⁷

Then after a day or two of trying out compelling materials that perfectly fit the random things I find requirement (and pleased my younger selves in different but equally annoying ways)—

birch bark from the Vermont woods, jute twine from the hardware store, and corn husks from last summer's sweet corn

—I realized that it wasn’t much fun to work with any of them (materials or younger opinionated selves).

And while meeting the poll criteria is definitely part of the point of this project—

—haptic, visual and conceptual pleasure are essential else why do it at all? So out they all came.

Rather than laboriously unweave, I went for the cutting and flicking method of weft removal. It’s effective, fast, and—as long as a gal is super focused and cuts between the warp yarns with sharp scissors—perfectly safe.⁸

It’s also extraordinarily satisfying.

Of course once the warp was deliciously empty once again—

—I had to figure out what I actually did want to work with.

That meant more experiments (always interesting), though this time I got there sooner.

indigo/cochineal dyed paper (not what I wanted), and mill spun cotton I found near the brown cotton I worked with last week.

At least I got there once I realized:

1. that coffee filter yarn might have just the right structural integrity to hold the shape of this deliberately airy experimental box form.

2. that I still feel a wee delicious frisson of delight every morning when I rinse out my daily filter⁹

   

3. that for all they may no longer be random, I love and want to work with them anyway

4. that I’d been going out of my way to avoid using them (so five years ago don’t cha know).

Well phooey to that! True randomness will just have to take a backseat for now as I’m now well on my way and can hardly tear myself from the loom. After all, this entire enterprise was designed to delight and in that has already proven hugely successful—

—so I’ll just assume that my lucky wee nettle-pointer and I are on the right path, and that prickly though it occasionally is—¹⁰

—every random query is part of this quest to gather and relish whatever stray treats the summer might have in store.¹¹ So on we go.

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1. At least it is a weft faced plain weave where the wefts are discontinuous across the shed. A few warp-revealing holes don’t take away from that.

2. That the tapestry be functional was one of the the project criteria defined by the votes in the “vague direction” poll two weeks ago. One can only hope that the slits I’ve carefully built into all four facets will not prevent the sides of the ultimate box-shaped object from standing up on their own.

3. For more photos and some process pics of the original box, check out the blog post I wrote at the time: Tapestry Box- Proof of Concept.

4. So engrossed, indeed, that this I haven’t had a chance to explore the conceptual side of things —like the meaning of the words functional, thing, or material. But they’ll keep. And anyway, I’m always better at finding things out through experience.

5. For more about the use of jigs, check out this long ago blog post: Four Selvedge Warping Instructions , this fantastic class I teach with Rebecca Mezoff: FRINGELESS, and/or THIS post on making a custom jig.

6. I’m so lucky to have two hardware stores within walking distance—at least assuming Beryl is up for a three mile afternoon walk on a warmish day. She’s not a fan of walking in the hot sun. Maybe she needs a hat?

7. Apparently this new braided structure is better for fly fishing. Whether or not it is suitable for four selvedge warping remains to be seen, though so far so good. I’ve had no tension conflicts anyway. The proof will be in how easily it slides out when I release the tapestry.

8. At least in my experience it’s safe. Also scary, fraught, massively liberating, wasteful (imagine four square feet of hand-spun indigo-dyed tapestry sky in a pile of wooly fragments on the floor), and always totally worth it.

9. None of my three dictionaries seem to agree on an exact definition, but etymonline says: random (adj.). 1650s, "having no definite aim or purpose, haphazard, not sent in a special direction," from phrase at random (1560s), "at great speed" (thus, "carelessly, haphazardly"), from an alteration of the Middle English noun randon, randoun "impetuosity; speed" (c. 1300). This is from Old French randon "rush, disorder, force, impetuosity," from randir "to run fast," from Frankish *rant "a running" or some other Germanic source, from Proto-Germanic *randa (source also of Old High German rennen "to run," Old English rinnan "to flow, to run;" see run (v.)). For spelling shift of -n to -m, compare seldom, ransom.

In 1980s U.S. college student slang it began to acquire a sense of "inferior, undesirable." (A 1980 William Safire column describes it as a college slang noun meaning "person who does not belong on our dormitory floor.")

Though not a tapestry, this Gusset post is composed of random material I’ve found this week—not carelessly or haphazardly, or at great speed, but certainly (at least when I began writing), not sent in a special direction.

And though coffee filter yarn is now perfectly normal (at least for me), once upon a time it was a super random (inferior, undesirable…does not belong in a tapestry), material. Neither paper nor ideas were what I had in mind when I came up with the materials category for the poll (a last minute addition if you can believe it—almost a write-in candidate), but somehow they both work right now, especially if I shift the word random to some of its synonyms: fluky, fortuitous, odd, lucky…

10. I wore gloves out in the woods (up high amongst the cedars in search of young and tender tips for tea), but later when I was sorting the leaves my fingertips got a good nettle-buzz. It’s a feeling I almost/kinda/do like but which was also decidedly strange when playing tunes with friends later in the evening: accurate and fast concertina button pushing relies hugely on the feelings in your fingertips.

11. My other thought for this mythical box was to weave it on my favorite super-portable summertime tapestry loom—a cardboard box— and I may yet do that because it is a blast. Here, in case you’ve never seen it, is The Guide. The original bag I made was my very first “functional”—or at least truly portable—tapestry, and it has proved its mettle in beauty, pleasure and general usefulness into its third decade of existence.