want to try something whacky?

Whacky fun, I mean. Not whacky dangerous.

Or, maybe it is dangerous. I don’t know.

It’s certainly not familiar.

Still, I’m going to go for it.

Go for what, you might ask—spinning a bit of wool prepared by someone else?

Big whooppee.

Actually that would be a big whoopee because I am generally happiest when I begin with raw wool rather than prepared fiber.

But the fleece I’ve been working with for a while is completely gone, I have not found the next one—

—and my friend Shelley at The Yarn Underground (a few blocks from home), just received the shipment of custom yarn and fiber she’s been waiting for— all from sheep whose fleeces I’ve been using and loving and spinning and wearing for years.

So I couldn’t resist giving this mill-prepared version a try.

It is quite different from my preparations. And also really really nice. ¹

So nice that I was going to devote this entire post to it (you know, random spindle tricks, thoughts on the effect of fiber preparation, sheep breed and spindle weight on grist—that sort of thing).

Except now I’m not.

Nope. Now, I’m going to try something I have never done before, something that fills me with glee and trepidation at the same time.

And I can only do it with your help.

So—do you wanna get together to figure out what I’m going to make, draw and write about this summer? Try a little collective design?

I’ve been going in studio spirals since returning from my trip, messing about with a bit of everything and loving each technique and material so much that I can’t settle on just one—or even two.

And while creative circles can be a delight, I’m in the mood to sink my teeth into one thing, ideally something half familiar and half unexpectedly new, and one way to dive right into the new portion of the show is to share the shape of this succulent summer surprise with you.

I’ll do my best² to devote myself to whatever we come up with.

To get us started I’ve set up three polls.³ You can choose one thing in each poll, and though I’ll be guided by the poll results, any thoughts in the comments section will be appreciated.

So…..

note: poll votes⁴ are limited to paid subscribers,⁵ but if you want to upgrade for one month then return to the free option that’s perfectly okay by me. And everyone will be able to see the results of the polls on my Substack home page. (You can get to it by clicking on the post title).

That should be enough to get us started, or at least enough to figure out what questions to ask next. I’ve never done this before—conducted a poll or participated in collective design—so have no idea how it will unfold. I assume we’ll need more polls to refine things, but how many? How much wiggle room will I leave myself? How long will it all take? How weird can it get? Will any of us even be interested in what comes out of it?

Who knows?

And isn’t that’s part of the point—the not knowing, I mean? And a person (and certainly hundreds of people working together), have to start somewhere.

So are you in?

I’m awash in anticipatory delight.

Further thoughts? Put them in the comments. Please use the button rather than by hitting reply though, for if you choose the latter I won’t see your lovely words.

And if you know anyone who might want to meander around designing things with us, click the button below and send it to them!

1. It’s two-ranch Montana blend of white Targhee and grey Cormo . The link takes you to The Yarn Underground website where you can order yarn. If you’re interested in combed fiber you may have to contact them directly.

2. My muses are an opinionated lot who do not (historically) take kindly to direction, expectation or assumption—so I was rather surprised when they suggested this notion of collective design. But here we are, and I trust them, so who am I to say no?

3. This makes me think of Rebecca Mezoff’s Summer of Tapestry —a hands on summer weaving experience that’ll keep you weaving tapestry no matter where you go or what you do. This is her third year of doing it (I think), and it sounds like a blast. I think they begin this week, so check it out.

4. I blame this idea on my father. Or more truthfully, I give him the credit for a brilliant and terrifying and apparently irresistible idea. And really, what dad doesn’t want his daughter to head out onto a tightrope she’s building as she goes? Thanks Daddy.

5. Paid Subscribers: you glorious, kind and never-to-be-praised-enough folks have committed to this one woman show called The Gusset (a thing I started on a bit of a whim by heading on a limb even shakier as the one I’m sitting on right now), and your belief in this enterprise has allowed it (and the work it generates) to become my full time gig. I cannot thank you enough.