Well, well, well… looky here. If it isn't WEAVING NUMBER THREE.
Isn't she precious? I feel like I hit some major milestones with this one, both technically and personally. Technically: I achieved major poufage, something I knew I wanted to try. I was pretty sure I knew what knots to use, but I had doubts that it would turn out like I was imagining. Guess what? It turned out exactly like I imagined, if not better. Silly doubter, I am. Second technically: I managed to keep the sides fairly straight. Zig-zagging sides is a sure sign of a weaving novice, and although I may be one of those, I don't want everyone to know it (except for you guys. But we're friends, so I don't mind telling you the truth.).
Personally: approximately 90% of the time I was weaving this, I was pretty sure I hated it. I was so mean to myself. Uffffff, it's so boring. Bleah, that's not proportional. Why did I make that fringe so tiny? What a waste. Etc. etc. It's no wonder it took me a month to finish this little tiny guy. But I saw it through to the end, and when it was finished, I realized something: those endless rows of plain weaving (over, under, over, under… to infinity) helped make me a better weaver. Instead of concentrating on what TOTALLY SWEET DESIGN MOVE i was going to make next, I focused on my tension and technique, and that's why my edges were straight. Gold star, me (in retrospect). In the end, though, I realized that there really was an aspect that I really wasn't crazy about-- the tiny fringe at the bottom (seriously, what was I thinking? Small fringe? Am I small fringe kind of person?? No, of course not!). Rather than leave it and have the final product be something that made me cringe every time I saw it, I took the time to redo that portion. I deconstructed the bottom rows, wove them upside down, then turned everything right side up again. Voila. Extra fringe; and if I hadn't just spent a paragraph explaining that it had been a mistake, you never would have known.
I have a tendency to be impatient. I love making things, but sometimes there's a point where I just want it be DONE so I can have the sense of accomplishment from finishing. Often, however, because I've rushed through the process to get to that point, the final product is not something I'm proud of. This isn't one of my favorite qualities about myself, so I'm congratulating myself for doing it differently this time.
Can we talk about something I really love about this weaving? I'm quite enamored of the pouf. It's made from torn strips of hand-dyed fabric that (SURPRISE) didn't turn out like I had planned. Chandler had been using a piece of that fabric as a personal cat-sized blankie when it occurred to me that it could be incorporated into the weaving. Actually, weaving scraps of fabric into tapestries or blankets has a long history in the South Carolina Lowcountry, where I'm from. On the islands around Charleston, Gullah ladies would weave scraps of old shirts through the holes in burlap using a nail, creating a colorful tapestry known as a Gullah rag quilt. This little pouf is my small homage to that tradition.