The phoenix scarf is off the loom!

I finished weaving the phoenix scarf, and wet-finished it yesterday. It is gorgeous.

It’s nothing like my usual work. Most of my projects take months, and are planned with precision, developed using a systematic series of samples, and technically near-perfect. This scarf is much more about process than product – rather than being a show piece, it was an opportunity to integrate craft into an expression of rebirth and a celebration of major life changes.

My usual process would involve spinning samples of yarn and weaving sample swatches, then experimenting with sett, structure, and other weaving parameters until I was happy with the cloth. 

Then, based on all these samples, I would finalize the design of the project and calculate exactly how much yarn I’d need. From there, I would calculate how much fiber to dye. I’d hand dye the silk roving, using a ruler to measure the length of each color as I painted the dye onto the silk, so the gradients matched precisely on each side of the scarf.

Then I’d spin the yarn, checking it against a reference sample periodically for consistency, so I wound up with the precisely correct amount of uniformly spun yarn.

And then I’d be ready to weave.

There’s nothing wrong with this approach – it’s garnered me many prizes at shows, and led to my work being featured in magazines, collected by museums, etc. I’m happy with the results it produces.

But this scarf was different. I elected to make it more about process, and internal meaning, rather than focusing on external perfection. It was an opportunity to create something that mattered first and foremost to me – not composed for anyone else, but a symbol of my metamorphosis and life changes.

So I jettisoned tight control over materials and methods. Instead of spinning the yarn to precise standards, I simply spun whatever felt right as I did my daily walking contemplation. Instead of weaving a bazillion samples, I wove just enough to get some idea where I was going. I leaned into uncertainty, trusting my ability to redesign on the fly if necessary.

Of course I ran into problems. But I simply improvised solutions and kept going.

The resulting project feels rawer and has some significant technical flaws. But I love the flaws! They make the piece much more interesting. The handspun yarn isn’t the smooth, uniform color gradient I was envisioning. Instead, it has lots of minor variations in color and size. That creates striations that are far more visually compelling than a smooth gradient would have been. Instead of glassy perfection, I got rough, striated sandstone – and I love it!

Here’s the reverse side of the scarf, which shows the color variations better:

More importantly, this approach produced a work that was helpful for me personally, and more meaningful to me than my usual project. I spun the yarn on long, introspective walks. The spinning helped me relax and let subconscious ideas surface – a form of walking meditation. This helped me work through my feelings about change, and process the day’s results. And the resulting piece brings back fond memories. Unlike many of my other projects, this scarf feels anchored in time and place.

I’ve decided that this slow, process-first way of working is something I want to explore further, even though it’s extremely uncomfortable for my technically precise mind. I don’t expect to do all my work this way, but I do want to explore it further, especially in this time of major life changes. 

Craft has always been a major part of my life. Normally I shape my craft. This time, it’s a chance for craft to shape me.

I’m now headed off to San Miguel de Allende, Mexico to explore whether living there will be part of my future transformation. I’m bringing the scarf with me, and will finish it on the trip with a beaded fringe. I’ve been auditioning different possibilities, which you can see below. Left to right, they are: specks of fire, pure night, and tongues of fire.

Needless to say, the moment I finished arranging the scarf and pulled out the camera, a cat appeared to help. Here’s Fritz, peacefully keeping me company.

I’ve chosen the “fiery trails” sample on the right for the fringe, and hope to finish the fringe while I’m on the trip. More pictures once I’m done!

(Ironically, while this project was specifically intended not to be a show piece, I’ve had a few conversations, and it seems likely to be both published and exhibited. Stay tuned…)