May 6, 2008
In the plant room off of the living room of the house I grew up in, there was a stand-up loom. I used to play with it as a kid. I never wove anything on it, but I loved this machine so much. It now resides in my parents’ basement, and I begged my parents not to get rid of it even though I doubt my mom could really part with it either. I think part of me hopes that one day in the distant future I will have a space for it to be used frequently.
So weaving. It’s always been around, in some form, in my life. What does that mean for me now? I’ve decided to make my own DIY simple loom to weave rag rugs out of old clothes. Since I don’t know where in Philadelphia to buy weaving supplies (anyone? anyone?), I turned to WEBS to get cotton warp for my recycled rag rugs. That was a mistake. In a week, I will be receiving 5 cones of cotton and 6 hanks of slubby cotton mill ends (in pink and orange. oh man!). Like I really need another craft to do…