While unique is something that I strive for in my work it isn’t so in my surroundings, at least not completely. Moving that creative energy into one’s surrounding seems like a given but never seemed that important to me. But I have changed. It didn’t come all at once but slowly. One of the final straws was my latest sale for a friend who hated parting with a loom. Her studio was always different from mine. Mine is a working down to brass tacks kind of studio, hers, well…. it was one of those places you love to wander into and stay. She had a small place with books and a small table one could sit and have coffee or a meal. A real place to live and work. So when she decided to remove one of the beautiful pieces I understood her loss.
The loom was a find at the very beginning. An original Walker Manufacturing Company loom that had been restored and perfectly refinished and being a counterbalance with large sheds made it her go to loom when fate started stealing her sight. But with the progression of the inevitable it no longer made sense to keep this gem of a loom. So I carefully disassembled it while hearing about stories of what she had woven on it so long ago. I transported it to my studio to check it over and reassemble it. Only then did I realize what was wrong with my studio. I didn’t have any equipment with heart. Just tools. I will be the first to say that I am hard on my equipment and fiercely maintain it for that reason but to not have a piece that you love to see every day is different. I currently have the loom set up in my oh-so small living room and will miss it when it winds its way to its new home. But for now I will enjoy her company and imagine what it would be like to have her in the shop. Continually have a new item warped on her strong limbs and the sense that I am creating heritage pieces with her guiding the way.