My weaving brain is re-engaged! After writing and publishing Gathering Threads I am back weaving again. Fresh studio, beautiful repainted pebble grey walls, new carpet and new table loom. An Ashford 16 shaft. Smaller. Complicated. Fantastic. Creative energy for the complex puzzle that is weaving.
I often start with a walk on the downs to find inspiration….
Sue Orton
I was asked if I took commissions and I was unsure so. Here is my response…
A commission …… the process of weaving for me, is to walk, to be outside, to find some inspiration photographs, pictures, writing or some thing that intrigues me, moves me, to ponder and to wonder….… then to sketch, to explore shapes and ideas without knowing the form, colour or structure of a piece, until it ‘emerges’ out of my sketch books over time. Once I settle on the feel of a piece, I play with colour, with yarn and with weave structure, make a short warp and sample some ideas on my small loom to see if it works.
Then, when I’m happy I design a warp, wind it and then put it onto my loom before weaving and then finishing it. Sounds simple but it’s a bit more complex than that. The stages I go through are: sketching and designing; developing a colour pallet; selecting yarn; exploring and finalising a weave structure; winding a warp of 500-600 threads, dressing the loom – taking the warp from the carousel to the back beam; threading and treadle setting; weaving, washing and finishing a test section usually 20 cm; adjusting the set as needed or not: weaving full length of about 2 m, and then finishing. This usually takes me a couple of months. Six months from idea to completion, maybe.
The summer is not good weaving time; outside play time is. As autumn and winter darken the studio lights glow with possibilities.
© sue orton
Separation, preparation, packing.
Tremors, trunks, deep rumblings.
That which I will need and forget,
lie down in it, pause, look up.
“I don’t know about the next bit.”
“I love you, I love you too.”
© Sue Orton
I have been working on a commission inspired by the sea. I was asked to make a very personal scarf for a sea swimmer. Soft, not itchy but light and warm. Love of the sea, colours and texture, moods and movement, the sense of wonder and renewal from swimming, all informed our conversations. We shared a desire to get in the sea for the joy and calmness it can bring especially in cold water. Pictures were exchanged and colour experiments began in early December.
A joy to create and well received.
Today back at my desk. With a hot water bottle at my back, wool hat and layers; I’m warm. Unlike so many. My resolution is to hold onto hope and to be kind. …to give time, empathy and support and to find ways of helping the people around me. Like buying the Big Issue and talking to the sellers. I will try to remember to give to food banks at supermarkets. I give blood so I’ll book a donation soon. I’ll try to remember to give compliments; buy an extra coffee to ‘pay it forward’ to a stranger. I am holding onto hope and optimism this year and invite you to do the same.
Yesterday I received note of the publication of a story hope. It is the story of a refugee, Kabir. Ghost written by a dear friend and ally of Kabir. Kabir left Afghanistan in 2018, as an unaccompanied minor, to seek a safe life in a safe country, carrying the blessings and prayers of his family. His journey was often perilous, across land, sometimes in a vehicle, many times on foot and also in a dangerously small boat on a rough sea. He was often scared but always determined. He learned about the cruelty that exists in some people and the kindness that exists in others and he found the better person inside himself. His strength and courage and faith carried him, although he hit some very low times along the way. It is his story: Pain is Real but so is Hope. You can buy it on Amazon as a Kindle Book for £3.99
© Sue Orton
Autumn. A month for scuffing leaves, apples and plums in profusion, clearing the veg patch of old woody tangled runner beans. Those last few large ones are only fit for the compost however hard I try to cut and slice them. Autumn. Britain steps out of summer time and the evenings draw in. First at 4.oopm then at 3.30pm. It’s hardly worth drawing the blinds, except the winter sun low and bright can lift my spirits in the morning. And there is my dilemma. Joyfully inviting the winter or falling into patches of personal darkness. This is when I reach for and re-read Gwyneth Lewis’s cheerful book about depression. Sunbathing in the Rain. If you live with depression or you live with someone who lives with depression it might just lift your spirits and illuminate things.
‘Depression is internal snow. Black snow. The flakes whirl around like motes in the water around your personal shipwreck. The quicker you dive down to see your sorry state, the better for you in life. For above you, if only you can reach it without getting the bends, are sunshine, laughter on a yacht, the clink of plates as a lunch of steaming fish is handed round.’
© sue orton 2021
sue orton | gathering threads 