Today I learned to weave on a peg loom, in a workshop with fellow craftspeople.

One of the most beautiful moments of the day was when one woman caught onto how the loom worked and kept coming up with one idea after another in rapid fire procession. There are few things more gorgeous than watching the face of someone become inspired- I adore the way that people’s faces light up and their voices crack and squeak and how they tend to say things like, “ooh…oohh…but what about this….” and then ramble down another tangent.

I played with color, and specifically, the colors of spring. I sat down at the table for a minute rearranging the colors in different orders trying to get the right ones to play off each other. I ended up with a small mat with varying stripes, layered in such a way as to represent things like the sky and the sun and the flowers and the grass that we tend to miss so much during cold dark winters. The pink yarn was so bright that it hurt my eyes to look at the skein, so I added a small bit- a bit to smile at when it’s snowing out and the ground is blanketed in white.

Who knows if it will work, but today in the studio, my eyes were thinking of vernal things. Amazingly, it’s still quite green here in England, although the leaves are starting to slowly change. Last night I took the dog for a walk through the fields and we bounded over great heaps of green grass that the sheep will hopefully get to eat soon as they move along through the farm. Today I had a glimpse of what autumn will look like soon, as I visited the little lambs who had errantly locked themselves in their shelter and used their boundless energy to get covered in hay.

So as the leaves begin to turn and jackets and scarves make their way out of the wardrobe, I made a tiny simulacra of spring in textiles using an ancient method of weaving to remind me in the coming weeks that spring, like hope, springs eternal.