spinning

This is How We Make the Yarn.

| Betsy

Since textiles have been around forever, there are a heck of a lot of ways to produce yarn. And after being lucky enough to have seen wool processed with machines pre-WWII a few years ago, I’ve been fascinated with the different modes of production.

Here are some of the more interesting videos I’ve come across…It’s amazing to me how alien and foreign the big factories are and how unlike craft as I know it to be. With all the tactile, love and creativity that I’ve seen modern day spinners use, it’s almost like watching something from another planet as it churns out skeins in rooms devoid of people.

1. modern day mill, Germany (complete with David Hasselhoff-esque soundtrack!)
2. traditional mode of wool processing in Serbia
3. totally wierd promotional video for silk wool production company in India
4. wool production as was done in early 1900s in Germany
5. making “fancy yarn” with big scary machines

Spinning?

| Betsy

Last week I took a spinning class. Excitedly, I told a few people about it, most of whom thought I was going to go ride bicycles in a little room with a screamy instructor. I paused for a moment when someone asked, ‘do you mean like telling stories?’

Because in a way, learning to spin fiber is a story. It’s a story that extends way beyond us, into our genes, tapping a part of us that may very well have been dormant beforehand.

In telling a story, we ‘spin’ tales with our mouths (or hands in the case of deafness), casting them as loud as our voice will carry. Making sure the plot weaves in and out, with various twists and turns in character development. Sometimes we don’t always know where a story that we are telling us is taken, we just run with it. Then the story takes on a life of its own, allowing the listeners to create a whole new world, eager to hear what’s going to happen and (if you’re good) not just waiting for the end.

The same thing happens when we spin yarn. Currently I’ve changed from a bottom-whirl spindle to a top-whirl spindle and have been reminded how mesmerizing it is to watch a bit of fluff turn into yarn. The joy in the knowledge that this yarn you are creating can be as long as you desire, in the colours and textures you choose. It can be whatever you want it to be.

And I can’t help but get a little giddy in this creation of something new and alive, whether it’s yarn to work with or a story to mull over. They each speak of new possibilities, directions and concepts, which may weave together over time or simply just float by.

Each time I work with fibre or tell tales, I wholeheartedly enjoy the way that something deep in my genetic makeup sparks. It’s a feeling of familiarity, of welcome, and of a happy reunion.