I'm currently working on a piece that is all handspun wool, and relatively large for a backstrap weaving.
It's traveled around with me, and I've given demonstrations to weavers, friends and students in Seattle and Kansas City. I don't have many good photos of it, but I'm honored to say that Laverne posted some here.
As I've been working on it, this weaving has become a kind of home base for me - an experience I haven't had before with weaving.
At home, I check in with it almost daily, putting in a few rows in the early morning. Already, before taking it elsewhere, the weaving felt like a space, a separate place to go for a while. When I'm there, I'm in the weaving, in the world of it, which has certain rules that I needed to learn when I began. How to manipulate these yarns, and open these sheds, slightly different from any other project I've done. The pickup is a different set of patterns - so although the technical process of pickup is familiar, I had to learn to read them.
The first time I demonstrated, I remained silent, and was able to weave along, without mistakes, for several picks. The second time, I was trying to explain the process to students, and I couldn't fathom my pickup, then forgot to pass the weft (which, by the way, is a good way out if you have made pattern mistakes during a demo - just don't pass the weft!) I learned that people just want to see you change sheds a few times, so "pretend weaving" is good enough for a warm-up. After a few minutes, I got to the point where I could weave for real and answer questions.
These experiences made me bond more with the weaving, in a way. I had to master its language enough to do it while semi-distracted. Not arguing for multi-tasking, but it's interesting how the distraction made me focus more, and go a bit deeper into my relationship with my weaving. Which is what I'm trying to talk about. There's a relationship with this weaving, as a process and as a piece. My time with it is valuable, and necessary. Like feeding a friendship, the time weaving solidifies something good in my mind, something deep and true.
So when people ask what I'm planning to do with it, I have no reply because I'm not thinking of it that way. Not trying to get something done, but just doing. Something important.