I think it was around fifteen years ago now that I re-found my love of making things. That energy had been in some kind of limbo state, emerging at times through writing, experiments, and gardening. For these last fifteen years, though, I’ve been in a steady state of learning about all sorts of fiber craft and art. A main passion has emerged, and that has to do with weaving.

The interlacement of all things is an idea, or a reality, that just grabs me. It’s simple and obvious. But it’s also profound and true. I recently wrote this in an instagram post:

One of the things I love about weaving is that is invites our minds to work with our bodies. We can be
with humble tools and materials and through the simple act of interlacements, something beautiful can emerge.

To interlace materials is to simply join them in an over and under rhythm. Suddenly, elements are joined when they were otherwise separate. Weaving for me has been a way to be with myself and my thoughts. I follow the directions of the materials and let myself flow with the process, rather than try to control the process from start to finish.

This has been true of my experiences with grief. The more I tried to control grief, the more I suffered. As I have learned to move with grief and let the waves of it interlace with all of the other truths about me and my life, the more I’ve been able to grow with it.

If you told me fifteen years ago that I’d be invited to lead a weaving workshop at such a wonderful place as Mercy Ecospirituality Center, I’d have looked behind me, assuming you were talking to someone else. If you are within a reasonable drive to Benson, VT, and feel like spending a day playing with interlacements, please come! I promise, you will end up with something that you didn’t expect, and that it will mean something to you.