Weaving wound its way into the heart of my life quickly and succinctly. It began with the textiles of India. At first I bought a hand crank sewing machine and would go weekly to the local Khadi shop to purchase handwoven fabric from which to sew our clothes, and practice by sewing clothes for others. As soon as I saw looms at work, its seemingly infinite number of threads and wooden pieces running in every direction, I knew that was the thing I needed. I needed to weave.
Upon returning to the Rocky Mountians from India I found a loom on craigslist, and that was it. The loom belonged to an elderly man who had passed, his son was selling his loom along with a lifetimes worth of weaving tools, books and materials. In one fell swoop everything that I needed to begin my journey landed into my lap. Kyle and I packed up our homeade wooden teardrop camper and headed for the Sonoran Desert to spend a winter in the mountains making art and exploring this new life back in America.
This was the first large piece I ever wove. It was a turning point of feeling what was possible.