Statement

I weave dreams, memories and personal mythologies, layering thought, meaning, imagery, symbols, narratives, materials, dyes, patterns and techniques. When I know exactly what I want to weave, I find ways to weave just that. 

I choose unique, unrepeatable combinations of yarns, most often different types of silks and bast fibers. I dye them by hand with natural or conventional dyes. Touching the threads one by one, over and over, ties me to both their material reality and to the present moment. 

On a shaft loom, only threading is static - everything else can be modified. I draft many versions of a pattern, then string and recombine them into a single, long draft that morphs and evolves over the length of the piece. 

Weaving on my 8-shaft floor loom is very physical, turning the draft into an intricate series of dance steps. Its strength is a capacity for improvisation, for immediate change decided upon in the moment before passing the shuttle. 

My 16-shaft electronic dobby loom needs to be communicated with through a computer. Its reward is an increased ability to accommodate very complex drafts and increased ability to switch between structures.

My woven imagery emerges through complex, weaver-controlled techniques such as clasped weft with pattern change, mid-pick pattern change, brocaded inlay, modified Moorman inlay or tapestry-like colour blending. I play with supplementary structures, variations on the main pattern, right side and wrong side of the textile. 

The act of weaving happens in a conversation between the loom and myself, in a symbiosis of human and machine.

Most of my weavings are babywraps - long, narrow pieces of fabric intended for a mother and child to be wrapped in. I see babywrapping as a radical expression of care. My process, which started with the wish to weave babywraps, mirrors that gesture of care and the choices of gentle parenting, deliberately slowing down and paying attention to every step.