Yesterday was the third week of my spinning class at Birkeland. Six new spinners ready to unleash themselves on the world. Or not.
Spinning is not easy. It is not for everyone. It can reduce a perfectly coordinated and gifted person to tears when “they don’t get it”. There is shock at how your hands and feet can betray you and how your mind alone cannot make the wool.
Initially it is less about technique and more about filling a bobbin. But what do you do when what is on your bobbin looks like baby barf? If you love the fibre —you carry on. If you are stubborn—–you carry on. If you can put your ego to the side —-you carry on. Or sometimes you realize that it’s just not for you.
I am happy to say that the entire group will carry on.
In order to prep for class last night, I went back to the beginning. I took a roving, tore it into equal strips and then just shoved it on to the wheel. It felt fantastic. First 110g of perindale were exhausted on to the wheel and then 200g of BFL.
This was the satisfaction of just letting raw fibre become wool. Sweet. It’s been a while since I’ve let myself spin a single skein without trying to put lipstick on the pig, no art yarn, no balanced and plied yarn, just the basics…
Just before heading off to class I did manage to bump into a crazy batt that I carded and had to spin it. It’s primarily dyed mohair locks and very kitchen sink. The exact opposite of the yarns I had just spun, and yet somehow the same.
On a completely different note, the “poncho/capelet” is done. Just some loose ends to weave in and blocking. There were some modifications. I like them, but I’ll let you decide when I post the completed photos. I think there’s a matching hat in me today before heading down to the studio.