Welcome to Musings - The Loom Room Blog

One of my birthday presents this year was a dictaphone that I can put on a cord round my neck and take with me everywhere I go.  What a brilliant present!! Thanks, Chris!  I now have a way to save my thoughts as and when I think them, especially when out walking with Charlie.  So often I have had thoughts and not had anything to write them down on and been wearing gloves and it was way too cold to take the gloves off!  Now I can capture those fleeting thoughts wherever and whenever they flit into my head, before they float right on out again!!

It’s proved invaluable over the last couple of days.  I was honoured to be asked to be the juror for Handweavers’ Guild of America’s yardage exhibition - an exhibit that is fought over, and the standard is incredibly high.  This week the sample pieces arrived, and I have spent several hours at different times studying the samples, looking through them (holding them against the light), and studying them closely under a linen tester or miniature magnifying glass.  That little dictaphone has been my constant support, there whenever I get a thought that I’d like to record so that I can give construtive critiques to each applicant and each entry.  It’s one heck of a responsiility and I want to do the best job I possibly can.  To me, whenever I enter a juried show, it’s important to know why something was accepted or rejected, so that I can take on board constructive comments and use them in the future to improve my presentation or weaving.  I hope that the recipient  will take them in the same way…. but who knows? 

Also this week, I launched my first video on YouTube!  I’m really proud of myself - the learning curve was extremely steep - but gratifyingly the video has attracted over 750 viewings in just 4 days!  In case you haven’t seen it, here’s the link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f1Zzj9ZBYmQ

I shall be doing some more but first, I’d better get my head down and get back to juding, right after I’ve analysed some Mini car interiors fabric!!

Today I gave myself a birthday treat - I went to view the Staffordshire Hoard - a treasure trove of Anglo-Saxon gold weaponry that was unearthed in a farmer’s field in Staffordshire during last summer.  It’s absolutely amazing!  The size of the hoard is the largest ever found in the UK, and the intricacy of the workmanship and the artistry on the weaponry is staggering.  I queued for 4 1/2 hours which perhaps is a little crazy, but having made the effort to go, I thought it would be daft to waste that time and just come home again, only to repeat the exercise tomorrow.  But of course I managed to attend on the same day that the majority of visitors to the exhibition also decided to attend! 

It has been incredibly popular in Stoke-on-Trent, and has been on for just 3 weeks at the Potteries Museum & Art Gallery.  It’s not the whole hoard by any means, but the pieces we saw were so inspirational.  They are small and exquisite.  No wonder the art-historians and social historians are going to have to re-define their thoughts on the Dark Ages.  The Sutton Hoo burial find from the late 1930s was a really important discovery in furthering our understanding of Anglo-Saxon times, but this one, the experts reckon, will be even more revealing.  No-one knows yet (if they ever will) why these weapons and accoutrements of war were buried in the first place, but there they are.  No feminine items have been found, so it points to a plundering of the dead after a battle.  However, time and further restoration will perhaps reveal further clues as to why this treasure lay buried unclaimed in a farmer’s field for over 1300 years!!

A glimpse into the past is obviously fascinating, as is the possibilitiy of buried treasure.  There’s something in the human psyche that loves these things, and already thousands of people have queued for hours to see these shards of embossed gold, hilt heads, helmet fragments, and war regalia from so long ago.  To touch (albeit metaphorically) the world of our ancestors is something wonderful. 

The British Museum has given its support to a consortium of Midlands Museums to keep the hoard in the Midlands.  To that end, The Art Fund is trying to raise enough money to restore, conserve and exhibit this collection in the Midlands - the area in which it was found.  Do follow the link if you would like to know more.

I know for many of us that the winter has gone on a long time.  This year’s jet stream has brought lots of snow to places that normally have very little or none of the white stuff.  However, snow is an amazing thing.  It has the power to transform what is normal and so everyday that we don’t see it or notice it until something suddenly jumps out at us and makes us marvel.  I was walking round my usual route with Charlie this morning – the same fields that I’ve walked for nigh on 18 years, and for the first time, I saw a dip in the field that I’ve never been aware of before!  OK, so that doesn’t seem like much of a revelation, but it got me thinking about the transformation possibilities of snow and then to thinking about other things that transform us or our surroundings, or how we perceive things.  A good book can do that, a song which is linked to a certain time or event in our lives.  A certain dress which is associated to a particular memory.  A chance comment that can change the pattern of our lives for ever!

That’s got me smiling because my thoughts have veered away from my original thoughts I had whilst walking.  This morning, I couldn’t help but be immersed in the wonder of a beautiful sunny morning and a Christmas card scene.  It was magical.  It was so beautiful it almost hurt to see it.  It was so soulful. I just stood there and drank it in.  Those are magical moments, moments that stay with you for the rest of your days.  That was an internal photograph moment, captured on my retina and saved into my memory banks that I can refer to time and again when my soul or my mind needs solace.  An experience that, whilst it might be fairly common place, is also extraordinary.  A moment of meditation and reverence that pervades your whole being.  I’m smiling as I’m waxing lyrical here but I think you probably know what I mean, even if you don’t share my childish love of snow.  These moments are both exciting and deeply spiritual, childish and eternal, deep in our psyche as human beings that that we cannot help but be touched by them.  And they are important to us.  I feel so privileged to be alive this morning.  To be walking through this winter landscape with my dog and able to appreciate the beauty and eternal mystery of this wonderful white stuff, of which every flake is unique and so beautiful whilst being at the same time symmetrical and predictable whilst not being predictable at all!  I love paradox and this is one of nature’s best for me.  A blanketing effect which yet transforms.  A new way of light touching familiar contours.  Highlighting contours in a way that we don’t normally see, and even better this morning, with a beautiful clear blue sky and gilded by February sunshine.  Perfect!!!  My day has been transformed into something wonderful.  Now, isn’t there a song about Something Wonderful?….

Have you read that correctly?  Did I really mean that?  Isn’t that against everything that meditation stands for???? 

On the face of it, it would appear that I’ve either gone nuts, or I don’t really understand what meditation is all about.  If you’ll bear with me, I’ll explain what it’s all about.

I received a lovely chatty email this week from a student who came on her first course with me in the autumn.  She wrote to say that she was suddenly reminded of my charater by someone else that she’d met last weekend. 

As you can imagine, I just had to read on!  We all love to know what other people think about us, even if afterwards we wish we hadn’t been so curious!!  She went on to say that what she had been reminded about was my two personas - my “meeintg like-minded people”, social persona and my “solitary, meditative” private persona. 

One morning, being an early riser, she had come into the workshop whilst I was setting the fire.  Now I have a little ritual that sets me up for the day, but which is usually conducted in private.  It was during this little ritual that she had come in and, not wishing to disturb me, she had quietly gone upstairs onto the balcony to look at some of my weaving and design books.  But she had been intrigued by my actions and quietly observed.

My ritual involves doing the yoga Salutation to the Sun several times on my yoga mat before my unlit stove.  That loosens up my muscles and warms me up in order to do the bending necessary for lighting the studio fire.  I approach lighting the fire a little bit like a Japanese tea ceremony, I guess.  I love the graceful movements, the focus and the ritual involved in such a seemingly mundane process and I apply this to the processes involved in clearing out the grate, chopping the wood, setting the fire and lighting it.

She watched quietly as I went about my ritual, totally absorbed and unaware that she was upstairs.  After this, I grab my cup of tea from the kitchen, and come back in to check that the fire has taken well, and sometimes I also light a candle, put it on a small footstool, grab some cushions and sit and look at the candle flame.  Like so many people, I love looking at flames, and I try just to focus on the flame.  This is something I do if I have a particularly knotty problem to solve and it’s pouring with rain outside! 

My favourite way of solving problems is to take Charlie the dog for a walk and just get involved with the beauty of the countryside through which I’m walking.  I think this is known as ‘walking meditation’.  Gratitude for where you are and what you are able to do goes a long way towards reducing problems to their proper proportions and re-establishing perspective, I’ve found, and I feel this most when I’m out with Charlie, observing nature at work and play. 

Do you have a particular way of meditating?  Do you call it meditating, or does that feel too pretentious to you?  Do you have little rituals that make you feel more centred?  More connected?  I’m sure most of us do have this dual aspect to our daily lives, but we may not separate the two aspects, or label them, or even be aware of them.  I feel that being aware of the amazing abilities of my mind to ease my fears and solve my problems helps me to access a state of inner calm - that even in the storm of things that affect us, I can feel secure knowing that I will come through and will have learnt from the experience. 

It’s an amazing feeling to carry with you each day.  It gives you an inner confidence that underpins whatever else you do.  It helps you to appreciate the wonderful little things that happen each day.  Which is a good way to finish.  I’m off to appreciate the wonderful, sunny albeit very cold, day today along with my great companion, Charlie! 

Enjoy your day!

I originally wrote this entry a year ago, and was thinking about this very subject this week when my son and I were having a philosophical discussion on “how do you know when you know yourself?”  In trying to put down in words what we were discussing, I got myself into knots, and deleted the whole thing, when I suddenly had the impulse to look at articles I’ve written but not yet published.  And there, right at the top, was this!  Serendipity at work!  Enjoy….

“Know Yourself”

This is a local secondary school’s motto near where I live, and it always gets me shaking my head.

I can’t say too much about this other than to say that the children really don’t get time to know themselves!  But what I wanted to think about today is how this short phrase applies to each of us individually.  Do we really know ourselves?

There are certain things I know about myself because of how I feel in certain situations.  For instance, I have an intense dislike of confrontation and will sometimes not stand up for myself or seek to turn a conversation to avoid confrontation although these days I would not go so far as to compromise myself or my principles.  But the flip side to this is that I have a very active (or overactive) sense of fair play.  If someone else is suffering an injustice, I leap in to defend them even at the risk of personal injury!  Now how does that equate??  In Homer SImpson’s immortal words – Doh!!

Why do I do that?  Is it a sensible thing to do?  No – usually not!  But somehow I can’t seem to help myself!  Choices.  No-one can say whether any choice is right or wrong.  We have laws and social codes but they are only guides, and they can change over a period of time as society itself changes.  We each live by our own personal codes, so we can only judge each other seen from our own standpoint.  Also our own perspective changes as we mature (age!) and we can choose (if we wish) how to react to any situation. When we are born we seem to be hard-wired with one disposition or another but as we get older we can sometimes develop into the opposite of that. 

So I’m back to where I started.  And how do we get to know ourselves? 

For me, it’s spending time on my own.  Lots of time.  Thinking.  Reading.  Weaving.  Thinking some more. 

Also it’s spending time with other people.  Lots of different people in different situations.  Watching. Listening.  Talking.  Listening some more. 

I’m not a social animal by nature.  However, give me a group of people with the same interests – weaving, philosophy, travel, readers, writers, music, theatre – and I’m as gregarious as anyone else.  It’s like heads and tails, chalk and cheese.  And I don’t think I’m alone in this.  I cultivate what I’d like to become – so I don’t watch violent movies.  I read to expand my mind and my soul.  I travel to learn more and experience more about the world.  I walk with my dog and examine closely the nature I see around me.  I weave because I love art, and weaving and experimenting fulfils my soul. 

I don’t know if what I do really helps me to know myself.  All I do know is that I like doing these things and I feel that I’m getting to know myself.  And perhaps that’s all any of us can aspire to. 

The words and music from The King & I, “Getting to Know You”, are running through my head now.  Perhaps it is more about getting to know others and finding through that that we get to know ourselves.  Hmmm.  I’d be interested in your thoughts…… 

I know I’ve said it before, but Sunday is a good weaving day for me.  I don’t know what it is about Sunday that makes it feel different from the other days in the week, but I often find I get into my weaving and that it flows easily on a Sunday.  Today was a good one again.  I had a piece of Tchaikovsky running around in my head (one of the movements from Symphony 5 or 6 – the one that goes da/ra- dadaa/- da da /dara da/da;- da /ra-dadaa/-dadaa/- dadaaaaa;- da/ra-dadaa/- dada /dara da /da;- da /ra- dadaa/- dadaa/- dadaaaaaa.  Da/ra-dadaa/-da da/da da da/-da da /daa da/daa da/daaa/~~~da/ra-dadaa/-da da/da da daa/-da da /daa da/daa da/daaaaa  repeat….   Did you get that???? <G> Handy hint – it’s in 3!)

Anyway, it was providing me with a good weaving rhythm and my legs and my arms were working in perfect synchronicity.  My selvedges were perfect, the beat was pretty even and I was ‘in the zone’.  I just love times like that!! 

After this lovely session of weaving, when I took the dog for a walk this evening, I was thinking about rhythm and I remembered listening to the shower this morning whilst I was drying myself.  It was dripping – as showers always do after they’ve been switched off – and whilst it was mostly fairly regular, there would suddenly be a short period where it went erratic and whilst I was listening, it did one of those irregular patterns – it sounded exactly like the rhythm at the end of Tchaik 5 or 6 before a dramatic pause (the new listener in audience always thinks the piece has finished and starts to clap!!) just before the final coda.  Anyway, this particular section just before the pause is one of those nightmare bits that you really have to know by heart as a performer and I always feel for the poor percussionist on the cymbals – it has to be the career ending part for them if they get it wrong ! – and the rhythm seems totally random.  Now, where did Tchaikovsky get that idea from?  Was he suddenly aware of his shower dripping or did he hear it as rain drops splashing off a tree?  Or something else?    

This kind of sudden thought always makes me smile and that put me in mind of a sudden thought I had whilst walking Charlie earlier this week.  We are very fortunate to have hedgerows criss-crossing the countryside here, delineating the field boundaries, and most of those hedges are of hawthorn.  This time of year, of course, we can actually see into the hedge itself, and I love to spot the rabbit holes and other roosting places of various animals.  What made me smile was when I saw about 3 or 4 rabbit holes all clustered together under a tree, I had a sudden recollection of a childhood memory.   I used to read the cartoon books of Rupert Bear, with his red jumper and yellow checked trousers and scarf, and his friends who were other sorts of animals like badgers, mice, foxes, as well as people such as the Professor and Tiger Lily, a Chinese girl, and imaginary creatures such as fairies, elves, pixies and the like.  They used to disappear down rabbit holes into caverns and wonderful homes under tree roots.  In a way it was related to Alice In Wonderland  (another book I love) and the cartoon still appears in the Daily Express newspaper.  It was put into book form and I loved the adventures of Rupert Bear.   His parents would give him good advice and morals – you know the sort of thing – and were always fair!!!! 

I love the feelings that these kind of thoughts and memories evoke.  The sudden warmth of that memory not only made me smile, it made me very thankful for books and imagination, and authors.  We have so many creative people to thank for making our lives more beautiful – composers, writers, artists.  I guess I’d also like to be a creative person who makes other people’s lives more beautiful through weaving. 

On my last day in Kuwait, we visited the Al Hashemi II dhow which stands proudly on the waterline below the Radison SAS hotel.  Although the Maritime Museum was closed for a conference, we were able to wander over the dhow and take photographs.  It is a truly impressive structure.  You will get lots of information about the building of the dhow, and its two sister ships, through the web link at the top of the blog. 

As you can see, I like to take more unusual angles and this one through the deck canopy to the mast and rigging really appealed. 

There were some amazing ropes and coils of ropes.  I won’t bore you by putting all my images up but this will give you an idea of the size and complexity of the ropes.

This is the view from the top deck towards the stern.  The dhow reminds me strongly of the galleons of Elizabethan times, and is the sort of image that comes to mind for pirate ships in old stories, and the vessel in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by CS Lewis, an old favourite of mine and one of the Chronicles of Narnia - a wonderful series of children’s books that I read and re-read even now!  I didn’t know that there was a film version of the book until very recently, so will have to watch it now! 

The wheel which you can just see on the left foreground here is huge - larger than me and I’m 5′ 8″.  It might help you to get an idea of the scale of the vessel.  There are men working on the deck caulking on the mid-deck to the right.

The attention to detail on board this vessel is meticulous.  These are the cabin roof joists in the stern below decks.  They are hand-gilded. 

The rooflights in the main cabin are beautiful, standing proud of the top deck. 

I couldn’t get my images of the ballroom, which is located in the belly of the boat, to do justice to the space, so I hope you will find images on the hotel website which will compensate.  However, these are the doors leading from the lobby into the ballroom and to me they have an Egyptian feel to them.  Beautiful and elegant.

Here’s a closeup so you can see the detailing.

Well, that’s all I had time for.  I hope to go back one day, if I’m invited, and would encourage you to visit if ever you are in that part of the world.  I had a wonderful time and met some wonderful women.  The Kuwait Textile Art Association is a diverse group of people and very welcoming.

I was threading up my loom this morning, getting ready to weave my Complex Weavers Collapse, Pleat and Bump Study Group samples for our annual sample exchange, and I was listening to a performance of Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No 5 performed by the Polish National Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Antoni Wit.  I was enjoying the performance of a piece which I have played many times as oboeist in several different orchestras over the years, and noticing the differences between this particular recording and some of the live performances I’ve played in.  Then it suddenly struck me….

Music and dance can be performed many times by many different artists.  Many conductors, orchestras, soloists, dance troupes, and choreographers use work composed by someone else but interpret it in a personal way. That is an accepted part of the music and the dance world.  And it happens with classic works and with contemporary works.  We get cover versions - other artists covering a song written by someone else, and often performed originally by someone other than the creator. 

However, in the visual and written arts, that rarely happens, and when it does, it is regarded as plagiarism and a bad thing.  This dichotomy interests me!  Why is it that such different methodologies appear so polarised depending on what art form you are engaging with?  There are exceptions of course.  If someone in the visual arts already famous in their own right does something reminiscent, say, of Bridget Riley, then that will usually be accepted as ok because they are already established in their own oeuvre.  However, if I was to re-interpret a Bridget Riley piece, then I would be copying or not showing originality.  Isn’t it curious? 

And as a writer, if I was to write a story based on a writing style of someone famous, then that would probably be ok.  But having just recently read Swiss Family Robinson, and currently reading Robinson Crusoe, it strikes me that the two books are more than just superficially alike!  Daniel Defoe got there first, a couple of centuries earlier!! 

As I straddle both camps - that of a musician and that of a visual artist through my weaving - it is interesting to note what I can and can’t do, ethically speaking.  It is not expected of me as a musician that I should compose my own work.  It is expected that I can play my instrument to a high standard and perform and re-interpret other people’s compositions.  As an artist, it is not expected that I re-interpret someone else’s compositions.  It is expected that I create my own visual language and have the skills to interpret my thoughts in the way that I chose to express myself.  As a conceptual artist, it is enough to have the thoughts and have followed them through to a conclusion.  It is not even expected that I have the skills to realise them - it is the thought process, not the physical manifestation which is the important element.  Hmmmmm.

What do you think?

Welcome to part 2 of my photos of Kuwait. 

I was only there for a few days, and a few of the museums Patricia and I went to visit were shut.  The one I’m really sorry about was the Tareq Rajab Museum.  If I ever get back to Kuwait, which I sincerely hope I will, then that is at the top of my visit list!! 

The first of my images today is of the Liberation Tower.  A communications tower which was started before the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, but remained remarkably undamaged.  It was completed after the liberation of Kuwait and is a landmark in the city.  A Google search will bring up some lovely images, but here is mine!

The next image is a minaret that is just outside Sadu House and I thought it was rather attractive!

The next stop was the Museum of Modern Art.  An unassuming place, situated in what looks like a derelict area, with the new Maritime Museum (only just opening) across the way, it was previously a boys’ school, and later a girls’ school before it acquired its current status.  It had an exhibition of a Norwegian artist’s work which was very vibrant, as well as its own purchased works of Arabic and figurative art, and many sculptures in the courtyard.  I wasn’t sure if it was permitted to photograph the paintings, so I took the safe option and didn’t.  However, the sculptures were ok….

 This inner sculpture courtyard had some lovely pieces in it, which are shown below.

I loved this piece, with its hands as molars set into a huge bottom mandible!

This was one of several pieces exploring the tension of trying to escape from confined boxes.   Very powerful images.

This was one of several sculptures in both bronze and wood, of Arab figures with no features but which convey the nature of the Bedouin and their timelessness.  Very contemplative.

This is the outer courtyard where the administration offices and the guest suite is located. 

Then it was off to Kuwait Towers, the iconic water towers that are always shown whenever Kuwait features in the news. 

These two water towers dominate the sea front at this part of the coastline.  Kuwait sweeps round pretty much a 90 degree angle at this point, and the Towers are on the edge of the corner, so they have a big vantage point.  The pinnacle houses the lighting system for the two towers. 

This angle made me reflect on Mandelbrot’s fractal of the Gingerbread Man.  If you don’t have a clue what I’m talking about, google Mandelbrot, or fractals and you’ll come up with some stunning images!  The Gingerbread Man is one of the fractal shapes that recur time and again….

This image was taken from the revolving observation platform towards the top of the larger tower.  Although the glass was somewhat murky (all that dust), there is a lot of atmospheric dust in the area, and I loved the looming look of this office building which I’ve nicknamed the CheeseStraw, or should that be Cheese Twist?   It looks like a brooding sculpture!

In the evening, we were heading to the old souq when I caught sight of this reflection of the sunset in an office building, and as we were stopped at traffic lights, I used the opportunity to capture it. 

This sails sculpture in the sunken centre of a large pedestrian underpass leading towards the old souq is a water feature.  A beautiful piece of public art.   

Finally, we dropped in to the Al Hashemi 2 Maritime Museum, which was shut, but the boat was beautifully lit. 

On Sunday, I’ll post the remaining photos of the Al Hashemi 2 which has a very interesting story….. In the meantime, Saturday is Midlands Textile Forum’s regular quarterly Babble & Dabble Day!  So I look forward to seeing some of you there!

At long last, I have now managed to get images uploaded, thanks to my website folks!! Yay!!

I still have some teething problems as I can’t seem to put more than one image up in one row, so sorry about this.  I’ll have to do several posts to show you what’s what.  Anyway, this is the view from my hotel window, showing the Kuwait skyline on my first morning, which was the best one for visibility.  All the other mornings had a severe dust haze over the entire city.

We are now in Sadu House, and this is the library.  If you look closely, you can see Peter Collingwood’s book ‘The Maker’s Hand’ on the bottom display shelf…..  This link has some really good images of the House.  Enjoy.

Sadu House was a family home, and this is a shot of everyday implements!

The rooms in Sadu House that aren’t the main part of the museum retain a family quality to them.  The covers on the seats are Sadu weaving incorporated into the furnishings, along with the wall coverings.

Bisht - the traditional covering cloak that a man wears over his dishdasha.

“Weaving in the settled urban environment was men’s work.  Much of the work was done after the pearl fishing season when the men had extra time on their hands.  The wool was bought in bulk and distributed to the women for spinning, then taken to a workshop for the weaving.  Most of the fabric was a plain unpatterned weave.  The woven fabric was made up into outer garments, called bisht, worn over the dishdasha, either as a protective cover or a ceremonial cloak.  It has been a traditional part of the Arab wardrobe for generations, in both towns and in the desert.”  (Information from Sadu House museum exhibit)

One of the methods Sadu House use to tell the story of the Bedouin and their Sadu weaving is the use of wall drawings to create the scene,as you can see in the bisht image.  I love these, so here are two more….

This is a lovely drawing showing how the sadu weaving was incorporated in the everyday life of the Bedouin in their desert environment.

This image is a typical Sadu weaving with the geometric patterning.  It is really decorative and intricate and takes a while to weave.  The Bedouin ladies’ hands get toughened with this kind of warp-faced pick-up technique.  Many more modern images find their way into the weaving these days, including scissors and simple camel shapes.

This cloth is dyed with natural dyes and again shows the warp-faced nature of the cloth they weave on very simple ground looms.  They sit on the warp to weave.  You can see some weavers in the link I gave you at the top of the page.

Tomorrow, I’ll show you some of Kuwait’s landmarks that I visited with Patricia.