1st of Spring, 511 AV Finally finished setting the warp on his loom to the appropriate tension, he began promptly on the process of weaving by sliding the emerald silk string through the shed, and bringing the beater down to make the first line in what would be a silk scarf when everything was done. It was a busy day at the Weft and Warp, made busier still by the absence of a few of it's teachers. While it did manage to sell its products, the Weft and Warp was first and foremost as weaving school, and with some of the teachers absence, others working within had to take on students, including those who weren't even teachers but simply weaved cloth for the school to sell to support itself. Thankfully, Dovinya hadn't been among those told to teach for in truth he had no desire nor skill to teach the younger symenestra that came there the art of weaving though he certainly would try if so ordered. It would not be good to say no to the proprietors after all, and they happened to be people he had grown to like in any case. For now, he'd simply concentrate on his own work, which by happened to be making the fabric for the scarf and delivering it to another weaver to sew it up into the masterful work fitting for sale at such a grand establishment this one was. Tossing the wood block back through the opposite side of the shed once more, he threaded the silk thread through again, and promptly tightened it's connection to the weft by sliding the larger wooden block down and pushing the thread tightly in place with the beater. Like in many things, he found weaving mediative as well, which is why he suspected he enjoyed his work so much. After all who could deny the peace that came with working and knowing you had purpose, or even the elation that came with completing a piece of fabric. It was all apart of the many small joys to be found in life in Kalinor, something he pitted outsiders for not knowing. With dexterous hands, he slid the wood block up, and reopened the shed between the threads enough that he could slide the thread through, and quickly closed it down only to open it again and repeat the process. It was a strange thing to think that by using less effort, but more purposeful movements that he could weave the fabric faster than if he went about it spending time to open it all the way and spend unnecessary time. Of course he wanted to the fabric to be flawless, but if he could accomplish the same but in less time, it likely help a lot more around the Weft and Warp with things being as busy as they were. It drew a rare genuine smile to his features at having intuited a new methodology for his weaving practice, though the thought that he could be completely off the mark soured that smile soon enough. Still he went about using his knew method with the loom, sliding the wooden square he used to anchor the thread through the shed and catching it gracefully on the other side, only to slide it back through once the beater had come back down and up. Before him the threads where slowly taking shape into the long sheet of fabric they would become and to his satisfaction no knots showed in is work, a vast improvement from when he was still green in the art. It became like an idle movement after that, his sliding the thread through the shed a constant, rhythmic movement till at last the emerald fabric was finished halfway. Now it was time to make things interesting and truly attempt to expand his talents. Rather than make the plain fabric he usually did, he would be attempting to add a pattern to it's center, making it more than just a simple scarf in the end. He wouldn't try anything complex though as another weaver had warned him against, though a simple circle would suffice for now, and allow the sewer quite a bit of a chance to be creative with the embroidering process. Untying the emerald silk thread from the wooden square so to not waste it, he put it in the basket at his side and drew from it instead a silk thread dyed two distinct shades of green and regular intervals at his request. Measuring out a length of the thread, he carefully cut it and took it in his hand and then turned his attention to his loom and hand threading it into the weft carefully as to only leave one darker green interval in the middle of the silken thread to serve as the base for his circle, the rest of the thread being the same emerald green as the rest of the fabric. Down the beater came sealing it in place and in his hand was another thread which he promptly slid in place building upon the design below it. He repeated the method over and over again until the entire circle had taken shape in the center of the fabric, and he could resume simply tossing the square through the shed and making quick work out of forming the rest of the fabric. In the end it had taken him three bells of effort to make the fabric, and seeing the piece finished, he cut it from the threads on its ends as close as he could manage, and folding the fabric, he walked across the room to deposited it beside a woman quietly humming while she sewed. Walking back across the room he resumed his spot in front of his loom, and back to the work of making fabric for the scarves to be made. |