Spinning is the fiber craft that is honestly the most process oriented, meditative craft for me. I can talk some good talk about weaving and sewing and knitting being a meditative process, and it can be! I often get lost in the rhythm or the focus of the handwork, but for me they are very much product-oriented all the same. I knit because I want a sweater, I weave because I want a towel or have a vision of cloth, I sew to make a thing or fix a thing. But spinning! Spinning is a joy and a solace. Its about the whims of texture and color. Its about the rhythm of hands (and sometimes feet). Adding twist untangles my brain. My breath slows. I fall into the process.

2021 was the year of reading words instead of making yarn. It was lovely, and an indulgence I’d mostly given up on in the oh-so-young childhood years. Which is to say that very little was spun, my spindles got dusty, my wheel neglected. (Can you tell I’ve been picking them up again, since I’m waxing poetic about it?) But I did get a bit of this and a bit of that spun up: here’s 2021 in twist.

2 skeins of handspun yarn on a wooden table by a silver snowflake candleholder

Twinkle Lights and Christmas Market are two colorways from Inglenook Fibers, on two of my favorite bases: targhee/bamboo/silk and merino/tussah/flax respectively. These were a pure indulgence and spun on a whim in the aftermath of the holidays and to bring in the new year for 2021. They’re both destined to find homes on the loom, and I cannot wait to see them woven up.

Spindles of bi colored yarn on a floof of bi colored wool in a window

Spindles and a honeycomb mug on a grandmothers flower garden quilt

These spindles are full of Jacob wool from a bit of a fleece that was part of the Guild’s program about the Shave ‘em to Save ‘em program. I’m collecting a whole pile of spun yarn from various undyed fibers and am only beginning to dream up what they might become.

Two autumnal handspun skeins pose with a wooden fox and some usnea lichen

Turning Leaf Lichen is another Inglenook Fibers- a combination of two different batts, each spun as one of the two plies. I really enjoy spinning from batts, the textural variety between different wools, silks, and viscose fibers is a delight. This recently migrated into my “possibly a sweater” pile from my “probably to be woven” pile. But we’ll see.

Skein of handspun wool with a mug and knitting needles on a wooden table

This skein of superwash wool was an impulse purchase at the Fairbanks Fiber Fest a few years ago. It was spun and knitted up into a shawl for Miss 3 this year. I think it was for her birthday?

Skeins of Halloween themed yarn pose with white and purple flowers

This bit of Corriedale is the Witches Brew colorway curated by @1764Shepardess for #spin15aday. Some year eventually I’ll do a Halloween themed warp, and in the meantime some of this might find its way into a doll shawl or three.

2 Skeins of orange and brown and grey wool pose with a wooden fox

These skeins! These are 2 ply lace weight skeins in The Woodland Pixie’s Red Fox colorway and I am as proud of them as I am of anything else I have ever spun. They’re destined for the Baby Fox warp. Once upon a time when I began spinning them, I was wearing my little foxy girl on my back nearly every day and these skeins were going to become a baby wrap. But we’ve since outgrown our wearing days, so they’ll be a for a couple of the specialest shawls ever. As you may have guessed, I began spinning these YEARS ago. And they hovered over me as an unfinished spin that I owed my attention to for the entire time, even as I set aside the bobbins and spun on something else. Part of it was the determination to spin fine a enough for a true two ply laceweight (I’ve just got a new whorl with higher ratios that should make such a thing easier or at least faster in the future), and part of it was that I was spinning for a product rather than for pure delight. The became a slog. The actual spinning was enjoyable, but my relationship with the project ceased to be, somewhere along the way. This is the spin that taught me that its not worth it to place expectations of productivity on my weaving. We - the yarn and I - are both better served if I flit from spin to spin on the whims of joy and indulgence.

I’m not sure what that means for the two sweater spins and the beginnings of a blanket spin sitting waiting on my shelves, nor for my firm preference to knit and wear sweaters of handspun, but I suppose it will all work itself out so long as I give myself permission to enjoy every bit of the process and release the expectations that make a meditative and indulgent practice into a job.

A skein of handspun wool/silk yarn in shades of cream, red, brown, and green rests on a weathered wooden table with a white flower | 14 Mile Farm Handweaving and Homesteading in Alaska

A skein of handspun wool/silk yarn in shades of blue and green rests on a weathered wooden table with a white flower | 14 Mile Farm Handweaving and Homesteading in Alaska

I've fallen head over heels in love with making my own yarn. I knew this was coming, that one day my spinning wheel and I would begin a love affair. Handweaving is already a slow artform, requiring meticulous care and attention. Handspinning the yarn with which to handweave slows it yet again and adds layers of love and meaning to every thread in the finished product. It is different though, where weaving requires meticulousness and lots of planning for each piece, spinning has a different flow to it, more organic and spontaneous but also oh so meditative. The combination of the two crafts are synergistic for me, each filling the spaces in my creative heart that the other leaves open.

The next step in the #slowfiber journey is clearly to get my own sheep, and I'm already dreaming of it.