Fiber Raven Soiree

Thoughts on the Loose

I am not in Carmel. I am not soaking up the sunshine and getting treated to fabulous massages, facials and beautifying treatments at a resort. The Gray is not on the tennis court taking lessons and having a blast.

But we were supposed to be doing just that this week.

It's all really funny when we think about it. The inlaws want us to go to Ireland with them in August. We angst and worry and waver and finally give up the vacation that was to celebrate our anniversary in order to accompany the family to far lands. Such a sacrifice. Only now, we don't know whether our revered father in law actually had his dates straight. It could be next May that they are going!

At any rate, it is still our anniversary. Five years and two computers ago I met the Great Gray One online, through matchmaker.com. Four years ago we walked arm in arm through the security gate at the Bellevue courthouse and were married by the nicest judge. I have never regretted it.

This week will be full of fibery adventures. I will be finishing my set of six dish towels as my homework for weaving class, and weaving a sample of my next project, which is still to be decided.

Wednesday and Thursday I will be taking a silk warp painting workshop with Kris Abshire, which of course will enable me to paint yarns for knitting as well.

Tonight the Ferals meet and so I must cast about for a knitting project that I can come up to speed on quickly!

Remember the silk yarn that I dyed in Brazilwood in the ball? Well, fifteen hours of detangling later, it is finally reskeined and beautiful. That's what I've been doing instead of knitting every night while Gray snoozes beside me and I pretend to watch tv with him. It took me four nights of not watching tv just to find the end of the yarn.

Ok, I'm going to wander off in a direction now that may seem odd, but consumed my mind yesterday as I sleyed and threaded my loom.

It occurred to me that every skill I possess, everything that I am naturally good at, is brought to bear in weaving. Every IQ test I have taken shows me at 100% on pattern recognition. Weaving combines three patterns: threading, tie-up and treadling. I enjoy and am largely successful at color interaction (although I've had a couple of disasters!). I am good at math-- calculations are crucial to weaving.

I enjoy bringing order to chaos, but I do not like terribly long-term projects. I am very logical and can see variations on a pattern. I like planning things ahead of time and then having the mindless work at the end. I enjoy hand finishing hems and fringes.

These things and more were on my mind as it started to wander down theory lane. Why don't aptitude tests recommend weaving when they see these skills on a test? They recommend computer programming or engineering instead. Such is the bias of our time.

I thought: how did my cells evolve to support all this? Are particular aptitudes and skills passed through DNA? Is this a hereditary thing? My father's people are from Tennessee-- dyers, quilters, musicians, farmers. I have no aptitude or love for farming, but I do love animals. I do enjoy dyeing, quilting and music. My mother's side of the family is largely undocumented, although she was half french and her father's name was Leman DuBois.

Still thinking, still thinking-- the DuBois ancestors came from France in the late 1600's - 1700's, most Huguenots. They settled in eastern Canada and many migrated down. Hmmm. There seem to be a lot of looms in Quebec...

Then there were the Arcadians-- those who lived in what is now Maine, and the far eastern provinces of Canada (but not Quebec). I don't know much about this, but it looks like the English dispersed them, much like the US dispersed the Cherokees, sending them to Louisiana, Bermuda, all kinds of faraway lands. This is the origin of the Cajuns, and it could be that Leman came from Louisiana.

It occurred to me to Google on both DuBoise and weaving, and I came up with the story of Oscar Beriau, which I encourage you to read. A fascinating man, he was responsible for infusing Quebec with education and support to revive their dying knowledge of weaving.

The "DuBois" that was found by Google at the Beriau site was in his lineage, but the name was actually [somethingelse] dit DuBois. What in the world does "dit [anothername] mean? I knew that dit is French for "say", as in "je dit". I looked it up and was taken aback. In Quebec it was the custom many times to take another name to distinguish yourself from, say, your brother; or to specify where you lived, or to connect you with your homeland in France. Since "du bois" literally means "of the woods", the term could have been attached to anyone's name and eventually used instead of it. Great. I'll never find my people!

So, although nothing really came of my search I learned a lot. And if one's DNA really possesses the honed skills of one's ancestors it would be so cool if one day you could take a blood test that would say "you should be a weaver" or "you should be a scientist" or "you should crawl into a hole and never be seen by polite society."

As Judith MacKenzie says "Weaving is nothing but thread management." Ironically, the same term applies to computer programming.

My head swims.