STORYMy North Carolina grandmother was a weaver. Today her four harness Leclerc loom is part of my studio in New Orleans. When I first set up the loom in the Tennessee mountains I found a bag of shuttles and reed hooks, spindles and bobbins, and a length of cloth strips, stitched end to end and wound into a ball. In that ball of rag rug weft my mother recognized material from a childhood dress. The tradition is unbroken. I am a weaver in a family of weavers.
Inspired by light and sky I weave table mats, scarves, and backpack panels. I use upholstery remnants to make rag rugs on cotton warps….useful, beautiful, thoughtful things.
”A weaver who has to direct and to interweave a great many little threads has no time to philosophize about it, but rather he is so absorbed in his work that he doesn't think but acts, and he feels how things must go more than he can explain it."
Vincent van Gogh [at top of this page: The Weaver by Vincent van Gogh 1884]