|four days into the purple season of Advent|
I set out a few rules for myself when I began:
Weave every day in the color for that season.
Use scrap yarn on hand.
If away from home, leave open warps (do not weave) for that day or days.
Do not unweave.
|the week of Easter Sunday; including silver as well as white|
|a couple weeks into Ordinary Time, the green season of growth following the white Easter season. |
Each day I wove a new leaf motif.
|detail of leaf shapes|
The diary was great practice in weaving with fluency, in paying attention, being present, and responding to what's happening in front of me. I was forced to be creative every single day, to sustain interest in a project in which I was using the same color, green, for six straight months of Ordinary Time. (I was so disappointed to be away on Pentecost Sunday, the one red day of the liturgical year. I really wanted to weave that red bit! That time I did not break the rule.)
You might recall that it was a summer in which news of one mass shooting or terrorist attack followed another. I began to weave brown leaves each day there was news of an attack, whether here at home or abroad. Orlando. Istanbul. Baton Rouge. Minneapolis. Dallas. Nice. Tokyo. And so on.
An acquaintance of mine hiked the entire Appalachian Trail this year, from Georgia to Maine, from March to September, and he wrote about his adventures in the local paper. "The Trail provides," he wrote once. Weaving a tapestry diary is also a long journey. Each day's time at the loom provided practice for me in moving forward in faith, despite distractions, heartache, tiredness, and uncertainty.
|the brown outline of a leave was woven to commemorate 9/11|
It's amazing what can happen when you commit to moving forward a little bit, every single day.
|tapestry diary ready for cutting off|