Iona

A weaver friend of mine passed along a few binders full of another weavers’ work that was destined for the trash bin.  Countless multi-color festive pages filled with weaves, samples, technical information, and what resembled a few creatures’ former dwellings.  Years of someone else’s work meticulously gathered, sometimes with a key ingredient missing from the formula.  An invitation to dig my heels in deep, a mystery unsolved.  Mixed in with the smell of abandoned creativity were a few ideas that with fresh eyes could translate with the right kind of encouragement.  The first round of my development led me here, romanced in all black, transparency mixed with the dark softness of alpaca.  Now to take it down a notch in intensity to a playful summer version that won’t scare the neighbors.

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