“a wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away…”
– ee cummings
We always wanted something that we could make that was an essence of the brightness we’ve felt in our lives, a reverberation of all the good we get in all the great days we’re so lucky to have.
Like the day we met Pam, a lovely, talented weaver and the genius behind our blankets. Walking into Pam’s mill – an unassuming shed in the serene woods of Robert’s Creek – was something of strolling into an ee cummings poem; we knew we were surrounded by brilliance, by something we didn’t quite comprehend at first, but we didn’t want to be out of it’s grasp. A mill that runs on antique looms is like nothing you’ve ever experienced – until you do. And then bit by bit, thread by thread, you become intertwined in the workings, enraptured by the spools on the creel, drawn in by the feeding reeds, overwhelmed by the rondure of the ancient warper, the beat of the bullet of the shuttle loom. And then at night you start to dream of interlacing patterns, warps and wefts blanketing your sleep. It all gets a hold of you, weaving into the creases of your mind.
We’re waxing poetic here, but it’s not our imagination, not entirely. We became obsessed in the best way. After those first rainy March hours with Pam, we spent the weekend, then the week, researching, buying books and running our palms over the gorgeous blankets we brought home, peering into the interlocking threads that form the cloth. We were awed, we were shook up. We’d spent so much time of our lives trying to find beauty we believed in. And somehow, we found Pam, or, we all found each other. We’re so grateful and happy – this collaboration is so much better than we could have imagined.