Ahhhhhhhh. Yesterday was the first day of 2014 I was out on location weaving. Outside! Weaving big! Finally! I was finishing up the last couple feet of the large Thicket I started late last Summer for Tiny Diner in South Minneapolis. (I’m beyond excited to be a part of this overall project, so will post more about it later.) At 8-9 ft in diameter and 11-12 ft tall, the Tiny Diner Thicket is a B E A S T. It has two windows and two doors–one adult sized and one child sized. I’m thrilled to meet up with this gal again and witness the transformation the entire job site has taken over the Winter. (This place is going to be swamped once it’s open to the public.)
While weaving 10 feet up in the air was invigorating, it was also suuuuper awkward. My Winter body was a bit confused by the gross motor skill demands this requires. Pretty much all my making over the cold months is done at hand scale, basically right in front of my face. I can even work sitting down. Weaving at this ginormous scale, bending and twisting 8-10 ft long sticks to juuuuuuust before their breaking point requires a level of strength and control I'm always surprised I have. (I’m sore all over today) I whipped myself in the face a couple times–oh yeah, these sticks are basically switches. I almost pinched my thumb off while twisting two sticks together–right, THAT’s why I’m so picky about my gloves. Oops, I didn’t notice I was weaving in the wrong direction: oh yes, I need to stand back from my work every once in a while to see what’s actually going on. But then I got into the flow, and it all seemed “easy” again. That flow of work–where mind and body and material are all in sync–it’s golden.