Things are floating presently. These mornings the dense fog floats up towards the mountain from the valley, the floating selvedge weights hang suspended until the weaving is finished, and even the most subtle windowpane texture seems to float in the cloth. And I have been floating too; between resolve and distraction, between cool mornings and warm afternoons, between the first half of the warp, and now the second.

I have been making steady progress. It is a quiet kind of work as I study and admire the linen, and I find myself enjoying the rhythm of the loom, especially while things are even more quiet than usual, even more still than usual. Weaving linen requires a lot of focus, much like any important journey. I’m keeping at it, and watching my “weavers’ angle”, even in the times I’m not writing as much, it is because the work itself is a way of staying connected.

And as I have finally reached a bit of a turning point, having woven half the warp, I feel suspended and hanging a bit, like the floating selvedge weights, yet at the same time I feel things notching-up with excitement to finish, finding it interesting how focus becomes clearer once you finally sense the end ahead.