Little Paper Sheep

I hope your week is going well and is feeling springlike and full of new energies. ūüôā

Nothing too big to report on my end this day, except that I had a hankering to make some little paper sheep Рa combo of watercolour paper and Black Magic india ink (I love that stuff). Since teensy sheep call for teensy scissors,  I was aided by a quite portable pair of Swiss Army scissors. The little ones that, very much like these sheep, you can put in your pocket.

I’m not yet sure what to do with these sheep or where they’ll find their home; for the time being, I’m letting them explore their new environment on their quite wonky paper feet.

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

paper sheeppaper sheep 2paper sheep 3

Toronto skyline

During the holidays, my thoughts take a natural homeward turn. I keep this skyline doodle by my work station – it reminds me of the vibrant and electric place where I grew up.


Toronto, 6.5″ x 5.5.” India ink and acrylic on watercolour paper

Happy Friday!

Knitting and weaving: a symbiotic relationship

I am just waking up to the mutually enabling relationship between knitting and weaving.

I have been generating lots of scrap yarn in the past month – odds and ends left over from various projects. I set aside the bigger scraps for future knitting, but have been scratching my head over what to do with the littler scraps.

It only recently occurred to me to take them to my frame lap loom. While my most recent woven mat was a patterned weave, I became curious about improvisational tapestry weaving. Looking at different works, I enjoyed how the fibres created paint-like dollops, dabs, and strokes.

I also find something musical about the motion of lap-loom weaving – watching colourful forms appear with each row is like strumming a strange, colour-capturing instrument whose notes are tenderly suspended in the warp. It’s that tender suspension that makes weaving magical to me. While I think of knitting as fabric made from rhythmic loops, I think of weaving as making cloth from melodies of colour – like ‘playing the loom.’ Both are delightful.


In the spirit of curiosity, I warped my frame loom last Wednesday. It’s made from an old picture frame (note the chipping varnish). ¬†The Weaving Loom¬†offers a basic tutorial on how to warp a frame loom¬†(and also how to make one¬†with very basic materials). Warping is quite straightforward, even relaxing. The pieces of blue washi tape are surprisingly good at forming a thin ridge that keeps the warp threads in place. When tensioned, the threads do stay put.

Left: Warping the night away.  Right: All warped up. I should have put down one more warp strand. They seem uneven. The strap on the left is my very first weave. I keep it on the loom as a reminder and dwelling place for the weaving muse.

I took to the loom the next day, Thursday, with my miscellaneous odds and ends. I decided just to start weaving, with no pattern in mind. I was feeling triangles that day, and started with a single form, in cotton yarn.


I decided to add another one, in a wool-acrylic blend, taken from a knitting project I’m looking forward to completing soon. Working with this soft and fluffy pink yarn felt¬†like weaving with cotton candy.

Sending the needle through the shed, or the space created by separating alternating warp threads. I used a plastic ruler as a shed stick.
Smoothing down the weft with a fork.

2 triangles led to a third, and more, incorporating the scrap yarn from my recent beanie project.




By the dying light of dinner time, I decided to call it a day.


Have I fallen down a fibre-craft rabbit hole, a reinforcing knitting-weaving cycle? It seems so. But, I’m happy to have found a home for all the wayward scraps. Plus, an extra dose of fibre is good for you. ¬†ūüôā

I will revisit this project again soon; it will go and grow with the knitting. Happy weekend.