Pregnant with my first child and still living in San Francisco (with my first husband) I suddenly got this urge to weave again. I had been producing a fair amount of needlepoint, and even though I could finally afford the materials I needed (although I was still in cheap mode and never splurged on anything . . . that would come later, thank goodness, because splurging on art/craft supplies is imperative!) I wasn’t satisfied.
There are certain moments in your life you can never forget. One of mine is the first time I encountered a weaving loom. I was about nine years old and we were in, of all places, Macy’s. I can’t for the life of me remember exactly what department we were in. I am trying to call up an exact image of the shelf where I found the loom. I suppose it was a craft department of sorts, but no such thing currently exists at Macy’s. I can’t imagine what was on those shelves besides the one thing that caught my attention and dug its claws into me. It was a rigid heddle loom in a rectangular box. I was hooked. I wanted it. Christmas was just around the corner and I found my present.