In my quest to become a more conscious spinner, (I won’t say a better spinner, because I spin just fine, thank you) I’m learning to be aware of what’s going on with my hands, feet and wheel for a certain level of consistency when I want it.
I’d like to be one of those spinners who seem to have a Vulcan mind meld with their wheels. “I’m going to spin a worsted 3-ply that will be a dk weight yarn”, they say, and twist, turn, treadle they do, effortlessly.
My latest observation is that my spinning is influenced dramatically by where I am, who I’m with and others things that are going on around me – the View from My Wheel.
The View from My Wheel on the vacation pictured at left is peaceful solitude. I spun only when I was alone, early in the morning, or when the rest were off swimming or tramping through the woods.
I watched an eagle family who’ve nested on the lake and loons swimming with their chick. My hands moved softly and my feet slowed down, I was able to perfect fat lofty yarn on this vacation, and spin lovely woolen singles.
I couldn’t hurry my spinning. The rushing on this vacation made a mess of my yarn. I couldn’t spin worsted or thick-and-thin yarns. My spinning brain only wanted long, gentle motions. Working in a different style was frustrating and unproductive.
When I went with the spinning that matched the View from My Wheel, it was all smooth sailing and lovely yarn, a feeling of working together with my wheel, not against it. My hands and feet remembered better too, after I got home and spun similar yarn.
Along with all of my regular notes associated with spinning particular yarn, I’m now adding View from My Wheel, because, for me, it makes a difference.