Tools of the Trade

This weekend a few of us visited the De Young museum in San Francisco. One of the exhibits consisted of Persian weaving, not just the rugs but storage bags, camel trappings, etc. I was fascinated by the intricacy of the designs and wondered at the complexity of what went into the making of such things, the dyes, looms and all the time. I wondered if the makers would recognize the small differences of other weavers and know who did what or what tribe or village they were from. Then I noticed a picture on the wall next to one of the hanging weaving. The picture was of a women, bare-footed but with an intricately woven shawl on her back, sitting squat over a half finished rug with small spools of different colored wool scattered about the point of her attention and her fingers. The rug was bound onto a frame of four large branches. That is the loom, that is it: four big sticks that make a frame that lay on the ground that the weaver squats on and makes priceless things with wool and knowledge and her time in the midst of the desert. There are no overly cleaver means or mechanics involved, craft and imagination are all that is needed.

I have been a potter long enough to know that all I really need is: clay, fuel, a match and time that was not occupied with making a living, but I was somehow overwhelmed by the idea that these crafters lived in such a place that this was possible, that craft lived stretched out in the middle of the village, no permits, no environmental impact, no certificate no deed necessary. She knows that whoever she makes this for is not going to settle for something found cheaper at the mall. This is part of who they are and the patron knows exactly what went into the making, as they have seen her out there working on the weaving. Many of the makers that I know make their own tools. Most likely because their vision makes a special tool a necessity. Clever but not overly so, and with need in mind.