about me 
My path as a weaver began in the hazy days of Romper Room with a blue metal potholder-making loom and those stretchy loop things. Never good at representational drawing, I sought work for my hands and expression for my soul in making things: mosaic, collage, and then knitting, sewing and clothing design.
I learned to knit at my mother's knee, as she designed patterns and did sample knitting for yarn companies back in the 1960's. I knitted my way through school, college, medical school and residency, usually a sweater per year. I knitted through pregnancy, childbirth (well, not really), and child-rearing, neonatal intensive care, neurodevelopmental therapies, aikido lessons and choir rehearsals. I knitted through chemotherapy, radiation, recurrence and surgeries. I knitted until my middle-aged hands required me to slow down. Early on, it became clear that my need to create would always outstrip my patience and skill as a crafter, but the sweaters kept coming. Every pattern was changed, twisted, turned on its head. No design escaped the whirling energies of my No. 2 pencil and 4x4 graph paper.
When my younger child reached teenage, I had to realize that her physical disabilities would prevent her from learning to knit. Yet she had the same inborn need for busy hands, for sorting colors, for creating patterns. So the quest began for a medium that would be accessible to her, and provide similar creative satisfaction.
I learned to knit at my mother's knee, as she designed patterns and did sample knitting for yarn companies back in the 1960's. I knitted my way through school, college, medical school and residency, usually a sweater per year. I knitted through pregnancy, childbirth (well, not really), and child-rearing, neonatal intensive care, neurodevelopmental therapies, aikido lessons and choir rehearsals. I knitted through chemotherapy, radiation, recurrence and surgeries. I knitted until my middle-aged hands required me to slow down. Early on, it became clear that my need to create would always outstrip my patience and skill as a crafter, but the sweaters kept coming. Every pattern was changed, twisted, turned on its head. No design escaped the whirling energies of my No. 2 pencil and 4x4 graph paper.
When my younger child reached teenage, I had to realize that her physical disabilities would prevent her from learning to knit. Yet she had the same inborn need for busy hands, for sorting colors, for creating patterns. So the quest began for a medium that would be accessible to her, and provide similar creative satisfaction.
In Fall,
2006, while googling around in search of a respite week and a craft
that I could offer to my daughter, I found Saori. A week with Terri
Bibby up in British Columbia, more training from Kim Adam in Nanaimo,
advice from Saori Worcester, encouragement from friends, neighbors, and relatives, unflagging
support from darling husband Richard, and Weaving A Way was born. The rest, to coin a phrase,
will one day be history.
Carol Jackson
Weaving A Way
Seattle, WA
June, 2007
Stay tuned!
Carol Jackson
Weaving A Way
Seattle, WA
June, 2007
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