I cut the 2 towels in half before I washed them because I thought the two different twists of cotton would not do well in the washing. Happily I was wrong, and the piece on the left washed up beautifully. The commercially dyed yarn is not as soft and cuddly as the ikat dyed yarn, and these towels do not feel as yummy as the first two test warps.
My experiments do not always come out so well.
I just received this poem from a friend and would love to share it with you.
By Scottish poet Fiona McLeod (1855-1910)
I dreamed of Orchil, the dim goddess who is under the brown earth, in a vast cavern, where she weaves at two looms. With one hand she weaves life upward through the grass; with the other she weaves death downward through the mould; and the sound of the weaving is Eternity, and the name of it in the green world is Time. And, through all, Orchil weaves the weft of Eternal Beauty, that passeth not, though its soul is Change. This is my comfort, O Beauty that art of Time, who am faint and hopeless in the strong sound of that other weaving, where Orchil, the dim goddess, sits at her loom under the brown earth.