A spun thread is a thing of energy. Each turn of the spindle is trapped in the fiber, it collapses the chaos of a puff, stills it, stores the turn. The spindle's weight holds the tension, the whorl's inertia carries through assisted occasionally by the flick of fingers, twist upon twist upon twist.

The wool fed to it lengthens the thread and the ever turning spindle lowers to the ground. When spun beyond the thread's capacity to store energy the spindle's whirling slows and the finished thread is raised to be wrapped around the shaft. If the thread is let loose it meets itself with glee, wrapping swiftly into a ply. Playful and new. An active line.

When newly spun and measured into a skein it twists in a hundred places, loopy and wild. Some tame it with hot water and soap, but sometimes it should just be.

Erin Curry spun photograph

*my first wheelspun, merino wool*



Because sometimes between one mess and another I remember to catch the light.


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