Out in the beautiful lushness of central Corsica, about as far from the sea as I am close to it, is a lovely workshop of knitters and dyers of Corsican wool, called Lana Corsa. It's the only place in the world I know of where Corsican wool is worked with and sold, and any tradition of Corsican wool processing kept alive. All the rest of the wool in this shepherding land is burned as refuse.
This morning, Will and I drove out to visit the workshop for the first time since they moved into their new building. A huge airy shop in front and two big workrooms behind, brilliantly sunny day, running river, yellow rape, happy Labrodor! I foolishly left my camera behind, so until I go back, here's their wool sample card for you to look at --->.
The reason I'm writing about this is because the women who work at Lana Corsa have decided to expand their wool works and want to learn to weave. Several years ago, I wove a couple of blankets from some wool they gave me, and they sold the blankets for me in record time. They wanted me to continue at that time, but wool blankets just weren't the direction my weaving wanted to go. Now the women at Lana Corsa have asked me to teach them how to use the two looms they've just purchased, and I'm pleased to say we're having an intensive weaving week in the middle of May!
This touches me deeply and I'm so very pleased to do it. The rupture I've felt with my weaving since we decided to leave here has been a sadness in my heart. I agreed to do this course before the move was an issue, and I've been worried about it for weeks, seeing it looming in the future and wondering how I would ever make it through the emotions. But our visit today was a real joy---all my love for weaving came with me, and these women's enthusiasm and determination was inspiring. It's going to be wonderful fun!
Lana Corsa is well aware that if they don't preserve the tradition of Corsican wool, it's likely that no one will. There are few weavers in Corsica any more, and my own ideas for my weaving workshop here were inspired by the few bits I'd been able to unearth. It's a very poignant opportunity for me and I'm deeply touched that I can give something back to this island before I leave.
What was looking like a formidable task is turning into a gift to me. How could I have planned it any better? And when I go in May, I'll be sure and bring my camera!
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