The Process of Weaving a Rug

Last week, I wove a rug.

I used a traditional Scandinavian weaving pattern called krokbragd, or “the crooked path”. Usually, this type of weaving is done using a floor loom or rigid heddle loom, but I love doing things the hard way. Oh, and I don’t have a floor loom.

The usual look of krokbragd patterns often looks more like this:

Krokbragd coaster, woven by me.

But for this rug, I really wanted to see vertical stripes with a more rustic accent fiber—in this case, jute—complementing a color gradient, in this case blue. I still used the krokbragd twill pattern, but tried a version that maintained the same vertical striping all the way up. It was my first time weaving this pattern.

I didn’t want to use up my other large frame loom for this project because I am in the process of weaving a collection of tapestries for a gallery show in April. The rug was a creative detour, not what I’m “supposed” to be spending my time on. But sometimes (often) a creative idea takes hold and won’t let go, so I used copper pipe and fittings I already had on hand for another project, and constructed myself a large frame loom. I had to rearrange my studio—which is both my weaving studio and a studio apartment where I live—to accommodate the wide upright loom, but I found the space.

Homemade copper pipe loom.

Warping a loom that is taller than me (I’m 5’5”) is a workout, with a lot of squats and overhead reaches involved. I measured out 24 inches on two pieces of tape, which I placed on the top and bottom pipes. I stretched the warp yarn, a thick wool I had on hand, up down up down up down, until I had a two foot wide warp (the word used in weaving for the vertical strings upon which the weaving is built). For the weft (the yarn that is woven in through the warp strings to create the pattern—and actually the namesake for this publication) I chose scratchy Icelandic wool and waxed jute, all of which I already had on my yarn shelves.

Wool rug warp.

With a plain weave (also called tabby weave), the pattern is fairly straightforward. The weft is carried over and under alternating warp threads, and on the return pass back through, is carried over and under the opposite threads. The weft is packed down each time. Each row builds on the next row. Every row is dependent on the row before to hold it.

With krokbragd on a tapestry loom, more thought is involved. The pattern involves keeping track of which row you’re on in the 3-row pattern, so you know how many warps to go over and under. There aren’t a lot of resources out there online that demonstrate how to do krokbragd on a tapestry loom, possibly because it is very time consuming and inconvenient. (Maybe, once I have more practice, I create a resource.) But after some trial and error with the first few rows, I figured it out and after a few inches/hours, I didn’t have to think about it as closely.

For the first half of this rug, I had to sit crosslegged on the floor. Aurora was never far away, often laying with his back against me. I knew I want to create a gradient of blue wool, accentuated by the natural jute columns. I ran out of yarn within the first ten inches, and visited my favorite local yarn shop Dappled Fern Fibers. They helped me order more of what I needed, and I took the weeklong hiatus of waiting for the yarn to weave a tapestry for the upcoming show.

Dreamy pink dusk over the Sawtooth Mountains/Lake Superior.

When the yarn arrived in my mailbox after a week or so, I fortuitously had an entire day just to work on the rug. When I am excited about a project, I can easily weave for 8-10 hours in a day. Bolstered by coffee, then sparkling water, and audiobooks, podcasts, and after 5 pm, TV shows, I am completely content weaving from dawn til well after dusk. That day happened to turn cold and blustery after an incredibly mild week, and the weather made the day inside weaving seem extra sweet. The sun still filtered through the window, and I kept a fire going in the woodstove.

Just over halfway, I can graduate from kneeling on the floor to sitting in a chair.

The slow unfolding of a weaving is a beautiful and challenging thing. It takes time and commitment to pack row after row after row and watch the piece take shape. One inch takes about an hour. A big continuous project requires trust in the colors and pattern I have chosen. Sometimes halfway through I think I don’t like something, and then have to decide whether or not to take the time to alter it or keep on going and live with it. Even when I find my flow and the pattern has become second nature, there is still a choice in every row—when to transition to the next color, how to best maintain the straight selvedge.

It took about 30 hours to complete the rug, spread out between four days (with a long week of yarn waiting in there). I finished the ends with a row of half-hitch knots across the top and bottom.

Then the moment of truth: cutting it off the loom and holding it for the first time. I love how thick and sturdy it turned out. I probably have two or three hours worth of work left to finish the back, weaving in the loose ends and trimming the warp ends, which will become the fringe.

I’m not sure yet what I’ll do with it. I haven’t sold woven rugs (I do sell tufted rugs) because pricing them is such a challenge. To account for over 30 hours of work, materials, and overhead, this relatively small 2 x 3 foot rug *should* cost over $1000 just to cover costs, $2000 if I wanted to make a profit.

More than likely that means I’ll keep it for myself/Aurora, who already has claimed it as his own, and/or have it for sale at in-person events this summer.

Thank you for reading about my weaving process! I hope to do these craft process focused emails more regularly.

If you’d like to see more of my weaving work, check it out on my website www.northwoven.com or Instagram @emily_wick_