A year ago I bought a secondhand loom. An old 8-shaft floor loom that I had never used before, let alone put back together from scratch…

Made by a long-running Finnish family company, a vintage Toika model from the 1960s that had been in storage for years. Its last warp still attached, every knot still intact. Carefully taken apart and stacked loose inside the back of van down in Cambridge, then dropped off at a haulage depot in Glasgow.

(At this point I pleaded for someone to kindly shrink wrap it all to a pallet to avoid lost pieces in the next stages of its unexpected epic journey!) The next stage took longer than expected as winter set in but, many phone calls later, the loom (and an enormous pieces of off-cut carpet – but that is another story!) arrived with us negotiating the twists and slightly treacherous turns up the hill.

In pieces on the blue plywood floor of my newly designated loom space, a tangle of strings and knots with a beautifully photographed (on a beautiful pebble beach no less) original instruction manual that I had printed out.

And so I put it together. Mainly going with my gut, trial & error-ing reconnecting bits that were made for each other, referring  to the manual for the more complicated hanging of the jacks, harnesses, lams and treadles and re-using the old knotted system which to my delight was in full working order. (Over the months I have replaced some parts with fresh knots and string but the bulk of the structure remains, created by I wonder who (and what they made) so many decades ago.)

Very quickly I knew I wanted to make rugs. And I began to rack my brains for a way to use the raw fleece I had come by locally, without sending it away to a mill for very costly processing. As an experiment I tried using the wool in its raw state (aware of the old practice of peg loom rugs) and fell upon a technique and result I was surprisingly pleased with. And so I started practicing and making. A slow process.

A year later, I am happy enough with what I am making, its quality, provenance and purpose that I am keen to continue – this year I plan a seasonal collection based on the Celtic lunar festivals, solstices & equinoxes.  I shape and card the wool as I go, pulling and teasing the raw wool into a workable, usable weft as I go.

Last year I received my first commission from a Shetland sheep keeper up on the West Coast. The idea was to use the fleece from her pedigree flock to create a wall hanging. Cue a lovely visit and lunch to collect the fleece and a few months later, just in time for Christmas, I was able to deliver the final piece… Update! fast forward:  now complete you can see the result over on my Instagram @juliarebaudo.unspun – more soon!