My studio was the third small bedroom in our house. It contained a desk, worktable, file cabinet, shelves, and small closet—all overflowed with fiber, yarns, books, and magazines. The 36-inch floor loom that my husband, Terry, had built occupied the center of the room. My traveling wheel, the one that went with me to so many SOARs (Spin Off Autumn Retreats), moved around the room, changing location depending on what I needed to access.
I jokingly told a fiber friend that the whole house was my studio, but it wasn’t much of a joke. Another loom lived in the family room; fiber books could be found in the kitchen next to the cookbooks; I stored a lidded basket full of fiber in the dining room; and fiber, yarn, and projects…
