Bookmark: Weaving Time and Wisdom: My Journey into Doubleweave

Lately, I've stumbled upon a weaving technique that feels like discovering a secret, ancient door to a whole new world of possibilities: Doubleweave. Now, if you're not familiar, Doubleweave sounds complex—and to be fair, at first glance, it is! You're essentially working with two layers of fabric at once, and you lift the bottom layer up to intersect with the top, creating beautiful patterns that seem to defy the laws of weaving. But once you fall into the rhythm, it's like a dance; suddenly, you're not just weaving fabric, you're weaving words, shapes, and anything your heart desires.

  

Of course, you need contrasting colors to make the magic happen—how else will that bottom layer pop through the top like a shy artist finally revealing their masterpiece?

  

So, naturally, I wanted to explore this technique more. And, as if the universe was sending me a little nod of encouragement, along came a customer with the perfect request: a custom bookmark. The timing couldn’t have been better. The customer wanted me to weave one of my all-time favorite passages from the Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám: "The moving finger writes; and having writ, moves on."

I mean, could there be a more perfect line to weave into something? Especially with International Mental Health Day just around the corner, this felt like more than just a project—it was a way to reflect on life's fleeting moments and, more importantly, accepting that what’s done is done. It’s like a poetic nudge to remind us that time, for better or worse, only moves forward.

  

Now, as someone who’s loved this passage since childhood, I was thrilled. I’ve always found it to be a beautifully simple yet impossibly difficult truth: once a moment is written, it’s written. No amount of regret, wit, or tears can bring it back. It's one of those lessons that seems so obvious, but when you’re actually faced with it in life... well, let’s just say, it’s easier said than done.

  

With the design in mind, I grabbed two yarns with strong contrast and set to work. There was something almost meditative about watching each letter take shape in the weave. Every lift of the bottom layer felt like a tiny reminder to move forward—both in weaving and in life.

  

And yes, there were moments where I had to undo my own "writings" when I missed a thread or mixed up a letter. Oh, the irony! But unlike life, I could go back and fix those mistakes on the loom (because let's be real, weaving does have its perks!).

  

After some time, the bookmark was complete—a small but mighty piece of woven wisdom. It was a joy to create, not just because of the challenge and the technique, but because of the deeper meaning that kept running through my mind with every thread: that time, like the moving finger, doesn’t stop for anyone. And you know what? That’s okay.

    

I hope whoever uses this bookmark finds not only a way to keep their page but also a little reminder that what’s done is done—and there’s beauty in moving forward.