The love that is mine 

A Rose viscose warp
Designed and dyed by Paradisaea
Fall / Winter 2017-2018

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2 am
your voice hauling me up
from the mists that they call sleep,
I fumble towards you
only half awake.

Two hours later I surface again,
you sleeping soundly with your cheek pressed to my chest,
a chest that happens to lie half in my bed, half in yours

slightly uncomfortable but
I don’t dare to move; don’t want to -
I would give worlds for moments like this.

Later I realise
that’s exactly what I need to do.

I used to think I would be Something. Someone. Capital S.
I used to think it would be important;
that I couldn’t rest until I had landed there, Somewhere;
the elusive Somewhere I had no idea of
but where everyone seemed to be hurrying

like life would only be enough when we all arrived there.

Then you
started arriving.
First the boys, the one with the irresistible swirl of hair on his forehead,
then the one with eyes as big as full moon, shining like waters under strange stars.

Then you.
You who are
a perfect little parcel of sunlight
more than I could have ever asked.

And suddenly
I lost my maps
to Somewhere. They went blank.
I erased them,
painted over them

I literally gave up worlds
for you.

Closed doors. Gave away tickets. Turned on my heels.
Paused. Stopped. Was forced to stop.
Was forced to give up on
Somewhere.

And I’ve never been happier
than in this little world of ours,
tucked here in the middle of what is important,
tucked in the middle of

your excited cooing
in the morning
when you wake up
to see
my
face

// K.V.

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The Big Loom is also soon in need of a new project. I'd love to therefore introduce a new colourway, called “The Love That Is Mine”.

It's about love. About the thought that love should be what defines us.

To explain why, I’d like to share a few thoughts.

They say the human brain is very limited. We can only really concentrate on a few things at a time.
But, the things we do concentrate on - they set the pace of our lives.

What I’m thinking about here is based partly on my own experiences from the few past years. These years have been a time of transition in our family; we’ve gone from two to five persons, we’ve found a home, we’ve somehow settled. Many good things have happened.
And some not so good things.

When you’re young, you think life will obey you. That you will eventually get what you want and get where you want to get. You feel indestructible - or, at least you should feel. But life has a tendency to catch up on us, showing a very different face than we’ve imagined it has. I wonder if it happens to everybody? Maybe not - but I am guessing that it’s true for many of us.

Something happens that shakes your branch, so to say. Something that shows us that life is more unpredictable than we thought. For me it was both my parents getting seriously ill, only two years apart. Listening to others around me I’ve heard many similar tales, and even harder ones. It could be anything that forces you to stop on your tracks, forces you to question your understanding of life.

My parents’ stories are continuing well; we’re eternally thankful for that. But the experience pushed me into years of soul searching. I became a mother around the same time. Combined, these two things turned my internal world pretty much upside down. There was something a lot... holier, deeper and more serious in all of it than I had ever faced.

I had, like many others, defined myself mostly trough the things that I do. The things that I achieve. I had based my identity largely on my ability “to get things sorted out”, to make life happen. Facing things I had no control over frightened me; forcing me to question whether in my eagerness to achieve stuff I was running past something much more important.

Love.

So, my question has been: what if I really, truly concentrated on love? What if that was the one thing that fits in my brain; my one goal, my defining factor?

I’ve felt this strong need to just return there. To the love that is mine. It's all too easy to walk past it. But it's there, and it's strong, the strongest branch there is to sit on.

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In the end our identity can only be based on the people who love us. On the fact that I am loved. By the ones that matter. I personally add God here too. The ones who’ve promised to stay. Love might be the only force in the world that really, profoundly has the ability to change things; to heal and to restore.

The beauty of being a mother is that love always is here; in the tiny sweaty hands that reach out for us in the dead of the night.

What if that was
what defines
me?

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