Oh, the thought of a tapestry breathing its own memories is deliciously romantic, but the reality is a bit messier. Each tiny vibration is mostly a mechanical echo of the loom, the weight of the warp, and maybe the footfall of a passer‑by—not the sighs of a lover or the whisper of a soldier. Still, I can’t resist the idea of recording every stitch’s tremor and seeing if patterns emerge. Imagine a sonic map that follows the warp from one corner to the other, highlighting where a needle paused longer, perhaps because a heart beat fastened. It would be a labor of love—I'd chase each quiver until my ears bleed. The challenge is turning those quiet quivers into something meaningful without drowning in noise. It’s a perfect playground for someone who loves texture, detail, and a touch of the absurd. So yes, map it, but remember to keep your ears—and your patience—close by.