Feral Knitter

Gone Again

Why, oh why, are my readers so damn smart? I dash off these posts, and invariably my sloppy phrasing, half-thought out sentences, and incorrect vocabulary are noted. Yes, the first sentence of my last post was wrong: I meant to say that I'd been talking to other people in my head.

It was bad enough to admit it in the first place. Now, I have to bring it up again...

I drove down to Berkeley earlier this week. After an easy, sunny drive through Washington and Oregon I was winding my way through the mountains outside Ashland when I turned a corner. Straight ahead in the far distance, huge and glowing in the twilight, was Mt Shasta, topped with a lenticular cloud and with an oddly shaped orange moon sitting on its flank. It took me a moment to realize that I was witnessing the start of the lunar eclipse. Spooky indeed. 

I spent the night in Ashland and was able to visit The Websters yarn store in the morning. What a delightful place! A yarn store plus gallery of incredible woven pieces, as well as spinning supplies and an extensive book collection. Well stocked with yarn for Fair Isle knitting, too. They won my heart when they allowed Shadow to come in--very friendly employees made shopping here a nice experience. I was surprised, however, to be greeted by name: Carol (rogueknitter) knew me from Ravelry! I heart Ravelry (and Carol, too).

On my way over Siskiyou Pass I was greeted with snow, a lovely sight for many miles until it turned to rain. The rest of the trip was uneventful, and I was happy to turn the key in our door.

I'm knitting a shawl from Evelyn Clark's Knitting Lace Triangles book out of a beautiful silk/merino handdyed yarn from Plucky Knitter while I try to decide what colorwork project to start next.

Tomorrow I'll be working at the Tactile Fiber Arts booth at Stitches. Say hi if you see me!

Hopped Up on Madrona

This is not good. I've been talking to myself all day, and the first rule of mental health is to not have conversations with people who are not in the room. But the Madrona Fiber Arts Retreat was so much fun, so energizing, so involving that I can't seem to calm down! Or maybe I just can't let go of the experience.

Madrona was much bigger this year, 540 people, not to mention those who came just for the market. Hotel Murano was undergoing renovations designed to connect it thematically to the Museum of Glass down the street--each floor had a display about a different glass artist (my floor's artist, Cobi Cockburn, pulled textures from fiber into her glasswork--but the artist on a friend's floor worked with downright creepy faces appearing out of sand...). Mt Rainier was visible in the early morning, before fog and low clouds crept in again.

I took a 2-day workshop with Kathryn Alexander, a spinner, weaver, knitter, and designer who has been exploring the possibilities inherent in the natural biasing of energized singles (and yes, I think we covered just about every possible joke inherent in the subject title). I first heard of her through one of my favorite books, Melanie Falick's Knitting in America (reissued in paperback with a different title and cover, America Knits--and whoever made THAT decision should be firmly escorted out the door, by the way). Kathryn has also written a number of articles for Spin-Off magazine. I got the impression that she would be a fun person to study with, creative and curious. My impression was correct! We explored a number of different stitch patterns and shapes with freshly spun, energized yarns that resulted in the most interesting textures and curves. The workshop was a lot of fun--we had to let go of the need to know exactly what to do or what would happen, and just find out by doing. I loved both the quiet, textural quality of natural sheep colors, which gave an almost Japanese, wabi-sabi feel to the fabric, and the more exuberant pieced-color work. I purchased one of her entrelac hat kits because the process of dyeing yarns while keeping them energized sounded so involved that I knew I was unlikely to do it myself--but the kit is packaged so attractively I might never knit it up!

On Friday night, Lucy Neatby gave a talk about her designs--her background and her sources of inspiration. I have admired her for some time as an excellent designer and technician--her DVDs are reputed to be excellent, although I haven't yet viewed one--and her spirit just shines through everything she does.

Saturday night's banquet speaker was Judith MacKenzie McCuin, who needs no introduction. She spoke about bison: the natural history of bison, their role in Native American life, and their reintroduction from near-total disappearance in the United States. Her experiences working on bison ranches were particularly entertaining (and instructive!--if you see a bison's tail point up, it's already too late, for example). She also talked about the use of the bison down to make yarn, luxurious, soft, warm yarn. I am always impressed by the depth and breadth of her knowledge, the understanding about how an animal's biology affects its fleece or hair production, for example.

On Saturday and Sunday, I taught two sessions of my class on color. This is such a big topic, and I struggle every time about how to structure the class to communicate the core issues of color use in Fair Isle-type stranded knitting while encouraging a playful, fearless, and disciplined approach that can produce something spectacular. (Jessica described the class as "the first 6 hours of a lifetime of study," and I think that is exactly right.) We had an overwhelming selection of colors to work with: every Jamieson & Smith, Jamieson, and Elemental Affect color was represented. Here is one student's lovely selection:

Speaking of Elemental Affects, take a look at the range of colors Jeanne de Coster is offering now in her line of Montana-bred Shetland yarns:

 

But Madrona is more than the classes and talks--I treasure meeting some of the people who have been my "imaginary friends." Acornbud Barbara (knitter of some wonderful Totoros) brought me the sweetest box of stitch markers she'd made, and several Ravelry avatars came to life (K2Karen, Geminigirl, Spring, I'm sure others, but I'm blanking out right now). On Saturday a casual reunion of people who had taken my classes took place during lunch, so I got to reconnect with students to see what they had been working on--a real blessing for a teacher to see how people take their class experience in new directions. When I first began taking classes, the teachers seemed so above me, impressive in their knowledge and too busy for a mere mortal. But that's not the case, at least at Madrona, and I have enjoyed getting to know many of them better over coffee or drinks or a sandwich at the sub shop (thanks, Stephanie!).

Being able to meet with other passionate people is invaluable. I'm lucky to live in an area with so many opportunities, but a knitter can create a supportive community just about anywhere, from the borderless world of blogging and Ravelry to the intimate local guild or knit-together. Enjoy every bit of it!

P.S. All weekend I was telling people about this great book about Persian carpets I was reading, happily refering to it by several different and incorrect titles. Apparently I cannot be trusted. The book is really called The Root of Wild Madder, by Brian Murphy. Apologies to anyone who has been looking for the false title I gave you.

Time's A Wasting

You know how sometimes you look back on a time in your life and you ask yourself "what was up with THAT?"

In trying to reconstruct the course of my life since my last post, I came to the disheartening realization that I had spent the majority of my time (A) playing Spider, (B) obsessively reading blogs about Project Runway (my favorite is Project Rungay--you can spend an amazing amount of your alloted days on Earth reading the archives), (C) watching Project Runway, and (D) sorting through my 8 boxes of Shetland yarn to prepare for the upcoming Madrona Fiber Arts Retreat in Tacoma, Washington.*

Confession: I just love playing with my collection of Shetland yarns, and any excuse will do! My professed aim was to remove all the discontinued Jamieson & Smith colors from the boxes so my students would not fall in love with a certain combination, only to learn that the color was no longer available (actually, most colors are still available here and there, but still.....).

My stash of discontinued shades is the size of an adult human torso:

I'm planning another afghan because the Parcheesi Afghan is such a good size and weight.

Parcheesi Afghan

I also decided to knit another Cascade Cap (a pattern I give out in my workshops) from my discontinued colors pile:

I had found a photo of Alaskan tundra that called to me. The final cap is subdued and doesn't quite capture the look I wanted (although it is much, much livelier than the photo would indicate), but I enjoyed just jumping into it--no need to make a masterpiece or commit months of effort.

While endulging in my intellectually demanding reality TV schedule, I have neglected to thank Carla for giving me this:

I appreciate this so much more than my lack of timely acknowledgment would imply! I am always encouraged to know that people are reading this. As usual, I am having trouble deciding who to pass this recognition along to (to whom to pass this along?). Bloggers make my life so much larger than it was--it is hard indeed to narrow down from my 153 Bloglined companions.... 

*Wouldn't you know it. I went to these sites to capture the URLs and I wound up spending half an hour there before tearing myself away.

Poetry for a Winter's Day

Settling

I was welcomed here―clear gold

of late summer, of opening autumn,

the dawn eagle sunning himself on the highest tree,

the mountain revealing herself unclouded, her snow

tinted apricot as she looked west,

tolerant, in her steadfastness, of the restless sun

Forever rising and setting.

                                    Now I am given

a taste of the grey foretold by all and sundry,

a grey both heavy and chill. I’ve boasted I would not care,

I’m London-born. And I won’t. I’ll dig in,

into my days, having come here to live, not to visit.

Grey is the price

of neighboring with eagles, of knowing

a mountain’s vast presence, seen or unseen.

Denise Levertov

In Evening Train

Armenian Acorn Hat

My Armenian Acorn Hat

and the inside:

Project details:

Basic pattern from Armenian Knitting by Meg Swansen and Joyce Williams
Acorn motif from The Tap-Dancing Lizard by Catherine Cartwright-Jones
Yarn: Jamieson & Smith Shetland Jumperweight, colors 83 dark green and FC24 light sage.
Amount: The hat weighs 1.25 ounces!

I found that I enjoyed this technique and I really like the feel of the fabric that results. My gauge is 5.5 stitches per inch, as opposed to the 7 stitches per inch I normally achieve in stranded knitting. Much thanks to the readers who offered suggestions about how to hold both colors in the left hand--I tried your modifications and they helped quite a bit. However, I reverted to what was immediately easiest--one color in each hand. Expediency won out over increased competence!

Unrelated note:

If you are a member of the Seattle Knitter's Guild, Mary B (our president) has started a Ravelry group. Head on over and sign up!