Feral Knitter

Friday Odds and Ends

OK, you steek fanatics, grab hold of your patience and put those refresh buttons on ice--it'll take me a few days to put something together on this intriguing subject!

The Curry Sweater has begun. Here's the start of the hem and an example of the way I chart patterns and colors.

I use Stitch Painter these days. I started out creating tables in Word and using an x to mark the stitches, so not having a fancy program is no excuse if you want to make your own designs! Many people like to chart with Excel. I don't indicate colors within the graph--I find I have an easier time with a simple black and white graph. I list the colors alongside the graph, at the spot where I would naturally make a decision about which color to pick up. The black squares are the color I hold in my left; the blank square are the ones held in my right. It can be hard to think of a chart this way--we are so used to thinking in terms of black square equals dark color, so I have trained myself to think of black as left, white as right. You have to evaulate your own knitting to determine which hand should hold the pattern yarn and which should hold the background colors. A subject in itself!

I got Marcia Lewandowski's new book, Andean Folk Knits. The author lived in Bolivia for a number of years and became fascinated by the knitting of the South American highlands, especially the bags. The book has some wonderful pictures and interesting charts. On the disappointing side: I would have enjoyed more discussion of Andean hats, and the patterns are presented without discriminating between indigenous forms and modern American patterns with added Andean design elements (for example, Elizabeth Zimmermann's jogging mittens are presented without attribution; the only change being the addition of a few pattern bands). I'm enough of a scholar to want more information. All in all, though, a good book that clearly conveys the author's love of the region.

Yesterday I joined Nathania and other Bay Area knitters at her new store, Commuknity, helping to fill shelves and baskets with colorful yarns in preparation for the grand opening today. They've all been working very hard indeed--it's not an easy job, setting up and running a yarn store! It was a pleasure to meet Sharlene in person!

Finally, I urge you to visit Ryan's Mossy Cottage for some moving pictures about the intended recipients of the Dulaan Project items. (A conspiracy theorist might say that, of course, photos can easily be doctored. Scam, indeed. Some people create their own hells, that's all I've got to say about that. Well, probably not all.)

Have a good weekend, everyone!

A Nice Day

I met up with Becca and Rachael at the local coffee shop yesterday, for a chance to visit over our knitting.

I won't out their knitting (one a present, one doubtless to appear on the appropriate blog in due time), but I'm happy to show off my hiking socks knit from my very own handspun!

My 16-year-old daughter is proud of me. Why? Because I went out last night to something that didn't involve fiber! Unquote. My old friend Fred and I went to see Rory Block, an amazing blues guitarist and singer, at the Freight & Salvage in Berkeley. It was a joy to spend time with Fred, who I met 30 years ago (is that right? I guess so) when I was a lowly TA at the University of Washington and he a newly minted freshman. And it was a joy to hear Rory Block, whose interpretations of blues classics are moving, but not nearly as moving as her own compositions. Just part of the chance to witness vulnerability and creativity. If you have a chance to see her in concert, do it!

Tomorrow I'm off to visit Nathania's new store: Commuknity in unknown territory: San Jose. Thank goodness for MapQuest, that's all I can say.

I've been asked a few questions about steeks recently. Is anyone interested in an extended disquisition on the subject? Let me know.

Inspiration

Do you remember that a few weeks ago I wrote about the strange and unsettled feeling I had as I contemplated allowing my fiber explorations to take the lead and go where they wanted? I've been trying to let go of my self-protective limits, and look what happens:

Crochet!

For some reason I've been obsessed with trying out crochet; thus, 2.75 hats. I like the way crochet lends itself to improvisation. I don't know where this will lead--I'm trying not to have any concern about that sort of thing.

Perhaps by recognizing my "circle the wagons" instinctual responses and making an effort to set them aside as no longer needed baggage, the myriad sources of inspiration that have always been there are now clamoring to be heard.

The documentary "Rivers and Tides," which features the work of Andy Goldsworthy, was incredible beyond words. In fact, the artist himself says at various times that he does not have the words to explain the emotions his art reveals. It is difficult to define Andy Goldsworthy--he is a serious modern artist whose work calls out a nearly religious response to the world. He uses elements of nature to create permanent or ephemeral works tied to a place. Several of his pieces documented in the film involve circles. I so loved some of them that, well, I had to wonder what deep Jungian stuff was involved. And then I noticed the relationship of his pieces to the painting of the inside of a Mongolian ger that hangs above my desk:

One comment he made stuck with me: "Total control can be the death of the work."

My friend from high school, Anna Tambour, has just had her second book of fiction published: Spotted Lily. Her first, Monterra's Deliciosa, a collection of short stories, was a wonder to me. Anna seems to capture the same deep and mysterious connections that Andy Goldsworthy does. Her marvelous story "Klokwerk's Heart" is available on line--go take a look. Anna now lives in the bush in Australia--I don't get to see her often, but when I opened the package and saw Spotted Lily, a rush of memories brought back the years of confusion and lack of self-confidence that characterized our younger years. Anna's talent was obvious even then, but it took time to add the, what?, courage? confidence? seasoning?

I've been entranced by Sara Lamb's blog: Woven Thoughts. Sara is, primarily, a weaver who explores any number of spinning, dyeing, and weaving techniques. Her work seems to be characterized by the joy of trying something new, and "listening" to her as she works has been very freeing.

And, of course, Stephanie Pearl-McPhee (do I need to add the parenthetical epithet The Yarn Harlot here?) has written a loving and funny book of meditations for knitters who knit too much. Stephanie herself is an inspiration for someone (let's say, for example, me) who holds back, who's first instinctive response is "no."

I guess I'll close this meditation with a quote from the incredible, expansive poet Mary Oliver, another source of inspiration, from the introduction to her book Long Life:

That's the big question, the one the world throws at you every morning. "Here you are, alive. Would you like to make a comment?"

Banding Together

A side conversation with Anne (a prolific and talented Fair Isle knitter--see some examples of her work on Ideaphoria) led me to the realization that what people want is fewer digressions and more talk about stranded knitting minutiae. Well, she didn't exactly say that. And she isn't the only one to write me privately about some aspect of stranded colorwork.

At any rate, it's time to get back to my roots. (Speaking of roots and digressions, I've been letting my hair grow out to see what it looks like gray. My hairdresser in Seattle would say, "Why on earth would you do that?" I don't know, really. I'm just curious. I've met some really great looking women with wonderful gray hair recently. Why I think I'd be one of them I don't know.) Let's talk about adding two-color bands--button bands, neck bands, armhole bands--to stranded bodies.

Disclaimer: I must tell you that a quick review of all the stranded projects I've completed over the years would reveal that I have designed only one garment that used a stranded band of any type. And the three sweaters I'm starting now follow the same theme. This leads to rule 1 (and you KNOW how I love lists of rules!) about bands:

1. You can avoid using two-color stranded bands on your garments:

a.* Use I-cord instead. Please note that one row of I-cord is usually not enough to stop the rolling stocking stitch is known for on longer stretches of fabric. You can build several rows of I-cord, which will do the trick. Or add a hem behind the I-cord.

  I-cord band

Hem behind I-cord band

On shorter lengths, say, the neckline, knitting-up-and-binding-off a row where the I-cord meets the fabric (or even easier and looks just the same: crochet) will take care of any gymnastics. Plus this looks great.

I-cord (maroon) with crochet (mauve)

b. Use Meg Swansen's Purl When You Can method (yes, even on the vertical button band). Briefly, Meg introduces purl stitches when a color appears above itself--thereby effectively creating a corrugated rib without the disturbing regimentation. Meg expands on this method in several of her Wool Gathering newsletters; I recommend the Giant Latvian Cardigan issue (#67), which introduces the idea of the vertical PWYC border. I plan to use this technique in my Mudcloth Vest. Disadvantage? Sometimes it's nice to add a different color to the border, and you can't when you build the borders into the body.

c. Use plain ribbing or garter stitch or seed stitch. The arguments against plain ribbing correctly note that the borders will not be a substantial as the body of the garment. Also, plain ribbing became a design element on machine-knit sweaters in the 1950s--so many people prefer to make sure that their work is obviously the product of skilled hands by using a patterned border. Even so, I love plain ribbing (which can be multi-colored, by the way)! Turtlenecks and turned-up cuffs give some additional substance to a plain border; double-knitting can do the same thing. I'm plotting a double-knit shawl collar for the Curry Sweater.

Garter border

Multi-color rib

d. Plan a garment that doesn't need borders. Think Jumper/Pullover/Sweater. Think turtleneck or shawl collar. This is, of course, quite limiting, especially for those of us entering the Personal Portable Self-Heater period of life.

Ribbed neck

e. You can add facings rather than bands. This can be a bit tricky at necklines and armholes, but not impossible.

2. You can add two-color bands.

a. You can use standard corrugated rib. Knit 2 in color A, purl 2 in color B. Use whatever color progressions you'd like. These can add greatly to the garment's overall effect, they lie flat, they have body.

b. You can use any stranded pattern in stocking stitch and add a backing to keep it from rolling.

Wow--I don't have much to say about the points under Rule #2.

Most people who attempt to avoid patterned bands are trying to avoid purling in color pattern. But you can add steeks to bands and knit them in the round!

You can run but you cannot hide

So let's talk about the problems inherent in adding any type of band. The goal is bands that lie flat, don't droop or flare out, that complement the design, that add stability to the garment. First and foremost: you MUST know your stitch and row gauge! Whether two-color stranded extravaganzas or the simplest single-color garter stitch, you've got to (repeat after me) know your stitch and row gauge for every knitting technique you plan to put into play. I-cord, garter, rib, corrugated rib, flat stranded colorwork, single-color stocking stitch.

Because the name of the game is the relationship between what you've knit and what you're adding on to it.

We're talking math, dearie. And that's what most people are really trying to avoid when they talk about bands.

Even if you are following a pattern line by line and the designer tells you to pick up X number of stitches along the front edge, you really need to take a close look at your knitting. Trust No One!

More things to worry about:

A firmly knit pattern with diagonal elements will have a nearly even stitch/row relationship, defying your assumptions of 7 stitches/5 rows (or whatever your stocking stitch experience has been).

The relationship between number of body stitches and number of band stitches changes when on an angle. You might be picking up, say, 7 stitches for every 8 body stitches on the straightaway, but you'll need to pick up 8 for 8 on the V-neck angle. Meg Swansen walks through the issues of adding a band to a V-neck on her excellent video A Fair-Isle Vest.

If you have chosen to add a corrugated button band, the two halves of the band must line up when you close the cardigan. Many designers have you pick up in color pattern--trying to track picking up X number of stitches over Y number of rows while keeping the colors in the right spots can get pretty dicey, especially if you are going up one side and down the other. You might want to graph out what you plan to do.

And oh-my-God! BUTTONHOLES in patterned bands! That's a topic for another discussion. Suffice it to say that these are more easily avoided than bands themselves.

Life-Saving Tip

In the body of your garment (I suggest along the side somewhere) knit up about 40 stitches in the manner you plan to use (and that's another subject). Now practice your chosen band. Does it pucker along the pick up line? Does it lie flat? Do you like the colors? If this one doesn't work out, try a different band swatch. Really, a half hour spent now can save you days of work. And you know how it goes: you've put in a week knitting up these g-d'd bands and they look awful. You know it, but you can't bring yourself to rip and start again. So the sweater sits in the closet. For years. Don't let this be your fate!

Well, I don't know how well-organized or coherent the above entry is, but I've gotta go now. Let me know what your experience with bands has been, OK?

* And look! I get to use two-level lists this time! Oh, the joy.

Whoosh...Time Passing By

I don't know what happened. I'm just going along day by day, accumulating thoughts and experiences like mad, making mental notes to mention X, Y, or Z on the blog, when I suddenly realize that I haven't actually written anything for ages. My imagined life is so very pleasant--in it, I do wonderful things and write so beautifully about them that you all laugh and cry (as appropriate) and wish, sadly, that you were me. In my real life, well, I bumble along and generally do OK, and the things I do actually remember to write about sound a bit like the letters I used to write home from camp when I was a kid. That said, let's see what I can dredge up:

The Curry Swatch in Green

The talented Susanna pointed out that the colors of the two photos I took of the Curry Swatch were so different that it was hard to believe they were the same swatch. Yes, indeed. The first photo taken in natural and strong sunlight, the second in the dimness of our living room against an oak coffee table with a flash. I guess I don't need to tell you all that I have really tried not to be obsessive about blog perfection--I don't pre-write or edit much, I snap photos without reading the instruction manual. It's pretty obvious. But Susanna was right, so here is a photo of the revised swatch under the same lighting conditions as the first photo so you can really see the difference.

Marti pointed out, correctly, that both colorway ideas worked and the important thing was what I intended them for. Correctomundo! J is pretty low key, so I think the Jamieson's Mustard, which sort of flows with the color progression, is the right choice for a sweater for him. The greens are growing on me, however (wasn't that one of the swatch rules: Give it time and distance?), and if I were planning this for myself I'd explore them a little more because they do add some "punch."

Anna asked about the feel of Shetland yarn, noting that it feels a bit "crunchy/itchy" in the hank. Shetland softens up considerably upon being washed, and we enjoy our Shetland afghan for cuddling in, for example, but it remains a bit too prickly for me to wear it against my skin without a cotton turtleneck underneath. I know that many people don't mind wearing Shetland sweaters over bare skin, so I'm being a bit princess-and-the-pea about it. Meg Swansen once noted that she doesn't mind Shetland against her skin when she is cool, but can find it uncomfortable when she is warm. Shetland certainly will never be as soft as a fine merino or cashmere--it is, quite literally, a different breed!

Deep Color

I've been enjoying my working days at Deep Color. I've had opportunities to learn to set up and maintain an indigo pot; to overdye madder and fustic with indigo, to overdye indigo with madder, logwood, or osage orange; to prepare cochineal extract; to mix other color extracts. In addition to the regular enjoyment of pulling the painted rovings and yarns from the dyepot to be washed and rinsed and hung in a colorful array on the clothesline. I will admit that I had not planned to get involved with natural dyeing, but Claudia (artist and owner of Deep Color) has changed my mind--these colors are special, no two ways about it!

Spinning at Sylvia's

On Tuesday, Rachael and I went over to Sylvia's home to get some more spinning advice. What a special day--lots and lots of laughter and inspiration. Rachael did a wonderful job of telling about it, so I'll just add a few photos:

Rachael, looking rather manic (she WAS excited about it all, but I assure you that she was not looking like this most of the time) as her wheel spins like mad

Marj, showing her fantastic spindling skills

Sylvia, showing her fine "froghair" spinning! I hope that she will forgive me for this unflattering photo--someday I will learn to take more than a single photo of any given person, I promise.

Basking

Oh my--Anna asked if I was tired of people saying "beautiful" yet. Hell, no! Thanks, everyone, for the positive feedback on the Curry Swatch. Beth S. noted that, because I wasn't excited about the mustard yellow, I might consider replacing the it with something tending toward the pistascio green shades, as seen in the curry spice pictures. I, too, wondered about using something along those lines to perk up the colors and had pulled several balls of such colors out for testing. In real life, these are all lovely chartreuse-y or cool slightly greened yellows, not the grotesque simulacrum of color you see below:

When I want to check out the effect of changing a single color in a swatch, I don't re-knit the entire thing, I just use duplicate stitch. In this case, I tried four different shades--if any one of them had seemed right, I would have done the entire row over in that color to get a true picture of its effect. None of these, however, seemed right to me after all, so I've decided to stick with the original mustard yellow. You never know until you try!

Irene wondered about the yarn and color numbers I'm using. They are mostly Jamieson & Smith yarns. The pattern brown is #5 Shetland black. The colors are 9097 Old Rose, FC38 rust, FC8 bittersweet, and 32 fall oak. The mustard is a Jamieson's Spindrift, #425.

Other bits of news

Karen Campbell posted a picture of Anne's Mossbank jumper with Shaped Shoulders in the Round! I am so pleased when I hear that someone has used my technique.

A while back I posted about the Magic Mongolian Mittens project that Susan and Sue had started to support the Lotus Children's Centre in Ulaan Baatar (I am totally intrigued by the double-A's in this name, but I can never seem to remember where they belong....). Sue let me know that their first shipment arrived safely--check out the wonderful photos. Seeing those happy faces makes me want to re-double my efforts for the Dulaan Project.

Curry Curry What's Your Worry

Well, having stated publicly that it was going to take me forever to settle on colors for the Curry Sweater, right after swatching the Mudcloth Vest, I immediately finished a Curry Sweater swatch that J loved.

Again, in the photo the red is coming out on the pinkish side--it's really more of a shade of madder. The other colors are less tan and more heathered orange. Look at how bright the mustard seems in the ball and how it is barely noticeable in the swatch as a single row in the center. It's slightly more obvious in person in sunlight, but barely there inside. I'm not sure about fussing with it, though--J is pretty low key sartorially speaking. This is probably just right. So I am now plotting the hem. Corrugated ribbing? Extension of the pattern? And I'm also charting a design of small acorns to run up the side "seams." J is fascinated by acorns, which play an important role in the survival of the Ohlone tribes who populated this area before settlers from Europe and the US moved in. Whenever J falls behind, we are sure to find him bent over examining the different acorns that have landed on the ground.

The joy of being a feral knitter is that your garments can be very personal, incorporating colors and symbols that have meaning perhaps only to you. These little secrets give me a great deal of pleasure!

You might have noticed that I didn't start a brand new swatch, by the way--I just took the first one I tried, knit a few rows in garter stitch in the pattern color, and started the new one. This saves more time than you'd think--I for one find that the first inch or so of knitting is a bit more difficult that subsequent rows. Perhaps the weight of the fabric helps stabilize the work? At any rate, if you struggle at first with your stranded knitting, hang in there--I find it gets easier.

Gingko's friend is visiting from Seattle, so we're off to Alcatraz!

Mudcloth Vest

Vanessa asked what colors I was thinking of for the Mali Mudcloth Vest--here's my answer:

You will notice that I didn't swatch the full design. I figured I could learn what I needed to know from these 32 stitches. I wanted to check out the border design (I've revised it since the chart I published to make it bolder and in more contrast to the repetitive design) and I wanted to see if the wonky X worked at all. I already know my gauge with this yarn and these needles, so this isn't a gauge swatch. And I'm impatient--I tend to plunge in without fully swatching anything.

It's a lot of fun to read about the textile traditions of other cultures, but I don't like to translate them directly into my knitting. Creating mudcloth is an elaborate procedure, involving fermented mud, base color dyeing using plant materials, painting the designs (which have symbolic meanings), repeated dippings into the dye vats, and removal of the base color by bleaching. This academic article has a host of details: http://www.up.ac.za/academic/acadorgs/saafecs/vol31/toerien.pdf

As a result, the cloth reflects the landscape in a very literal sense.

But it's not my landscape or my heritage, so I pay homage by adapting rather than attempting to copy.

Plus, I look really bad in natural browns.

In the comments, Karen noted that Lily Chin had also used mud cloth to inspire a textured design (Mali Mudcloth, Knitter's Magazine #36, Fall 1994). In fact, four designs in this issue used mudcloth as their inspiration. Feral knitters can use their library cards to explore the fascinating world of textiles; it stuns me to read about the verious ways people clothe themselves. In the modern, Western world we are, in general, pretty well removed from the process--but this is a relatively recent phenomenon.

But the real reason I wanted to plunge into this project is that my other brainstorms will require too much patience, taking the long view, and musings on process versus project. In other words, I just know that I'll be revising my original ideas many times before the Curry Sweater and the Shades of Green Princess-line Jacket become WIPs. Right now they exist as piles of yarn in my chair-side basket and dreams in my head.

Maybe it's Daylight Savings Time, though, because I'm feeling like a real restless knitter. I've started a bunch of new projects recently and my "current knitting basket" is at the stage where the yarns and needles are tangling up and screeching for attention like children on Nanny 911. Luckily, my horoscope this morning promises that the eclipse will bring in a new a better period in my life! Does this mean I will settle down and finish something? Or does it mean that I will purchase more fiber and more yarn and more dyeing stuff and make an even bigger mess? O celestial bodies, can I do both, please?

Devastated

I want you all to know that Rachael has ruined my life. I can never forgive her.*

* I joking of course. Jeeez.

Brainstorm

I've been obsessed with the idea of translating the vibrant bogolanfini (mudcloth) designs of Mali (in Africa) into knitting (this link shows a few examples). These quirky fabric pieces caught my imagination while I was perusing the wonderful book African Textiles by John Gillow. I don't ask why I get these brainstorms, I just flow with them.

Unfortunately, the thing that I love to bits about mud cloth designs is their lack of symmetry--these dye artists are not trying to create the perfect, balanced piece. And this is not easy to translate into stranded color knitting designs.

I'm plotting a vest that uses Meg Swansen's "Purl When You Can" hem and front cardigan edge (see her Giant Latvian Cardigan issue of Wool Gathering for more details). Here's my third attempt:

I've tried to balance some regular repeating elements with some more freeform designs. This part of designing is a lot of fun and can go on for months! Who knows where this will take me?

Yesterday I drove out to Lafayette to meet the talented Lisa Souza of Lisa Sousa Dyeworks & Knitwear for lunch and a chance to see her dyed yarns and rovings. It was a real treat! The talent and good spirits of the Bay Area fiberistas is inspirational. Lisa has just launched a blog: Tilt-a-Whirl. Check it out!