This Ugly Bag or Catching Memories in the Stitches

When you see this bag, I can already see your facial reaction. It scrunches in puzzlement tinged with disgust, or vice versa. The combination is very wrong. I took a yarn with every neon color under the sun save purple, and what color do I decide to use for the strap...purple. Not even a neon purple, but a miraculous hue that is savory and tasteful. What streak of insanity could drive me to this extreme? I have my reasons (my main being the prevention of having said bag snatched) but it is not the appearance that I want to speak of here. I wish to talk about what this bag has captured within its  stitches. 

When we knit, it is not simply about fiber and needles, we are also keeping a journal of our creative phases. Some can pick up a brush and keep track of their souls on a canvas. Others choose pens and pages to record their words. I do possess some ability in these arenas, but I cannot do them consistently. I write my thoughts, but only when unique. I paint, but only after months of simmering and contemplation. I do not express myself in these realms until I consider what I have worthy of expressing. Knitting is different for me. It is a constant state of creativity where I create my own work using the foundations of someone else's idea. 

This bag particularly rings true since, although the pattern was generously gifted to me by a fellow raveler, the bag has become mine just by virtue of my hands creating it. The bag is mine because I cast it on DPNs rather than circular needles. The shape is unique because I had to decide the width of the base. The stitches are even because I knit most of the body while watching a rather ridiculous movie in Cape May with some of the best friends I have ever had. The strap is of my own invention, and it makes me giggle to think of the look on another of my dear friend's face when she said bluntly, "It is hideous, you know that right?" (she is such a gem!) 

The point I am trying to make is that the difference in every knitter's work is not in the tension, gauge, or overall technique. It is in how much of ourselves we are willing to poor into that particular entry of our fiber chronicles. 

Digging

So within the next month I am faced with completing the impossible task--organizing 18 years of acquired crap that has been stored in a rather large bedroom, and attempting to fit it in a very small shared space otherwise known as  dorm room. 

Currently, my room is...a mess. It's buried in yarn and pay stubs and school work from three months ago and books...so many books. And yarn, yes, yarn to the point where I can't even find my three skeins of beautiful wool and silk that I found in a discount bin in Cape May...where is all my stuff!? Oh yeah...under other stuff.

On a side note, whatever happened to SunnyD? I think it's one of those beverages that you're not allowed to consume after the age of thirteen...See, I'll never get my room clean, or organized, or packed into a much smaller room, because I'm such a procrastinator! This blog post is not about knitting at all...it's about avoiding the inevitable while blogging and watching What Not To Wear on TLC. I'm really really unbelievably thrilled to go to college...it's just such a pain to get there. And because of this, I'm not even knitting right now, except to avoid cleaning. Thus, this is my blog post.

Only Took a Little Water Weight

Finished the tam made out of that gorgeous alpaca I gushed over. Sadly, unlike the picture on the pattern, the tam had a weird little "point" at the back where it should have lain flat. I was rather disappointed, but it occurred to me that I might be able to block it out. With some coaxing, possibly a well placed prayer, I wet the middle, pushed it flat to the towel, and then I put a ten pound circular weight on top of it. Hoping that would be enough, I left it until earlier tonight. To my delight, the tam's rather elfin point had been thoroughly quashed and it now sits oh so nicely on my head. I am glad considering my sister wants one just like it in a delicious Peruvian Highland wool and I certainly would not want to disappoint her with a hat resembling something worn by one of Santa's "little helpers." A lovely piece that I am proud to say I knitted. 

Obsessions with Color and Texture

Seems pretty rudimentary doesn't it? Color and texture. Any artist would tell you that they love such things. For me, it is something that I never get bored with, and I never stop loving the way these two facts of art and knitting create the basis of my passion. There will never come a time when I will not look at the hat I am knitting now and not sigh over the pure breathlessness of the colors in its fibers. It is Handpainted Alpaca by the Painted Sheep (yes she does have an etsy shop and you cannot get better quality or color) and the colorway is Larkspur. Larkspur is a Mediterranean flower that is mainly light lavender but it does have some other colors intertwined into it. The Painted Sheep has created this unbelievable blend of lavender, mint, and silver. The saturation of the colors is unbelievable in its perfection. 

In the case of texture, you cannot beat the softness of this stuff. It is a blend of Alpaca and Merino. There are some soft fibers like silk and angora that, though I love them dearly, feel really slimy. It is just a fact. But alpaca is the softest stuff I have ever touched, and merino squishes like a thousand beautiful thoughts bound in your hands. Together, they create a fiber experience that is akin to knitting with butter. I have started making a hat with this stuff, and I can hardly put it down for love of its feel as it slides through my fingers as I knit or love on the stitches. 

I guess I love the comfort the texture and colors of this yarn give me. The colors are peaceful, but not in the cool range. This tinge of warmth in the lavender and mint is calming and welcoming while the silver feels like a vein of sophistication spread throughout. The texture is soothing and does not irritate like wool, but it has some grip unlike other soft fibers. I know it seems like I read too deeply into this, but I profess to be a person who knows herself. For me, every stitch with this yarn is God's small voice still saying, "I love you, see? I sent you this yarn as a tiny love note to remind you that I am there." It helps me now, and I pray one day, dear readers, you can find the same in something that you happen to love. God gives us little love notes, like flashes of faerie wings, if we know when and where to look.

On a less sappy note, has anyone ever considered that the word "bloggage" sounds like a side effect to a gastro intestinal disorder? Farewell lovelings!

Oh My Lace!!!!!

Ahhh lace, the art of making pretty holes. If only I could put them in the flipping right places!!!!! I have only been seriously knitting for about a year and a half (not so seriously since the 8th grade) and I desperately love every kind I have encountered thus far. I was the kind that went straight from scarves to socks with very little trouble; okay my gussets were atrocious, but who looks at the gusset? Anyway, I wanted to attempt a lace project and, being the naive and oh-so-attracted-to-nature-inspired-knits person that I am, I took the suggestion of other teenage knitters and chose a scarf pattern called Branching Out (courtesy of knitty.com). I casted on with no fear.....and soon found myself in a world of much grring and knashing of teeth. 

For those unfamiliar with lace, it is basically adding systematically placed yarn overs in and among your regular knits and purls. The problem is, unlike other kinds of knitting, if you do not have the correct stitch count by the end of the row, you cannot just go back in on the next row and create or annihilate the offending stitch. It destroys the pattern and will make your supposedly artfully placed holes look like, well, less than artfully placed holes. I am on edge for every row, carefully following the pattern, trying very hard not to expect the worst, and then hold my breath for every time I count the stitches, praying there will be the right amount.

So why soldier on with it? Even my dear co-blogger, after witnessing a rather nasty outburst on my part, said forcefully, "Just put it down!" As much as this frustrates me, I can't put it down. Nor can I keep myself from buying laceweight and oggling patterns of beautiful holes in such nice arrangements. I do not walk away from a challenge simply because I cannot surmount it within the first few repeats. What kind of knitter would that make me? I'll tell you what it would make me; a cheap yarn floozey who only sticks to awful pilly yarn and runs at the first sign of a yarn over. Not me, dear friends. I will not allow a little frustration and some creative curses (snark-ended guttersnipe being my favorite) keep me from my goal of a lovely artfully holy scarf. 

Too Many Projects

So, knitting blogs tend to require talk about knitting...so, (as I say so for the second time) it is time for me to complain about the amount of projects that I am working on.

I used to tease my friend Sam for knitting multiple projects at a time. I would knit one pair of socks, one scarf, one whatever, at a time, and thus would finish it quickly and be able to move onto the next thing. However, somewhere along the way I lost my Thoreau-ian simplicity--and now I'm stuck with a pair of socks I may never finish!

Okay, so there's the scarf. The beautiful, cloudy, smooshy, soft scarf. It's Veronik Avery's Lace Ribbon Scarf, knit up in this awesome Nature's Palette fingering weight that I found with KP and Sam in some yarn store in Wallingford (it's cool because it's grey at first glance, but it's really blue and pink and subtle and just downright pretty).

It's the kind of scarf that I have the romantic visions of wearing on a snowy night in college to some intellectual debate or lecture. I'd also be wearing a trenchcoat. Anyway, I'm half done, having knit most of it mindlessly to and from Cape May. 

Unfortunately, if that were it, it would be nice and relaxing. Then there's the Twisted Tulip Socks. Oh, are they beautiful. I'm knitting up this nice, warm purple Jitterbug yarn Sam gave me in a fudge tin for Christmas. She took the tin back though, to give someone else fudge. The pattern requires some intense cerebral knitting, but I enjoy tiny, intricate projects. Unfortunately, I only own one pair of wearable hand knit socks, as I have knit a dozen or so others as gifts for those I love. And, while I started the socks on a flight back from Bologna and Amsterdam (we're talking 10 hours, here), I have yet to finish more than one since April. I just want some damn socks.

SO, maybe the knee socks will help. Nope. I bought the yarn for (yes, more) Veronik Avery's Spiral Boot Kneesocks in December. More smooshy wonderfulness...smooshy wonderfulness that has been sitting unballed in my stash ever since. I'm almost done with the first leg of the first sock...however, with all the other crap I have to finish, as well as all that I have to start, like socks for Nate, and gloves for Don, and maybe a sweater someday, and some other stuff, like the Christmas list I should probably begin if I ever want to finish it on time, because, as we all know, I can't finish anything anymore, including these sentences, or this tediously long blog post...

Don't know how it happened, but here we are

So, apparently Heather and I are blogging now about our knitting. I have always avoided this because, quite honestly, why should anybody care? My life is pretty fantastic as far as knitting goes, but what should drive anyone to want to read about it? Oh well, I have stopped fighting the inevitable. Ravelry was the first step on my path to darkness, and this is where it ends. Do not be concerned dear readers, I am far from anxious about this little development. Maybe this will prove beneficial to someone. Between Heather and myself we are a pretty awesome writing pair (her being the actual writer and me being a poor cynic who just happens to be funny on occasion), so this should be an interesting ride for all. Continue on then? Sure, God must have had this in mind somewhere. Toodle pip! 

Joint KnitBlog

So, Sam has been suggesting for a very long time that KP and I should get ourselves a joint knitting blog. This is mostly due to the fact that our blog-evasive maneuvers to this point have involved having no time to blog. However, after our trip to Cape May, NJ, where KP and I very successfully spread the cult of knitters to 3 of our dear friends, I decided that it was time...My, the word "blog" certainly loses its meaning after 15 or so uses. Anyway, so here we are, KP and I, and we're going to blog about our knitting, if we have time in between life and actually knitting. Let's see how it goes, and if anyone actually reads our random spewed thoughts. Well, I can't speak for Kristen...okay, my randomly spewed thoughts, and Kristen's probably brilliant insight into life as related to yarn. Yes.