Studio Notes

Suddenly, the urge to journal is back, as if it had never left me.  Although I have two perfectly good journals in progress, I tore into the idea of altering a beautiful weekly calendar, Nesting 2009.

Calendars and I do not get along well. I don’t live a measured life.  Some days are long, others are too long, and then there are the days that leave me breathless as I put on my highest heels, dress in my Queen of the Universe suit (a smart black trouser suit with a long-ish jacket, just in case you were wondering), and MAKE THINGS HAPPEN.

The idea of altering a calendar, using it in a non-linear way, and possible even ripping out entire weeks at a time, fascinates me greatly. So, the manifesto of this journal isn’t at the beginning. It’s somewhere in the middle. The next page may fall before it, or after.  It doesn’t matter. I control my own destiny, and am not a slave to time.

I don’t even wear a watch.

How do you feel about time? How does it influence your art journal?

I’m not sure how so much knitting, spinning and weaving sneaked into this studio blog. There’s a place for everything, and this content has a new home.

tromp as writ is my new blog for all things weaving and fiber arts. When I’m back in my art studio, I’ll post more studio notes here.

Who doesn’t daydream about having the perfect studio? Mine would be a large, sun-filled room with one area for weaving, another for sewing, a comfortable sitting area for spinning, knitting and relaxing, and finally an adjoining dye room. Since this is my sanctuary, of course there would be candles, goddess shrines, green plants, and a purring cat.

My snug little Aerie doesn’t have space for a dye room, so that part of the dream will have to wait until I move house again. I had a magnificent sewing studio when I was a costumer, and it can be unpacked again when space permits. RIght now, my focus is on spinning, knitting and weaving.

I already had the large room, so what was my problem? My loom was pushed up against the wall in the darkest corner of the room. When I wove, my view was a solid wall of aqua paint. My spinning wheel was also in an awkward place, and the sitting area was actually too spread out to be good for conversation. There was an odd corner where baskets of yarn and fiber were just dumped at random.

So, I waved my magic wand…and then I rolled up the rug and started moving furniture.
 

First, I made a place to weave, in the sunniest corner of the room. Now, when I look up from the loom, I can see across the room to the sitting area.

The baskets of yarn are scattered here and there around the room, adding color and being within reach. The sitting area is cosy now, and the chair can be pulled back to make room for the spinning wheel.

So far, I haven’t spent a penny on this remake. I do have plans to get some new art for the walls. Something with a flock of sheep in it, of course.

Thinking just about knitting for the moment, pushing aside all thoughts of spinning, weaving and diverse arts, 2008 was all about the sock. I may have knit more hats, but I had the most fun knitting socks.

I know I’m not going to finish any more projects this year, so here’s the official count of what I’ve knitted to completion since picking up the needles again in August:

4 hats
3 pairs of socks
2 scarves
2 amulet bags
2 bibs
1 catnip mouse

There are a few projects that are still on the needles.

2 pairs of socks
1 scarf
1 tote bag
1 hat

And 1 sweater. Maybe. I haven’t decided whether to give up on the sweater or not. I don’t really like the feel of the yarn, and I need to rip back quite a few rows because I forgot a decrease. I might just weave something from the yarn instead, and spend time knitting things I enjoy.

I call myself a reawakened knitter. I knit as a child, because I wanted to do everything creative that my mother did. At college, my long red wool scarf was my signature style, a blazing accent in my otherwise black wardrobe. I knit a lot in those four years, from mittens to afghans. I learned that by keeping my hands busy, I was able to listen deeply to my professors and retain what they said. I drifted away from knitting, busy with my career and my life. Shallow times.

The Rinebeck years, starting in the mid 1990’s, brought me back to fiber, as a spinner and weaver. My mother reawakened to knitting, so I had an outlet for my handspun. I picked up the needles again in 2006 and got half-way through a scarf before stepping into the role of my mother’s caregiver. Let me tell you, it’s not like you would imagine it to be. No long hours of knitting while she rested. I was managing the household, staff, endless doctors’ appointments, and so many hospital visits. She kept on knitting, until the last few days of her life.

I finished that scarf from 2006 back in August, and started knitting socks. Knitting is the only way that I can meditate. I have to keep my hands busy so that I can still my mind. Although I enjoy the social aspect of knitting circles and spinning guilds, there is nothing like an hour of quiet knitting. No thoughts. Only stitches.

See? I finished Nina’s socks and gave them to her this evening. Not because it’s Christmas or Chanukah. Simply because they are done. They are knit in a simple lacy rib using the 6 Stitches Per Inch Sock pattern in Ann Budd’s Getting Started Knitting Socks. The yarn is Noro Silk Garden Sock.

Gregory’s socks are off to a good start. Hopefully he will have them before winter is over. The pattern is Harris Tweed by Ali Green, and the yarn is Silkie Socks that Rock in the Corbie colourway. This yarn is marvelous. It’s silky and soft, and has good elasticity.

I have a half dozen skeins of sock yarn from Rhinebeck. The next pair is going to be for me.