The art of the ladies room

OK, this may be a little off the usual blog entry that people expect here.

I’ve started a photo series exploring what the ladies’ room of today looks like, now that we don’t have fainting couches and such waiting in the lounges of department stores. The most I’ll ever show is mirrors, sink, tile, etc. The rest of the facility I’m editing out (unless I’m in the Victoria Albert Museum and there’s a museum exhibit of the swan toilet from the Victorian era). Thank you Philadelphia Museum of Art for opening the Perleman wing. The quality of light throughout this museum… well, there’s a lot more to the exhibit than just the art — the light is mesmerizing. I did get some great shots of large glazed pottery urns in the light in the main exhibit hall. But the real fascination started with the photo to the right, because the light coming in a bathroom window was just amazing. And then, I saw the sink and realized that American Standard and all sorts of other sink manufacturers would love light like that in one of their catalogs. Since I was in a museum, had a camera, and was absolutely alone (I would never use a camera if there was someone else there…. ew!) I shrugged and took the photo.

Noodling about, thinking about a dreamswatch shawl

I have some Koigu that I’m swatching today. I will see how the swatch(es) knit up (size 0 needles, but they’re square needles so the gauge is really small), and then think about what I want to do next. It may all depend on what the yarn feels like when it’s washed. Options include:

• Dreamswatch (7 to 15 repeats of the pattern) for a kind of shawl or stole if the yarn does not wash up to be as soft as I hope
• Socks (that’s a ravelry link — it’s for the Interweave Knits Windowpane socks, and would need a background color)
• A baby hat (no pattern in mind, but it needs to be soft!)

I kind of wish there was more olive in the yarn, because that would have made it visually fight less. It’s always interesting the difference between the nicely coiled hank and the yarn balled up or knit up. Of course, it’s always interesting to knit up items that have marinated for a long time in the stash drawer. I can’t remember which pattern I originally thought I’d do. So, think the dream swatch shawl would be a good idea?

Goodbye to The Water Element and PS3

Lake at a National Park

October is the end of Project Spectrum for the year. Yes, I still have projects on the needles (for instance, a certain green pair of socks which is next in the second-sock completion queue). But I’m still very pleased with the results. I’ve used the whole project — from fire and earth to air and water — to motivate me to try different things and to use different media, as well as to jumpstart an ongoing mythology project. Yes, I’ll continue on reading even as PS3 ends.

I made socks (3 pairs and one half a pair), attempted to cast on rusted root for the water element (it’s on hold now), knit with thread, drew the stones of a church, learned to photograph water, made earrings (with pink and orange crystals for the fire element), tried out Cat Bhordhi’s sock book, and finished lots of projects.

The light and shadows are beautiful this time of year

If Lolly holds Project Spectrum next year, I’m hoping my contribution will be less about texture and one skein of yarn (admittedly multi-dyed, but the yarn did most of the work) and more about purpose-driven color play. Maybe a lovely Fair Isle sweater with multiple colors of the rainbow. Or some project that captures the mood of the shadows in a doorway on an Autumn day.

In the meantime, I’ve joined Socktoberfest because I’m enjoying the extra boost to my creativity that PS3 gave to me. Maybe I’ll finish up some of those sock projects. I’m also thinking about casting on for Rusted Root soon. Just because I didn’t get to it during the timeline for PS3 doesn’t mean I don’t want to knit it.

My brain keeps singing the song “Wake Me Up When September Ends,” more from the depressing weekend weather we’ve had than any other reason. In future posts, I may revisit some of the projects I worked on for PS3, showing the items that were made long before WordTapestry was born. Hopefully, tomorrow will be a good day for photography — the tidal socks should be ready for a final close-up then.

Thanks, Lolly, for all the fun and challenge!

Tidal Socks

Tidal sock with seashells

For good, or ill, the tidal socks (Project Spectrum — water element) have been cast on. I may end up with socks to give to the bazaar this November. Or I may luck out with the gauge. One never knows with color work.

Stats on the yarn are here: http://wordtapestry.wordpress.com/2008/08/26/eine-kleine-destash-project/

The pattern is loosely based on Stephanie Pearl-McPhee’s recipe sock, with lots of yarn stranding thrown in with two variegated balls of yarn. Beg pardon if my swearing over tangles burns your ears.

And, here’s hoping all your projects for September are filled with optimism (even if the projects are for work).

Rainy Days Remind Me

…. of working with pastels. Lovely smudged charcoal skies, with staid brick buildings suddenly turning pink in the light. Grass turns an incredible Kelly green. Tree trunks turn black, and crepe myrtles suddenly have impossibly bright fuchsia blooms.

In my mind’s eye, I’ve used white and watery yellow to smudge the swirl of light where the weak sun shines. And now, I’m adding streaks of clouds that show lighter than the sky, and layers of light slate blue where they curl up against one another.

Days like this remind me of art class, days spent at the museum, or lazy days sitting on the porch, watching a sheet of silver rain obscure summer. They also remind me of summer’s end. What do rainy days make you think about?

Now if This Had Been Winter

… what a cool snowstorm Hanna would be.

We’d have 12″ of snow, and I’d be kicking myself right now that I don’t have my cross-country skis. Or snow shoes.

I’m pretty sure this isn’t what I wanted to see for Project Spectrum element “water”.

Below the Reflections

A lot of the mythology I’ve been reading has themes of reflections — faerie world as a reflection of modern life, the jealousies of the gods reflecting those of the people who live below Mount Olympus, the reflections or waves on water hiding the world beneath the depths.

If you’re interested in water + mythology, you might want to check out the Celtic myths. Here are a few that I really enjoyed in Celtic Myths and Legends by Peter Berresford Ellis:

• “Princess of the Fomorri” — with boats coming up out of the ocean, away from their docks under the sea, a princess who needs a drink from a specific chalice, and a smart, intelligent healer, this Scottish tale has me looking at the deepy darks and shadows in a good way.
• “Gilaspick Qualtrough” — has a sailor who tells tall tales experiencing an unbelievable adventure and casting his nets for a bell. This Manx tale includes the ocean god, a beautiful princess, and some amusing comedic scenes.
• “The Ben-Varrey” — involves a fisherman, a mermaid, an evil Druid, and a cat with a fiddle and a jigging mouse and cockroach. Again, this one is from the Isle of Man and is a lighthearted tale with dark deeds mixed in.
• “The Destruction of Ker-Ys” — which is a dark, dark tale from Brittany. Destruction, fire, flood, poisoning, and a tale of multiple revenge. This one is complicated by the presence of lots of false-faces and a bishop vs. a Druidess.

It makes a great deal of sense that the coastline areas (and smaller islands) of the British Isles would have lots of tales that about the changeableness of water. It’s a life-giving force, and yet it can take things away so quickly. Even wells have a changeable nature.

In a way, we all deal with the reflections of the real world all the time, not pondering the deeper realities. It isn’t healthy to look beneath the shadows of the waves all the time — it’s hard for us to breathe down there. But, sometimes, it’s useful to reflect on where we are, search what has changed in our goals, and try to push at the water a little to redirect our course. [Note: the Gardener has requested help securing portions of the garden against high winds. To everyone else who might be affected by Hanna or the other storms playing pinball with the East Coast (and Cuba, Puerto Rico, etc), please stay safe.]

“F” Is for “Fountainhead”

Water for a neighborhood pond

No, not Ayn Rand. I’m focusing on Project Spectrum — water’s source as a means of discussing creativity. Where does creativity “well up” from? What inspires us to create and then hold our work up in the light?

I try to paint well, attempt to write with elegance, and seek to go beyond my limits. And why? To keep inspiration alive. If you think you’re a hack artist, it’s hard to aspire beyond that. Some thoughts from Paul Graham:

…one of the reasons artists in fifteenth century Florence made such great things was that they believed you could make great things. They were intensely competitive and were always trying to outdo one another, [...] maybe like anyone who has ever done anything really well. –Paul Graham

Artists wrestle with their work’s worth, as do writers. Bankers, lawyers, and others tap into creative forces, too. The creativity is just less visible to the outside world.

The fountain of the pond

So, as you go through your daily routine, think about this — what gets your creativity flowing?

Often I need to read someone else’s work to get out of a rut, and the current mythology project is a useful construct. I use knitting time as time to center my writing.

Do you need something external, like a walk away from your office, to kick start your ideas? Is coffee your daily focuser, or do you need Finlandia crashing its symphonic waves in your office?

Wishing everyone a little drop of inspiration in the coming months.

Eine Kleine Destash Project

I’m trying to design a little sock. I want something that reminds me of water, summer, and clean rivers. Guess I’m plunging into the Water element of Project Spectrum.

I have two different yarns for this project: Opal ZwergerGarn in white-blue (streaks of white and streaks of navy blue similar to Mississippi 2085) and Regia 4 Fach Haltbar (4 colors are in #5374: dark blue, light blue, gray green and light gray green). Both skeins are similar in weight and yarn thickness. Both were bought as sale yarn years ago, so I don’t feel bad about a possible Frankensock.

I will probably adapt a plain pattern, and then play around with a bit of Fair Isle knitting… Think: knitting finger paints! I’m left with the question one sometimes asks when pairing two kids together on the first day of camp: “Wonder if they’ll play together or fight?”

In other knitting news, I keep knitting on the Sampler Sock (Little Child’s Sock from Knitting Vintage Socks). I’m up to row 94, and hoping to get to the wacky “break the yarn” stage after row 109 soon.

Hope everyone out there is taking advantage of these last sweet days of summer. I got to go to the State Fair on Saturday, and may have some pictures of the horses in the equitation competition.

The Deep Is Dark

Beneath here, ornamental carp lurk... but, what else?

I’ve been reading Celtic Myths and Legends by Peter Berresford Ellis. From stories of skulls, coins, and swords thrown into the Thames by the ancient Celtic people to the actual myths referred to in the title — from the Isle of Man ["Island of the Ocean God"] and Cornwall ["An Lys-an-Qwyrs"] — there is a mythological darkness to water.

The darkness is present, even when it’s a myth that has been combined with Christianity, probably by the Christian priests and scribes who wrote them down. I wish I had the time to go and study how Christianity gets explained into the picture within some of these myths/legends. The “Island of the Ocean God” talks of how a descendant of the gods became a Christian saint; it feels creepily like there was something that didn’t fit with the original story (conversion to Christianity) and someone decided to make it the pearl of the story. This is a great story for the darkness of water, with the old gods relegated to an undersea city.

I haven’t finished the book yet, but it’s an interesting group of stories to read, after all the children’s stories about pookas and selkies. Celtic legends are totally not benign and mundane if they haven’t been bowdlerized further for children. Either that, or as a child I didn’t understand the darkness and shadow that give the stories nuance and menace. I appreciate the introduction by Ellis, where he explains which stories he tried to remove the Christian gloss put on by the scribes.

On a day filled with light and buzzing cicadas, I’m thinking about the tree shadows on the lawn and how they connect with the darkness of deep water. This is a thick book, and I won’t be done with it soon. It’s the perfect thing to read when shirking yard work and lazing in a hammock, in a mythological world where mosquitoes and black fly don’t exist.