Monday, November 23, 2009

Being changed by the lace


I think there's a moment in the doing of lace when a part of the mind is altered by the repetition of the pattern. Its a little magical when it happens. For a while (at least for me) the following of the pattern is a little halting and clumsy. The chart has to be kept close at hand. There is gnashing of teeth involved, as well as an occasional horrid ripp-it sound. And then the moment comes.

It takes longer sometimes for the pattern to become comfortable in the fingers. There can also be a few false moments of confidence that are commonly followed by restarts. But at some point, there is a moment when the pattern doesn't need to be consulted, the pattern starts to be revealed and there is a comfortable predictability of it all.

Warning.

This feeling is commonly followed by a really really huge error made more painful if your confidence led you to ignore including a lifeline. This is the consequence of hubris. If watchful you can discover it before you have gone too far.
Breathe deeply, correct the error....

... and then settle in with the rhythm of the lace, let the yarn overs and SSK's flow. This is the time when knitters feel affirmed in the choice of lace.

I am certain that a scientist among us would be able to explain this magical moment when comfort is found with ones lace by talking about an electrical pathway having been defined in the brain by the pattern. This may be true.

I am certain a musician could explain it with a metaphor with the way a musical riff or measure is learned through physical and emotional practice.

I am a knitter. I know it as the reason I knit, and the reason I enjoy lace.

TWO HOURS LATER-----

NEVER MIND! MY STITCH COUNT IS MYSTERIOUSLY OFF. Lace is a curse.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Sunday Citar:Remember The white space

I value the white space as necessary to understand the meaning of the space that is filled.

When I attended my first ballet, a friendly mentor explained to me to fully appreciate the ballet, I needed to balance my perception by appreciating the white space ...paying attention to the space and the design formed by the pattern between the dancers.

When attending a museum as a young student, a teacher also explained this to me not only to understand design, but to appreciate the skill in properly hanging art along a wall in a manner that adds to the meaning and the qualities of it.

In poetry, this is also an apt metaphor I think. Poetry provides meaning not only by what is said overtly and in the black ink, but in the space between the words, where one's mind and heart add meaning to the words and rhythms of the poem. Poetry too depends on this white space.

Pattern is formed by the rhythm between the white and the filled spaces.

I think Sundays are my weekly white space.

I am an extrovert as those who know me can attest to. I tire their ears sometimes, especially when I am struggling through a complex thought. You see as is definitive of an extrovert, I process externally through communications with others. It is fortunate that my loved ones are patient, as I have been known to go on tangents. As I have gotten older, however, I have also grown to value that place in-between as being important. That space of emptiness and light is where my soul is replenished and the darkness finds balance.


Saturday, November 14, 2009

Playng hide and Seek OR Showing the Shrug in process

I know. Not an elegant picture of my current project. In fact it may be considered a bit odd. But you can kind of see that it has a diamond pattern, and is a lace weight charcoal. The knob coming out my ear is the sleeve. When completed it will be a Shrug. Its from the book A Gathering of Lace, and is taking a very long time to complete.

If you look real carefully you can just barely see my cockatoo's beak poking around in back of me. She is playing hide and seek, so there may be a couple of challenging little holes to mend if I am not careful.




Wednesday, November 11, 2009

A Good Day in the Neighborhood



Topping off a fun "girlie day" with my daughter yesterday, I went out for breakfast with my girlfriend this morning. I gave her the scarf, which was beautiful on her, ( I have a photo of that and will add it when I can get it off my phone, in the meantime heres a fav photo of a best moment) and we laughed, ate, walked, laughed more, shared stories and recent epiphanies, and in general do what women do when they have discovered the value of friends.

I didn't always get it. For most of my life I didn't place much value in intimate friendships, certainly not with other women. Career, fun, money worries, child-raising frets, emoting over romance problems or possibilities; these things seemed important. Spending time sharing with friends and daughters just didn't measure up to all those pressures. Not then.

Now... a few minutes laughing over shared memories and planning future outings with a close friend, or time spent in the early morning with my daughter knitting seems so essential to my well-being.

So today was a good day,
Breathe out the bad air, breathe in gratitude for all that is good, and for friends

I love walking on days like today. Today after hugging my friend good-bye at her car, I walked a mile down Broadway, among the wet leaves, in the fall drizzle. I realized I know business owners or employees in most of the business along my path. I know them well enough to ask after their families, the most recent tumult and share with them hopes for improved business during the holiday season.

I recognize some of the people walking by and sometimes one stoped to exchange pertinent small talk and smiles. Couldn't always remember the name, but it felt good to have these brushes with familiarity.

This is the " Sense of Place" I always said I wanted one day. When I moved to Portland with my daughter, I was 17 years old and on my own. I had never lived one place for any significant length of time. I hadn't yet developed any skills at crafting mutually nourishing bonds with others. I had never successfully sustained a relationship of any sort, in fact.

I am learning. Not real skilled at it yet. But I am improving.
And I always, always breathe a breath of gratitude while I work at it.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Finished



There is a nice satisfaction to finishing a project. I completed the scarf for my friend. Its blocking now on the dining room table. Here is a picture


Its a pattern by Brooke Nelson called Column of Leaves. Its a free download on Ravelry or you can retrieve it from her website. An easy knit. I chose Berocco Venezia yarn, worsted weight. Its a silk wool blend, very nice with good stitch definition.

I am almost finished with the shrug as well, looking forward to posting those pictures soon. As satidsfying as it is to be completing projects, I have the dilemma of which of the projects in my head do I knit now?

Time to research. I think the most difficult aspect of knitting is to decide on a project.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

New Lyrics to an Old Tune for His birthday ---


Now you're 64
(sing to the Beatles tune)

Now that you are older, mourning your hair, Many years have passed
I still call you to lay in our bed
Birthday greetings, bottles of meds


When you are out till quarter to three, I don’t lock the door,
I do still need you, and enjoy feeding you,
Now you’re sixty-four.

I am getting older too,
And I ask you ,will you still love me, will you still tease me
When I’m 64?


You can be handy, mending a fuse
When my lights have gone.
I can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday mornings we go for a ride.

Doing the shopping, visiting rehab
Who could ask for more?
Yes, I still need you, yes, I still feed you
Although your 64

Every summer we rent a cottage,
In the Neakanie, cause it's not too far

We Pack up all the beasts and we have a little feast,
Although we’re 64,

we hold on for more ----


Happy 64th to my husband

Sunday, November 1, 2009


On other matters With a comfortable theme.......my knitting

Knitting is a kind of mantra at times like this, its a place for me to let go of all that gets frazzled and tangled, finding the central thread and turning it into something pretty. I don't think much about what the product will be though. I like to get caught in the pattern, and the rhythm that the pattern creates. ..It beomes kinda of a hum as I knit and purl and add yarn overs finding the tempo and melody in it all. Once the pattern gets imprinted in my mind I can knit myself into a special place where nothing else even exists and my body has relaxed into the softness of the wool.

I started a new project with a wine red silk wool blend that is incredibly soft on my fingers and its rich jewel tone is just right as I create a column of leaves down the center of the scarf. Its a comfort scarf and I am filling my knitting of it with the love I feel for the scarf's recepient, my very best friend, Krista.

Its a Comfort Thing.




Perhaps its the smell of homemade soup simmering, the fireplace smoldering and the sound of "trick or treaters" recently visiting us that has made me feel all warm and settled inside. I realize a good portion of my energies in adulthood has been in pursuit of comfort. When there is warmth and softness when its a cold & wet night out of doors and I hear laughter (although silence is OK), I feel pretty good about how its all turned out.


When I am walking through the fall leaves (at least when I can withhold the thought that the task of raking needs to get added to my weekend list); I know that once I am inside it will be peaceful. I know that when I am inside my husband and I will share the days events with some level of interest and intensity; there will be a warm, relatively clean house; pets will greet me with enthusiasm, and I will go to bed feeling grateful for a very good life.

There are times I fret that life has become mundane, but on those days there is enough drama, in family matters and at work, to stave off boredom and to inspire growth.
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