Why Do We Do the Things that We Do?

 This afternoon I took pause to capture images of the active yarn projects spread around my home.  I skipped over the projects that have sat dormant for four or more months.  Inventory?  About nine open accounts.  Wow.  And what do I really have to show for it?  Sometimes, I've got to wonder.  After all, I've repeatedly said that there's no way to make money off this stuff, it's not as if I'm converting my passion into, say, a yarn-work teaching store or even a design house.  It's a sort of applied art meets walking self expression art installment meets a vision of retro-leisure-time-activity.  Who knows, maybe it's just giving expression to modern day angst in a fashion that is quiet and portable and socially acceptable.  And really, why justify it with a cause, a purpose? 

Why so many?  Why not so many!

I'm quite satisfied with the variety, style, craft, and portability of the work at hand.  A benefit of working different projects simultaneously is that any project might fit the moment.  Need some mindless work for sitting at a swim meet?  How about a newly generated concept, full of life and potential?  What about a piece that has failed in it's initial efforts and needs some re-working and careful thought?  And of course, what about the statement piece, one which is always a conversation starter, a gem, piece of my mind, quite literally, out there for all to see? 

Forever Projects Work Wonders on our Sense of Time.

This afghan is one of my favorites.  It's called the Harlequin, from an old Afghan Catalog that I've been carrying around for years, Modern and Traditional Afghans to knit or crochet.

The Harlequin

From Mom's collection of course.

I'm thrilled with my color choice.  The sixties pattern calls for primary colors on a white background.  My taste, and to fit my front porch/office area is the chartreuse/coral/black/grey.  The black background seemed like a great idea, but it's turning into a bit of a nightmare.  I've got about forty more black diamonds to crochet and assemble, and the yarn is difficult to see, especially when working in challenging light.  I'm probably about twenty-five percent finished, so, like many pieces, I may never finish.

Don't give it away.  It's purpose is fulfillment. 

Mobius Cowl

I'm happy to make another Mobius Cowl.  I made this wrap/shawl/warmer for another friend at a time of illness and recovery.  This deep purple cowl is going to someone nearby who has had a difficult season.  I am not too fond of making objects as gifts.  A big piece of why I work yarn crafts is that it's a way to make things without always making things for other people (kids/spouse/etc), and as soon as one fills their to-do list with gift items, well, then, poof(!), there goes the huge part of crafting that is self care and meditative.  That said, I'm ocasionally inspired to make a gift, and this wrap is so clever, in that you never have to lift the hook (it wraps on top and bottom as you crochet), there something delightfully giving about the essence of how the cowl works up.

The message: Oh Well. 

Oh Well! Hat.

Heavy on concept,  the Oh Well! hat is one of my favorites.  It's a double knit, so as I work the main color, the contrasting color can spell a design or word out.  "Oh Well." is my first and very favorite bumper-sticker of all.  That said, it's not my favorite piece of yarn work, and I'm not in love with how it's working up (too clunky, too loose with the two color scheme).  It's also a scrap yarn, so although lovely color and yarn, possibly not the best delivery of my message.  Often times, the concept itself is much more inspiring that whatever it is I actually come up with.  So many ideas, and so  little actual time, of course, to bring ideas to light.  I'm completely captivated with yarn-bombing of all sorts, but truthfully, I can't fathom being able to cover such vast spaces with my work, so I need to settle for wear-able yarn art.

Sometimes, an idea fails. Move On.

Crochet or get out of the way. Move on.

I'm kind of moving away from my obsession with granny squares turned into garments.  So this really delicious yarn (baby cashmere merino silk), that I've already used for fingerless mittens and hat is sort of taking up space in my project mind.  I want to turn it into a skirt, but it's just taking too long, and I'm not feeling it.  Let's face it, anyone who's ever made a lot of stuff knows the truth.  Some projects just don't work.  This might get pieced together one day, but it's hard to
feel it, sitting in a purse, day in and day out.  In some ways, life is a lot like this.  Sometimes, something seems like a good idea, but once the inspiration is gone, move on.

 Meditation, Repetition, Prediction.

Needlepoint bench cover. Just like Grandma's.

 And then, there's a giant needlepoint bench cover that I found, half-worked, in a thrift store last summer. Something tugged at my heart when I saw it, and I was back in my Grandmother's house, learning to needlepoint, and admiring her cane wood chairs each carefully covered with a maroon-backed floral print.  Needlepoint is tedious, a tremendous eye strain, and not very creative at all.  It is, strictly, pattern piece work.  That said, there's a terrific meditative rhythym to this work, and there are mornings when there's nothing that I'd like to do more than sit in bed with coffee in hand, working this piece which, surely, will take a lifetime.  Then I can dream on to the discovery of what and where I might find the proper bench to place this work upon.   Originally, I imagined some sort of giant coat backed with this piece, but now I've come to realize that this sort of needlework will probably never make it outside of the house....well, as far as I can think....

Foresee the inevitable.  Weather will change.
Cozy in the American Tourister suitcase, a pair of mittens, worked up with yarn that will match the "Oh Well" hat.  I originally conspired to put little ducky on the back side, but the pattern I was using was completely wrong and my tension was miserable.  So it was, just a matter of days or weeks ago that I unravelled last winter's work and started over, perhaps to do a simple striped glove or the like.  For the time, I need to let go of my beloved stencil-patterns for knitting.  Now that it's actually snowing, I sort of wish there was a way that I could have foreseen the cold.   I'm enough of a fair weather athlete to absolutely wait until the weather shifts before I perform any seasonal projects.  Poor planning? Perhaps, but then again, if my intention is to create a feeling of being unencumbered within myself, then I guess I'm on the right track.

Wish List: Always Creating. And, speaking of scraps, I've got in my head that I'd like to build a mod-style dress out of cast-off yarn. Crochet is the craft, and I'm thinking a fairly bulky design on vertical stripes.  Lo and behold, the scraps that I was considering, probably wouldn't be enough for a skirt, let alone a dress, so it's back to the drawing board on that one.

And so yes, why do any of this? Why do what I do? Why do what any of us does?  It's in this world, a world endowed with leisure time and technology and mass production and the mad rush to achieve, earn, survive, that we wish and wonder why.  I argue that we do this because we must.  We must do something to create a sense of ritual, peace, art, joy, connection, belonging.  Some of it turns around and makes the world a better place, some of it sits in our own cocoon and withers, but it's what we must do.  We must try to do something, try to create something, after all it's the hope and the wish that we're building something beautiful, meaningful, worthy of this life and more.  

"Will you ever finish that thing?" My reply? "Who cares? Now I have something to keep me alive!!!!"

It's the Mother-Daughter ensemble crochet kit.  Finished during an ever lovely summer break.  All of my obsessions sufficiently fed, feeling only slightly sated.  Anticipating years to come, a life before me, if I am at all fortunate enough, to yarn-work, exercise, puzzle, and the like.  On our final days at the home away from home, I had an opportunity to spruce the house up, go to the beach with two of my favorite gals, and hunker down for some coming delightful work.  Just polished off Ashby's dress and we're flying in style.  Sun, pink, hobbies, perfection.

And it's time for a break from the sun and hustling around town running errands, tidying the house, and getting ready to shut it down for a while.  We are looking for some around the house objects, and it's definitely time for a visit to Skandia Thrift Store in Sister Bay.  It's where we've literally brought truckloads of the refuse that other folks have left at our house, and thank goodness, it was a years-long epic cleaning saga that won't even make the pages of the Unencumbered Woman.  You never know what's gonna catch your eye in a thrift store, and today was no exception.  I had a cd or two in hand, and Ashby was walking around with some sort of random tchotchke when I spied a few yarn-craft kits from way back in the day.

*something special* NEEDLEPOINT.

First, I laid my eyes on a glorious '70s era picture scenery with printed canvas and a full compliment of matching yarn--ding! ding! ding!  Hours and hours and hours of my younger years were spent crafting these needlepoint and embroidery kits.  Fully intact, I couldn't resist.  I must have at least a hundred hours to spare, right?  The kitschy country scene is perfect-o, and I can work it in the country, at home, at swim meets, perhaps even while on an exercise machine--who knows?  I'm feeling an urge to sink even further into the bliss of solitude, quiet craftdom, and pondering of the glorious summer sky, something that every soul deserves and few attain.

barnyard americana

Note the work available to me!  A large piece, meticulously preserved in somebody's craft room.  All colors intact and waiting to be categorized. Puzzling through the pattern is half the fun.  The finished product?  Again, after a lifetime of work, it could become anything.  Simple wall hanging? Perhaps. Wearable yarn-art? Even more likely.  I'm thrilled with the possibility.

needlepoint on canvas.  It's a meditation, plain and simple. 

But then there's more.  Just moments after I re-ignite the long-dead fire in my chest that is the desire to do needlepoint, my eyes fall upon a only half-finished vintage era bench cover that someone must have been crafting decades and decades ago.  I insist that the piece is vintage because it is of an era when women needlepointed seat-cushions for chairs (my Grandma, born in 1899). I also insist that the materials for this piece are beyond lovely.  The vintage 100% wool yarn, nicely packaged and preserved, the fine work, already complete on the piece, and the soft canvas, yellowed with time.  I'm in heaven.  I have long considered one of my callings to finish old afghans that folks had never finished, with the name "Afghans from the Attic".  So why not "Seat cushions from last century?"  It's all available, with a little rooting around at garage, thrift, and estate sales.  

tapestry wool. Perfection.

It's a mammoth undertaking, in size and in simplicity.  Nonetheless I'm captivated by it's simple beauty and the memory of my own Grandma and other women who taught me needle arts when I was a child.  Already the jokes are flying in my home. "Will you ever finish that thing?"  My reply? "Who cares? Now I have something to keep me alive!!!!"

And finally, a trip to Ellison Bay would not be complete without a puzzle.  Need to get back up north to start and eventually finish this ginormous piece.  2000 pieces, and a Ravensburger, no less!  This German company builds puzzles that are satisfying to the touch, to the eye, and are simple delightful to work with.  A few years back I was completely stumped by a 1000 piece Ravensburger, so who knows how long (the rest of my life) this might take.  I like undertaking an eternal project.

sunrise, cup of coffee, and this?  I'm done.