Showing My Stripes

I almost always carry a small, drawstring shoulder purse that my mother gave me. The truth is that I was the ungrateful recipient of a gift that has served me well. The poor little thing has evenly spaced multicolored stripes and the first thing I noticed was the misfit of two colors with the rest of the colorway. Yet its size and shape are practical and lightweight. Cashiers rarely fail to remark about how cute it is. That I thought I could do a better job has come home to me. Today I put these three mini shoulder purses up for sale on Etsy. Each was an experiment in stripes. The green purse was worked in textured stripes of back and forth rows alternating with continuous rounds. Consciously spaced rows of pastel stitches give the effect of a flower garden. The blue, purple and pink mini hobo bag is an experiment with single-row color stripes worked back and forth in a tube. And the chevron striped stitch pattern of the last purse automatically shape shifts the colors. What fun! I'll probably carry my little misfit shoulder bag until it falls apart but I hope someone else will enjoy traveling light with well-chosen stripes.

Fingernails as Fiber Tools

Last night I read that our fingernails are made up of flat, dense, dead cells that grow from specialized cells underneath and below our cuticles. As these cells move forward, they change and harden into a kind of protein called keratin. Human beings and most primates have fingernails. My author says that the main function of our nails is "to provide both a rigid backing and a protective carapace for the pulpy fingertip,...." He goes on to joke that people who bite their nails are depriving themselves of a "built-in tool kit of cutters, pliers, scrapers and screwdrivers." This makes me think of the way I use my nails as I pursue a variety of fiber crafts. My fingernails act as needle-nose pliers when I pick bits of seed and hay from wool that I am preparing to spin. It is also my nails that pinch out nubs from a yarn single in progress and create a smooth, finished yarn. When I crochet, I use my nails to tighten the starting knot after the first loop is on my hook and, often, I push a loop of a previous stitch out of the way with the tip of my nail as I pull a new loop through. This morning, while taking a stitch, I guided the point of my sewing needle up onto a fingernail to keep the point of the needle from catching in the knit fabric of a stuffed toy. I've gone from seeing my fingernails as something to constantly trim, to seeing them as my own specialized tool kit!

Springtime Inspiration

Visual inspiration is everywhere whether we are looking at a soul-stirring sunset, the veining pattern of a leaf or manmade items such as a fine art-glass vase or the detailing on a restored Victorian house. This month, I am charmed, as always, by lacy springtime leaves, early flowers and preliminary excursions through seed catalogues. My imaginings for gardening and landscaping around our new home prompted me to write a short piece that compares crochet work to the gardening process. You can find it in the new issue of Crochet Insider (http://crochetinsider.com/article/cultivating-your-crochet-garden) along with my original pattern for a crocheted zinnia to be worked in number 3 perle cotton.

Sisters of the Cloth

Knit and crochet have something special in common. Each can be worked from the starting end of a ball, skein, cone, or other supply source until the supply runs out. To realize how important this idea is, think of how, when you sew, you must cut a length of thread, knot the end, and then pull the entire length through the first stitch until the knot catches. Each consecutive stitch requires that the remaining length be pulled up. Not so, when you knit or crochet!
I got excited while I was writing Contemplative Crochet and reading about the Turkish lace-making craft of oyasi. My author said that early oyas (edging lace on fabric) were needle-made but that after crochet was introduced, many were worked with a crochet hook. I remembered seeing a bit of what looked like knitted i cord from South America in a museum and noting that the label said it was made with a needle. I was incredulous. But it's true; the origins of stretchy fabrics come from, none other than, the original, primitive and simple, sewing needle. Recent understanding of and resurgence in the craft of nalbinding add another piece to the puzzle. With nalbinding, shorter lengths of thread or yarn were spiced in to create the looped fabric that was needled into ancient versions of socks, mittens and hats. The needle is the Mother-of-All and her work is recognizable by her short lengths.
Over the course of history, we have created many variations of: needle, shuttle, and bobbin. But with the invention of first knitting, and then crochet, there was literally no stopping us, especially no stopping to cut, splice, wind or thread and no pulling through, trying to avoid tangles until the end of the strand was snug.

Beautiful Hands

" I remember quite vividly the occasion when the penny first dropped, and I discovered that aesthetically the hand was the most beautiful part of the human body." HANDS by John Napier

Handwork, especially the fiber crafts, have been one of my major passions since childhood, crochet being my favorite mode of transport. Yet few have brought the hand itself into the picture, and so, I here and now charge myself with a heightened observation of the hand and encourage my readers, also, to be aware of your hands and all they do.