SOAR--A Week in Fuzzy Pictures and Muddled Thoughts

Has it been only two and a half weeks since I got home, tired, sore, and covered in little bits of fuzz, from SOAR? It seems like much longer, and even then I haven't even started processing the experience. How do you sum up a week where you do nothing but create and explore and cram as much as you can into the short hours of the day, all surrounded by people whose interests and loves are the exact same as yours? Well, yes, it's summed up as "heaven", but it was more than that. Part of being a SOAR scholarship recipient (an opportunity I was privileged to be chosen for) is that you must present them an essay before the next year, talking about your experiences. I think, perhaps, only by that point will I be able to sum it all up! In the meantime, a pictoral essay will have to do. And, since this is me we're talking about, it'll be a patchy one at best! Did I take pictures of any of my classes? Nope. But I got some shots of the things that inspired me and challenged me, and I can't wait to share them.

A table of samples from Janel Laidman's three day color blending workshop. I got to take her one day ply-blending workshop and her half-day fiber blending workshop, both of which were amazing.


The results of Pat Sparks' three day workshop on pictoral needle-felted "watercolors".


A glorious pile of art yarns, including the cover yarn for the SOAR magazine, from Jacey Boggs' three-day. I took her thick'n'thin'n'coils class on Friday and oh my goodness, she is the most wonderfully technical spinner ever. Such a cool way to learn about art yarns!

There was a gallery of finished items to ogle as well. I caught it as the light was coming in strong and golden from over the river.

The final night was a huge group spin-in in the Armory.

The big things I think I've taken from SOAR are not answers to the questions I had, or the techniques I learned. While I came away with plenty of those, the major thing was that every question answered or technique learned was a hydra--two more "what if?"s sprang up in their wake. What if you combined a gradient-carded series of batts with a handpainted roving fractal? How would you spin silk on a tahkli? How did both Roman sheep and Viking sheep develop single and double-coated breeds? What happened to sheep domestication and breed development when the masses moved from the country to the city in the Black Plague? Could you use a Guatemalan spindle to spin in the Blackfoot tradition? What if, what if, what if, what if--I can't wait to keep exploring these throughout the rest of the year.

The perfect everyday hat

I am a hat girl. I always was, as this picture from oh, probably around 1987 illustrates:

(trendsetter!)

As I grew up, I had the best series of hats. As a teenager, I had a Paul Frank hat for the wintertime that was barberpole striped in blue and red, and was topped off with a voluminous pom-pom on each corner. I also had a bucket hat made from coiled ribbon, an authentic Donegal fedora, and I stole my dad's broad-brimmed cowboy fedoras with appalling regularity.
My favorite, though, was the one I had in college. It was, frankly, pretty horrid; it was a hand-me-down from a friend, who had bought it at Wal-Mart (I know, I know). It was simple one-by-one rib, marled beige acrylic yarn, and hadn't even been knit in the round--there was a gigantic seam on it that had to be kept in the back. But it was huge, and comfy, and slouchy; I could wear it as a really long beanie, or pull it back further for some slouch. Best of all, it reminded me of my college friends. I will blushingly admit to wearing it all the time after college, too--a work colleague called it my "London slums urchin hat" at one point, which wasn't far off. (I don't have any pictures of this one, thank goodness!) I even brought it with me as a safety blanket to New Zealand, and wore it All. The. Time, especially to sleep when it the temperature in my bedroom didn't make it above 40! But, as part of the whole process of learning and growing in New Zealand, I decided that it was time to surrender it. I left it at my favorite hostel in Wellington for someone else to love.
Since that time, I haven't had a hat to truly live in. I have a Selbu Modern that I love, but it's a bit too fancy to cover up on a bad hair day, you know? So when I went back to Grinnell in June and got a request from my friend Maggie for a hat (in exchange for a kick ass wallet made from an old burlap coffee bag), I knew that this was the perfect opportunity to make my perfect hat.
Knit from one skein of Quince and Co.'s gorgeous aran-weight Osprey, the Eyen Hat was designed to have just the right amount of slouch, enough going on with the cables while knitting to keep it interesting, and the wearability for everyday.

(Quince photos, as always, by the lovely Carrie Bostick Hoge!)

This hat was also part of the downward slide into Chartreuse obsession--I LOVE this color! Quince's Honey just kills me every time. I love how it changes in every light!

All in all, I absolutely cannot wait to have one of these hats for my very own.

And finally, Delius!

When I woke up this morning, there was a gentle rain pattering down outside my window, and all I wanted was a big mug of Earl Grey tea. Even if the leaves are still green and I'm still running around in flip-flops (let's face it, those stay on until the serious frosts hit), everything around me is whispering "Fall! Fall! Fall!" So I think it's time to talk about my contribution to the wonderful Fall edition of Twist Collective. I am so, so pleased to be a part of this edition; I am an autumn girl through and through, and my design, the Delius vest, is very close to my heart.

This vest originally started as a Christmas present for my eminently knitworthy father. My knitting friends will attest to the fact that, every year in mid-October, I swear up and down that I will NOT be doing any Christmas knitting this year. And, every year in mid-November, I crumble and go buy yarn for far-too-elaborate projects that inevitably get gifted while still on the needles, or still wet from blocking, or not at all. This, um, fashionable lateness was compounded in this case by the fact that the only yarn I liked at my LYS that fit the bill for my dad (navy blue, good for a business formal vest) and mine (mostly wool and tweedy) was Rowan Felted Tweed. Which needed to be knit on size 2s to get the stitch definition I wanted. So yeah, not in time for Christmas.

(the first finished vest, modeled on its wonderful recipient. Both he and my brother, the other obliging model, were bribed with Tony's Donuts for this photoshoot. Thanks, guys!)

However, acknowledging to myself that this was not going to be neatly wrapped up with a bow under the Christmas tree also meant that I could really think about the details of the vest. Dad and I took a trip to Ireland together when I was a teenager, and since then, have shared a love of the cables of the Aran sweaters, both traditional and otherwise. Therefore I had always kept an eye on the cable sections of stitch dictionaries, and when I saw the Windblown Cables in Barbara Walker's third treasury, I had to earmark them for a sweater for him. The cables were delicious in the Felted Tweed, and, amidst a bed of 2x2 ribbing and stockinette, they were perfect.

There were a couple other moments of serendipity in the development of this vest; I spent the last weeks of the year in my family home, and Frederick Delius' gorgeous composition "Summer Night on the River" was often on in the background. This and the constant vest knitting, coupled with the gorgeous mood boards for Twist's Fall submission, came together to create my first design in Twist.

(Goofballs, the lot of them. At Bug Light in South Portland, Maine.)

Very little changed from my original prototype: the gauge (thank goodness), thanks to the substitution of the lovely Imperial Stock Ranch Columbia rather than the Felted Tweed; the shoulders widened slightly (the original was a little narrow in that area); and a design feature that I had planned in the original, but goofed up, was added--a 2x2 cable that flowed from the front cables around the back of the neck and added that little bit of extra length to keep the back from riding up.

I'd love to say that the design process was a long and arduous one with many samples and lots of little tweaks, but it was pretty smooth sailing! (I did have some fun incorporating the increases needed to balance the cable panels after the ribbing. Earth-shattering stuff!) I'm even thinking about a women's version with waist shaping named Delia (bless these Latinate nouns with their easily gendered endings)--I have my eye on the Sap or Hayloft colorways in Shelter. Whether the women's version materializes or not, it was a wonderful experience. Thanks again to Twist for their support and their wonderfully inspiring magazine. Happy knitting!

Picot! Picot! And Sale! Sale!

We interrupt this irregularly (erratically, even) scheduled broadcast to say that the final pattern of August is out! Meet the Picot! Picot! Cowl:

(modeled by the ever lovely Casey, last seen wearing the Earl Grey Mitts!)

This pattern's genesis came about almost seven months ago, during a coffee date with a friend. After having done the picot edging on the Bristol's Cowl, I was talking about how, once you've done a picot, you suddenly want to put it on everything. Well, the lightbulb went off, and this cowl is the result! It utilizes the typical picot edging, true, but it's also got picots incorporated throughout the whole body of the cowl. So much fun!

(thank goodness for Wharf St. in downtown Portland. It's one of the best locations for a photoshoot ever!)

This cowl also utilizes SuriPaco's gorgeous Katahdin Collection yarn, a 60/40 blend of domestic suri alpaca and domestic merino. Coming in at a lushly spun aran weight, this stuff is fantastic to work with! I can't wait for cooler temperatures so I can snuggle down deep in it.

The other cool thing about this cowl is that it heralds a sale on my self-published patterns on Ravelry. My 26th birthday is on Sunday, and I decided to celebrate my last week of being 25 by having a 25% off sale. Go forth and use the coupon code "birthday"!

A Week in Fiber Heaven

Skipping back in the order of things, I definitely need to recap my week at Medomak Camp's New England Fiber Arts Retreat. The problem is, I'm having a hard time putting it into words, other than one: bliss. A week in the beautiful Maine countryside, with some of my favorite people in the world as bunkmates and some of the coolest students I could ask for, talking fiber 24/7, eating amazing food, swimming in a gorgeous lake--I can't think of anything better.

(naturally dyed sample skeins)

I taught classes in dyeing and knitting with silk hankies, the Bristol's Cowl pattern from Quince & Co., and drop spindling, and did one-on-one lessons in wheel-spinning.

(the class and results of dyeing silk hankies)

I went on field trips to Hope Spinnery, Nanne Kennedy's Seacolors farm, and Katharine Cobey's studio.

(the teachers hanging out outside Hope Spinnery; Daniel is knitting a hat from Rachel's handspun; Rachel is stripping the plants in the garden to see if they'd work for dye; Dana is embroidering on some adorable vintage fabric; and I'm stripping milkweed to spin the fibers from the stem. All dorks.)

I played lots of Scrabble. I sat on the porch in the rocking chairs and knitted and chatted.

(the ever-shifting arrangement of the rocking chairs)

I laid out and air-dried on the dock by the lake. I had more than a few gin and tonics. I spent half an hour laying back on a wooden platform at midnight, watching the lightning storm play out overhead.
But mostly, I just let go and had fun. It was a week of sheer bliss with new friends and old, and I cannot wait for next summer to roll around so I can do it all over again!

Edie Shawl

Oh, to hell with chronological order--I want to talk about my design with Quince and Co. that came out today!

The Edie Shawl (and here's a Rav link)is a top-down triangular shawl, started on a small number of stitches and gradually increased at the center spine and edges. It utilizes the bounce and stitch definition and gorgeous, saturated colors of Chickadee--even if that saturated color is pink in this case! (Although my momma says it's raspberry. My momma's always right.)

It was a fun challenge for me! I started it right after I designed the Lida Shawl, and wanted to move in a completely different direction: ribbing instead of stockinette, panel instead of allover pattern, and lifted bar increases rather than yarn-overs. To say it was an interesting process was an understatement!

Even with all that change and shift in direction, I am definitely happy with the finished product. I'm even more happy with Carrie's amazing photography for Quince. I am beyond pleased to have the opportunity to work with such an awesome company. Here's to many future projects!

Tour de Fleece

Oh man oh man, do I have blog backlog to take care of! That's one of the big problems with working freelance; all the interesting things happen at once. It's either feast or famine! So this week, I will attempt to wrap up:
a--the Tour de Fleece
b--my amazing and wonderful week teaching at the Medomak Fiber Arts Retreat
and c--the privilege and honor of my men's vest design, Delius, appearing in the Fall Twist Collective
(and maybe d--, where there's a chance I have another design coming out this week. Who knows!)

To keep things chronological and preserve my sanity, I'll start with the Tour de Fleece. My plan was to get through three separate projects, but for some reason the first project ended up taking 19 of the 20 days of the Tour. I guess spinning cobweb-weight 100% tussah silk will do that. . .

This isn't even the halfway point. Sigh.

This project was a real test in perseverance for me--I knew I wanted the final product, but goodness, getting to that point was a slog! The sense of accomplishment when it was finally plied and off the bobbin, though, was pretty amazing.

the finished product!

When I finally got it off the bobbin and counted, the realization started to hit me as to why it was taking so long. The final estimate is around 2,000 yds/6 ounces of silk. Whew.

The best part? I get to knit it now! Here's the very squishy, very ripply, very weird-looking beginning of Herbert Niebling's Lyra (rav link).

Wish me luck for the remaining 150 rows. . .