Urbanspinner

Mini Maxi

Have you ever thought about what scale you like to work at? By scale, I mean how many stitches/rows/twists per inch are found in a piece. I've noticed that fiber folks often end up gravitating toward a specific scale in their work, a sort of comfort zone. You know what I mean. There are the lace shawl knitters and the chunky bumpy hat knitters. Threadies (i.e. people who crochet with fine cottons) and afghan crocheters. Precision cobweb spinners and bold textured art spinners.

I've thought about my own scale for a while now. In 2003 I taught charkha spinning at SOAR and had some examples of my cotton threads laid out for class display. Another spinning teacher came by and remarked that I work really fine and tight. And my first thought was, "No, no, I'm teaching rug hooking this weekend! I work big and fat!" It was a defensive reaction that I am still puzzling over. (Why did I get upset when pegged as a fine thread spinner?) But ever since then, I've been paying attention to scale, both my own and that of other fiber artists.

(Click any of these images if you want to see close up.)

My conclusion is that I have a wide comfort zone when it comes to scale. I indeed do rug hooking, using bulky rug yarns and getting about 24 loops per square inch. I also do punch needle work, which is exactly the same technique, only done with tiny needles and a couple strands of embroidery floss. I'm guessing it's around 200 loops per square inch.

I've done some crazy tiny crochet. I occasionally edge handkerchiefs using needle-like crochet hooks* (0.50mm) and size 60 or 80 crochet cotton. (Think of sewing thread only more tightly spun.)

I also started a project to make crocheted patchwork bracelets with slightly larger hooks and single strands of silk and rayon thread. I'll admit this one was crazy-making, even for me. I managed to produce piles of little bright squares of varying colors, but haven't yet found a way to sew them together that produces nice clean edges. (You should have seen the nearly invisible silk thread I was using to sew them, and the specialized minute sewing needles I ordered online.) This bracelet project is still on hold. I haven't given up, but I'm pondering a different approach to joining the squares.

Contrast that to my current project -- a thermal blanket for my bed, made from worsted weight kitchen cotton. I'm using a size J hook. (That's 6.0mm, or about 50 times bigger than my thread crochet hooks if you calculate by area.) I'm estimating that it'll take about 8 lbs. of yarn to make it the desired size of 80x90 inches. I'm using a very simple double crochet stitch, with waffle holes big enough to stick fingertips through.

(You couldn't see a coin if I put it against the afghan for scale, so there's Ziggy --my yarn-hungry black cat-- as a model. And yes, after my 10 years of blogging, he still insists on sitting on my projects while I do them.)

After two weeks of intermittent work, the blanket is almost done and it is enormous! It makes me look immensely productive too, doesn't it? But it's not much work than any of my other pieces. There are about one-third the number of stitches in a row of this afghan as there are in the edging. (It's just a lot heavier to hold in my lap!)

I don't really have any conclusions about why I like such a wide range of scales. I find mini and maxi projects equally challenging and equally enjoyable. I mainly just switch the strength of my magnifying glasses between them.

*I nearly had all my carry-on luggage confiscated by airport security last summer because my little case of thread crochet hooks looked like hypodermic needles to the x-ray machine. I had to show the security agent the lace handkerchief packed in the same plastic bag to show him how they were used and why I wasn't a drug dealer. The guy shook his head as he closed the case, saying, "You could do brain surgery with those hooks."

Sketchbooks

I lost the battery charger for my digital camera, and am waiting for a new one to arrive via mail order. In the interim, I thought I'd scan a few pages from my sketchbooks to show projects that might be, rather than projects that have been.

Ideas for rug hooking

I've tried a lot of different media over the years, but have settled on water-soluble colored pencils. I have a nice little travel case with about 20 of my most used colors, a couple of small waterbrushes, and some permanent ink pens. That's for sketching at home or vacation. But I always carry a couple of pens and a single colored pencil in my purse -- so if I'm stuck somewhere for an hour, I can sift through my brain and see if there's anything new to jot down.

Ideas for packaging spinning batts for sale. I did this in a Dunkin Donuts on the pages of a memo pad.

I often use my sketchbook to brainstorm the construction steps of a new project. These kinds of entries don't have a lot of pretty pictures, but they're immensely helpful for me later.

Constructing a padded sewing box

I'm not a prolific sketcher, to be honest. Things come in fits and starts -- like I'll be lying in bed at night and get an idea for something, and have to record it immediately before I forget. Once I get one sketch going, several more often come along, kind of like a packaged set. Then things will go quiet for a while.

Catching stray ideas for later

Not everything I think about is textile related, like these ideas at left for some art to stick around the house. And honestly, I don't do much actual designing of patterns and motifs in my sketchbooks. I generally do that work on gridded pads, since so much of what I do is based on square and rectangular textile structures.

Hopefully my battery charger will arrive in the next couple of days and I can show off a few of my latest projects -- most of which were not sketched out ahead of time. Ironic.

Let's just pretend...

... that I've been blogging non-stop for the past year or so. That way I won't have to apologize yet again for sinking back into the silent shadows, nor explain that a couple more pianos got dumped on my head and disrupted my life for months. Because through it all I've been quietly working on projects whenever I could, and have some stuff to show off. So, ahem, I'll just start writing again and we'll call it even. Sound okay?

The cobwebs within

I promise, I really promise, that I'll get out my camera and shoot pix of my projects. Honest. It's sunny today and it's perfect for some photography. I'll get some done

Guilty apologies now aside, I've puzzled myself about something. Remember in the last post I showed you some stuff by a British woman, Attic 24? Well, I went back to her site to look up a tutorial and noticed something: she has her own Flickr group of people who are inspired by her work (here).

When I went to see it, there were many folks who posted pictures of things that looked exactly like hers -- down to the choice of colors and even her photography style. There was something that kind of bothered me about this.

My first thought was, "That's damned cheeky of her." I mean, setting up her own fan club? Then I reconsidered. Was I judging her by the typical "don't say good things about your own work" edict that I've noticed in many women? I mean, Kaffe Fassett has a fan club. No problems with that, right? Rock musicians, movie stars -- they all deliberately cultivate followers. That's socially acceptable. So why was I bothered by this woman?

Then I browsed through some of her project photos and descriptions, and bristled when I came across comments like, "Isn't this lovely? I love, love, love my blankets."

"Man, she is so egotistical!" was my first reaction. Then I reconsidered. If you read her blog, she's just brimming with enthusiasm and wants to share it everyone. She mentions yarn and crochet hooks more than she does herself. She seems like a genuinely happy person who's found her artistic medium. So why was I bothered by this?

I've been thinking about this all morning. I realized that, as much as I'd like to deny it, I haven't fully outgrown the typical socialization that's instilled in us American women from childhood on:

The freedom and newfound abilities of the 8- to 10-year-old girl are rarely fostered in adolescence as they are for boys. Rather girls are encouraged to become proper, to fit in, to rein in the explorations they find fascinating, to become a nurturer rather than striving for competence and excellence. (William G. Huitt, Valdosta State University)

This isn't something I'd expected to find within me. When I teach, I spend a good chunk of time encouraging each student to put away their inner critic and revel in their creativity. It breaks my heart when a student shows me something they've made but dismisses its value with words like, "It's not very good. Yours is much better." And I get really irritated if someone exclaims enthusiastically, "Oh that's so nice! I hate you!" when they find out I made the scarf they're admiring or whatever. Why on earth should women even jokingly express resentment in that situation?

But isn't that exactly what I was doing when I stumbled across Attic 24's fan club?

It's a bit humbling when you discover little unattractive bits of yourself lurking in dusty corners of your brain. So, in an effort to sweep away some inner cobwebs, I raise my crochet hooks and toast Lucy of Attic 24 for her enthusiasm and sense of beauty -- and for the fearless sense of self that she's wrestled from the world.

SOAR!!

I didn't tell many people beforehand, but I attended the Spin-Off Annual Retreat (a.k.a. SOAR) this past week in Pennsylvania.

I took the Contemporary Silk Pile class taught by the wonderful and ever-inspiring Sara Lamb. Silk pile? It's the technique used to make oriental rugs. Sara uses it for small objects such as bags and hats, rather than rugs. (Check out her examples here). I've wanted to learn this technique from her for many years. It was a three-day workshop and in the end, I wound up with a tiny piece of fuzzy pile on my loom. You can't really tell from the photo, but the silk yarn we used had a wonderful, deep glow when the light hit it.

I'm now very inspired to pull my Mirrix loom. (I got it about six years ago, to teach myself knotted pile techniques on my own. But other things took over, and I never even got it out of the packing box!)

The best part of SOAR was meeting up with my old crowd of friends again. I hadn't seen most of them in four years, since the last time I taught there. I was actually hesitant to show my face, given all that's happened since 2004. How would I answer the inevitable question, "What projects have you been doing lately"? I also thought that folks might have forgotten me, since I've been out of circulation for so long. Well, neither concern was real. There were many squeals of delight and huge hugs as I quietly snuck up on people to say hello. It was so good to see everyone again. I wish I could list all of them, because I'm so thankful for the warmth and compassion they showed me. But if I start a list of names, I'm sure I'd forget someone by accident and then I'd feel really bad.

But you all know who you are, and to all of you I am endlessly grateful for helping my transition back into the fiber world.

SOAR itself was very inspiring. Being around so much talent, so many colors and textures and projects... it reminded me of how much all this meant to me and what still lies ahead as I slowly take back my life. There were still difficult moments, when memories triggered a lot of pain and I kind of stumbled inside. The first afternoon I had to go back to my room and cry for a while. But, that's just PTSD. The emotions always pass, your eyes clear up, and the laughter always returns.

I'm thinking about pulling out my old notes and writing a couple of articles for Spin-Off. Eventually I'd like to start teaching again, but for now, articles will be plenty good for me.

Cuecat is da bomb!

I got my little Cuecat scanner a few days ago from LibraryThing. And let me tell you: it is the best thing since sliced bread. Since spinning wheels. Since spinning cashmere.

The Cuecat was super simple to install (i.e. plug it into the USB port of my Mac laptop. No configuration needed.) After that, I went into my library, opened the "Add Book" page, and began swiping in the barcodes. The scanner reads the codes very easily and the interface with LibraryThing is flawless. Scan the book, let the computer think for a sec, and voila! It's in your library, complete with cover photos, publishing information, and all that other jazz. It literally takes around 10 seconds per book.

Because the existing database is so huge, it's rare that a title doesn't already have a record. However, I have a number of obscure foreign language books that need a bit more research to add. I generally find their records in the national library where they were published. And if all else fails, I create my own record manually. (There's only been eight of those so far.)

Having once been a librarian, I'm pretty picky about data consistency. (For instance, there should only be ONE version of an author's name, so when you look it up, all their books are listed.) But everyone using LibraryThing seems to be pretty careful. I've run across a few duplicate records for the same book, but it's surprisingly rare.

These past days in my spare time, I've entered over 250 books and tagged them. A tag is a personal subject heading like "beading", "knitting", "socks" -- so that later on you can search your library by topic, not just author and title.

So I'm sailing along, delighted with how easy this process is. I never imagined it would work this well.

My past work

I've assembled a photo album of some of my projects from 2000-2004. This was an intensely creative time for me. It is sometimes hard for me to look at these pictures, because the contrast between then and now is so pronounced. (See my Knitting in a Haze post below.) But I still keep chipping away, and I hope someday to return to this level of creativity.

Knitting in the haze

It takes me a long time to work up a pair of socks now. In my heyday I could knit a pair in less than two days (9 st to the inch on 00 needles). I am a naturally fast knitter. And I enjoyed sitting down with some good movies and a pretty yarn and whipping out a new pair as a sort of by-product of the contentment I felt.

Well, things are harder now. I had a breakdown a couple of years ago due to post-traumatic stress disorder. If you're curious about what that is, the Wikipedia articles on PTSD and  complex PTSD (my diagnosis) are well written and up-to-date. I mention my breakdown now, flat out, because it is still a barrier to many things in my life.

It is hard for me to stick with fiber-related activities for any length of time. Until a few months ago, I could barely pick up my knitting before I had to put it down and walk into another room. Just that simple act triggered intense emotions I couldn't tolerate.

Admitting this new frailty is very difficult for me. But PTSD is a real condition. Parts of my brain were changed (one could say damaged) by events of my life. And this limits me. I'm trying not to be ashamed of the contrast between how I am now and how I used to be. But nonetheless I'm afraid that people won't understand and think I'm just being pathetic and over-emotional.

Still things are improving. Now I can work for 15-20 minutes at a time, leave the yarn next to me, and it's no big deal. I'll take a few stitches, maybe finish a row while a web page is loading, and feel some of the old pleasure. This is a good thing. The fact that I'm approaching a blog again is another good thing. Baby steps, but in the right direction.

Testing ... one two three

Ahem... Yes. Well, uh, hello. *crawls out of hole and pokes nose into the air* It's been a very long time since I ventured into the waters of blogdom, so please understand if I'm shy. But yes, it's me, rather bewildered but still hanging in there.  For the past few days I've been finding and reading dozens of weblogs and sites -- most completely new to me. Everything is so unfamiliar. I don't even get the inside jokes anymore. But for all that, seeing these sites made me realize how much I've missed you guys and missed the daily time sink rhythm of posting my thoughts and project pix.

It's been almost two years since my old weblog, Urbanspinner, evaporated into the mists of lost internet content. It's a long, sad story and when I finally realized that I'd lost not only the original site but all of my backups... it was yet another ending for me.

But all is not completely lost. I stumbled onto an organization, the Wayback Machine http://www.archive.org/web/web.php), that collects periodic snapshots of the entire worldwide web and archives them permanently. I found that they had caught my old site in their archives. I could still read most pages and some of the photos are still there are well. I'm trying to find a way to extract the information and republish it here, but it's not as simple as I'd hoped.

So for now, here's the last version of my website homepage
Urbanspinner August 2005

And the most complete list of my blog articles. (So many of the photos are lost...)
Urbanspinner articles by category

And here's a copy of the booklet I wrote in 2002 on how to spin on a charkha.
Download charkha.pdf (1425.3K)
I had thought this PDF was gone forever, but I found that a non-profit organization in India had posted it on their Ghandi-related web site. Before, I'd have winced at the copyright infringement. Today, I was ready to kiss whoever decided to post it there.