To Set a Course, To Change Course

The view from my company's NYC office in the Garment District. Check out the dress form.

I have not moved to New York! I just went on a business trip. 

Maybe this is strange, but sometimes I try to imagine the other paths I could have taken in life. It leads me to a lot of questions.

What is a good life?

Why would you change your life?

How many chances to we get to make a big change?

If every other step in my life hadn’t gone the way it has gone, how different would I be?

I wouldn’t be as confident in learning to sew if I couldn’t take Craftsy classes, like this one, this one and this one.

I wouldn’t know as much as I do about knitting if I hadn’t dedicated so much of my last 17 years to it. A lot of that learning process was at the very beginning, but a great deal of it has been in the last few years. Bill Bryson says, every time that he writes a book about grammar or writing, he learns a lot more about it. I feel the same way about my knitting and writing.

Whenever I have a small fit of professional jealousy (it always passes if I sit quietly and maybe have a snack), I remember that Alison Bechdel has had periods of her life when that sort of jealousy nearly consumed her. That makes me feel much better, since I admire her work.

…and I try to remember something a fellow student told me when I was in grad school. I told him I was worried that I wasn’t as good as the other students, including him. He said, “Everyone will always be at different levels. The question is, are you improving?”

I had a career that I know a lot of people think was glamorous and exciting. It could be. It often wasn’t. I know people think that because many, many strangers I met told me that they envied my job. If they counted my nights away from home, the times I felt breathless panic when my phone rang, the moments when I had to respond blandly to another person’s pain or rage, or the meals with friends and family that I had to miss, would they still be jealous?

Is the popular-culture image of the artist as a tortured soul a way for society to assuage its envy of the artist as a “non-producer”? If you spend your day chopping wood, the guy who paints may seem a bit frivolous, right? So you imagine that he’s just bent up inside, unable to do a normal job, compelled by some dark force beyond your reckoning?

I could have been a lawyer.

I could have been a full-time teacher.

I could have remained a photographer.

I could have been a more well-known knitwear designer.

I could have been a professional seamstress.

Those all would have taken a change in my life to happen.

This is pretty rambling! This is what I am, instead of any of those one things.

I’m an artist. I also have a day job. I’m happy with that. Can I always do things as quickly as I like? Do I get to pursue every possible chance to practice my art? No and no. But, that’s ok with me. Maybe I’ve seen too many freelance photographers dangle over the precipice of contracts that don’t get paid on time and living on rice to make it all work. I have security and (usually) enough resources to do what I need to do to keep myself sane.

I’m an artist. My mediums are the written word, knitting, photography, sewing, weaving and spinning. My exact relationship to each of those things is evolving every day. 

I’m learning to be ok with that

On A Cost of "Free" Patterns

I once had the wonderful experience of spending an entire week with one of my idols, Maggie Steber. I did my graduate project about her work and she was generous enough to let me stay with her as I finished interviewing her for it.

She showed me many, many collections of prints and told me about her first job in photography, at a tiny newspaper in Texas. I asked her if I could see those photos. She politely avoided my request for a bit, then looked at me and said, "It's very early work, and I don't show it."

Ah, the joys of the pre-internet days! I'm watching people discover my free patterns on Ravelry and it's nice that they're queuing and marking projects as favorites, but...it's early work and I almost wish I couldn't show it!

Most of my free patterns don't have sizing. Some are rather hastily written. All were edited just by myself (and maybe read over by one other person for any really obvious problems). None of them are particularly bad, but if people are taking them as examples of what my work is like now, they're definitely getting the wrong idea.

I learned a lot from writing those patterns, but now I feel as though all of my past sins are right out there, in public, for all the world to see. I just have to hope that people are looking for the good in them, and not just any problems there might be.

If you've found this site because of my free patterns:

...but please keep in mind that they were works-in-progress!

Interview and Giveaway at Simply Socks Yarn Co. Blog

Allison was one of the very first people who looked at my little list of sock heels and toes and said, "Hey, shouldn't this really be a book?"

...and she backed up our coffee-fueled musings by being the sole source of yarn support for Sock Architecture. I will always be grateful for that, and her friendship.

Over on her blog, you can read a whole lot of my jibber-jabber about Sock Architecture and enter to win a signed copy of the book AND two skeins of her fabulous Simply Sock Yarn Solids, to make a pair of your very own socks. You have until 9/26/14 to enter, so hop to it!

My Home Office

If you had a long weekend, I hope you had a great one. We had a rainy couple of days, but it was really nice. I spent some time in my home office space, which the previous owners very thoughtfully built into what was a closet in the guest bedroom. It's practically perfect in every way, with lots of little cubbies and spaces for my knitting things (note my model foot tucked away).

My co-workers are kind of lazy, though. Sometimes I can hear them snoring behind me, on what they think is the best cat bed in the world. 

I answer a lot of emails and even sometimes browse Ravelry on my phone, but there's no substitute for a computer on a desk, to me. It's just more comfortable. Maybe it practically looks like the work equivalent of driving a model T, but I like it!

Sock Architecture - Ready to Buy!

Sock Architecture is now available for purchase! $16.95 for the PDF version, $26.95 for the PDF and printed book, together. Printed books should start to ship in a few short weeks.

https://www.cooperativepress.com/products-page/books/sock-architecture/

I'm told that the link above might not work forever (there is some behind-the-scene streamlining happening on the site). So, if it doesn't work, try just http://cooperativepress.com/.

I hope you love it!

Dyad Socks

With the Dyad set, I finally opened up a little color into the equation. I don't have anything against socks in multiple colors. In fact, I really love them! But, with this book, I really wanted to have fun just exploring the different shapes possible when knitting. Deep playing around with color will have to wait for another day. 

I chose “dyad” as the name for these socks as a kind of reference to my thought process.
I wanted to explore the easiest way I know to make a two-color sock: one color for the heel and toe, and another for the rest of the sock. I was also eager to use a band heel and a toe to match.

In Sock Architecture, they are worked both from the top down and the toe up in five sizes, plus a plug-in-your numbers size.

Dyad Socks, Top Down

Why It's My Favorite: Working in color blocks is an easy way to add color and even stretch a leftover skein of yarn, if you don't have enough for an entire pair of socks! The sideways toe and the band heel look great together. They are both a bit unusual, but easier than they look.

Dyad Socks, Toe Up

Why It's My Favorite: The band heel is fun and can be worked with or without a gusset. I also love the sideways toe that matches it so well. The single line of contrasting color around the front of the foot is a little different, too.

Adjoin Socks

Adjoin Socks

Why It's My Favorite: I love this heel construction, which looks so different, but fits so well! I swear, even Dee has happily worn these, and she can be a bit...particular. The cast-off at the back of the heel may look a little strange, but it is easy to work and allows the knitter to avoid grafting. If you prefer a different look, you could graft it, too. 

The toe is a little unusual, too. I designed a "training wheel" toe-up toe for people who aren't in love with Judy's Magic Cast On.

I would love to see it worked up in a self-striping yarn. The front of the foot, if colors are managed well, could look completely uniform from top to bottom!

If you're not crazy about the stitch pattern, you can leave it out.

This is the only pattern in my book that can only be made from the toe up.

Sock Architecture Cover and the Yarn

The work on Sock Architecture continues apace. The team at Cooperative Press and I are pretty excited about it!

...and just in case you're wondering, all of the sock yarns in the book are Simply Sock Yarn Solids by Simply Socks Yarn Company.

Allison, founder of Simply Socks and generally all-around awesome person, supported my book from the get-go and even helped me choose the ten colors for the socks. I'm a bit scared of color and was worse when this project started. If it had been up to me, I probably would have just run the gamut from Brown to Natural!

I can't say enough good things about this yarn, and I swear it's not just because it's in my book. I made Dee's Moss and Diamond Socks using that yarn and, after 2 years and 9 months of being worn and machine-washed at least once a month (I machine-wash most socks and hang them to dry), they really almost still look brand-new. It's soft, tough, reliable and not too expensive. You don't find all of those things, at the same time, very often. Also, seriously, check out the stitch definition on that particular pair. AMAZING. 

Sock Architecture

I don't know if anyone else remembers, but over a year ago I took a (non-matching, very small) pair of socks on a trip with me and did the usual knitter-normal things like put them on landmarks and take pictures of them..and put them on Twitter, with the tag #GreatSockAdventure. If you like, you can see more of them here.

In the lion's mouth. OK, it's just a cool-looking door.

It was mainly because I couldn't tell you about my other Great Sock Adventure, and the fact that those two little guys weren't alone. They were part of this crowd.

Safe at home.

Which is kind of a long way of saying that my recent silence hasn't just been because of the move. I have been feverishly working away at finishing my book. It's called Sock Architecture. Writing it has been quite an adventure, and I can't wait for other people to see it. I love it, and I'm not just saying that because it's mine. I keep printing out pages and using them as a reference in my own knitting bag (not just when I'm getting frantic emails from test knitters), and I think that's a pretty good sign.

I'm going to explain it more and share as much of this final process as I can, but just for starters, here's the basic book description:

Sock Architecture is perfect for both experienced and novice sock knitters. This thorough, imaginative collection of sock shapes and patterns to try includes 17 toes that can be knit either from the top down or toe up and heel shaping techniques that can be combined into 26 ways to knit a heel from the toe up and 68 ways to knit one from the top down. You're bound to find at least one or two new favorites!  

Choose the best shape for a perfect fit, add a new technique to your bag of tricks or simply try out a different look for your hand knit socks. All the heels and toes are carefully explained and clearly photographed, and you can plug in your own numbers to work at the exact size and gauge you want.  

If you'd rather just pick up the needles and start knitting, Lara designed 17 patterns for Sock Architecture. Most of them include 5 sizes, from women's extra small through men's large, and an adjustable size. With the adjustable size, you can choose your own gauge, size, or both, to make socks as unique as you! 

Lara also demystifies popular sock-knitting techniques and gives you tips and tricks that could only have come from the mind of the creator of Math4Knitters. Terrified of grafting? Love afterthought heels but hate retrieving those tiny left-on-hold stitches? Adore the look and fit of your usual top-down heel, but hate picking up gusset stitches and dealing with that weird little hole at the top of the heel flap? There are tools and methods to make everything easier, and Lara explains them all.  

Jump right in to this ultimate guide to the world of sock knitting!

I'm so happy/terrified/proud/excited that I can barely sit still. Good thing I've got my knitting.

P.S. - Sock Architecture is available for purchase!

Sometimes I Agree With Travis

Things are starting to settle down now, but it will probably be a while before things feel normal. I don't remember having this much trouble getting a house put back together before. Then again, maybe I'm feeling more pressure because I have more happening in other areas of my life than I did. I love the new direction my career is taking, but it is definitely a different kind of headspace.

Some days, I agree with my little scaredy-cat Travis.

I like it under the covers. It's nice there.

One thing I haven't found: the hard drive with all of the Journal Gazette Crafty Living patterns on it. I might have to spend some serious time downloading pdfs in the next few weeks! That will teach me not to back up to the cloud.

A Quandary

Everything you see on my Ravelry designer page that says "journalgazette.net" is a free pattern. Come July or August, the Journal Gazette is changing over how it does its website, so all of those links might (or might not) stop working. There are ways to archive a website and keep old links working, but I'm not sure that a newspaper will want to do that. After all, yesterday's news is, well, old.

That's over 150 patterns. You can kind of tell which ones were from my really early days. A few are, frankly, embarrassing.

I was able to make them, and provide them for free, because my employer allowed me to use work time to write, format and post them. (They asked me to do all of the knitting at home, and I did. I also paid for my own yarn.)

I'll admit: some of them aren't great patterns. Even the ones that produce great finished products aren't written in the most standard ways. Only a few have sizing of any kind. Most of them don't even have page numbers. That doesn't sound like a big deal, but it can be if you're a little tired and don't want to think more than you have to. Many of them use handspun yarn or yarn that is discontinued.

I don't want the patterns to just go away. But...

To justify spending time reformatting, rewriting (using a real, live style sheet!) and suggesting alternative yarns, I would have to charge for the patterns.

I love the thought of updating things, and maybe offering them in collections.

But, will people hate me for what might look like charging for patterns that used to be free?

What's In A Name?

Briefly, when I was a kid, I wrote poetry. I loved writing. I hated choosing titles for poems, though. When I became a photographer, I simply called everything by the numeric system I had developed for filing my negatives.

I worry about naming things. A lot. I know names matter, so I worry about picking a good one.

Fortunately, I have clever friends. I described the above hat, which is made in 12 sets of 12 rows, to one and she said, "Well, that's a gross."

There you have it.

The So Easy It's Gross Hat.

No one else has used it on Ravelry, either.

(Yes, I always check.)

Looking for Inspiration

I worry about writer's (knitter's?) block a lot less than I used to. Creative work takes practice. The more you work on it, the easier it is.

This isn't one of those swatches. I was too disgusted to take photos of them.

However, sometimes I just can't get the process to work. A design call went out a few days ago from a company that I love. They create truly delicious yarn and I would absolutely freak out if I got to design for them.

I printed out the call, looked at their inspiration boards, and sat down with my sketchpad and pencil.

Nothing.

"Ok, I can do this. I'll try again."

I read over some old knitting books that are full of techniques. Sometimes a technique is enough to set me off on the path to a design.

Nothing.

I swatched a little. It can't hurt. I made four different swatches in different yarns on different needles. A cowl? A hat? Socks?

Nothing.

Blugh. I guess working with this company will have to wait. Maybe I'll have a better time connecting with their next set of ideas. I don't want to force it and end up with something I don't like.

Remembering My Nana

Almost two weeks ago, my maternal grandmother, who we called "Nana," passed away. I feel blessed that I had a chance to see her before she went, and return to Oklahoma to see her laid to rest.

Snowglobe of T-Town.

She was from a very small town about an hour from Tulsa. I keep trying to think of how I can eulogize her properly. My mother did a great job, here.

Under a brilliant blue sky, we met to eat, talk and remember her. Here are some things that I remember:

Nana believed that every person, but especially children, needed spare time and a quiet place to think. Good shoes and a warm coat were also important. For at least some of her childhood, she didn't have any of those luxuries. 

Constant Comment tea with lemon is delicious, but coke from a glass bottle is a special treat. 

The back of your work is as important as the front. You know what's there, even if no one else does. (Embroidery and quilting ran in the family. My knitting is a modern affectation.)

She would get up at 4 a.m. to bake fresh pies for Thanksgiving dinner, because everyone loves freshly-baked pie.

Always respect all people, no matter what. 

Yellow was her favorite color. I was thinking of her as I spun this:

She was gone before I plied it. 

In fact, she loved bright colors, wherever they appeared. A cardinal was a thing of joy. A daffodil, a blessing.

I love you, Nana. I miss you.

It Happens...

I have a new pair of slippers: Sherwood Slippers.

They are a little less structured than some of my others, but I really like them. I decided I wanted to offer sizes, this time. They go from women's small to men's large. Knit on large needles, they are a super-fast knit. (This is good, since every relative who has seen a pair wants some.)

I sent the pattern out to testers and got some notes back - the slippers were unusually large. Like, maybe a whole size larger than I meant for them to be. The ones I knit, in women's medium, fit my size 8.5 feet and Dee's size 6.5 feet (with socks), so I couldn't figure out what was wrong.

I popped open the spreadsheet and fiddled with numbers. I had accidentally figured out the circumference needed for the slippers by using the length measurement. Whoops! No wonder they were too big. I worked up some revisions and will try again...

Design Inspiration: Mediety

“Mediety” means one of two mostly equal parts. I made it as a test to see how far I could take modular knitting and also because I love the way garter stitch looks when it is sideways.

This sweater is made in two halves that are then joined. Both halves start at the top of the shoulder, then raglan increases create the beginning of the sleeves and part of the fronts and backs. Sleeves are knit seamlessly, in the round.

Finally, stitches are picked up and short-rows in garter stitch are made to bring the fronts and backs together, provide waist shaping and create an interesting neckline. I think that garter stitch removes the need for wrap-and-turn or other techniques that reduce holes at short-row turning points.

A knitter who is already comfortable with working  raglan shaping with ribbing, short rows, and  garter grafting will, hopefully, find this to be a very easy project. Knitters who want to have those skills could use this as a learning project.

I used a bunch of test knitters on this pattern. The tech editor I wanted to use wasn’t available at the time, so I released the pattern in “beta.” If you buy it and find a mistake, let me know and I’ll refund your money.

Book Folder, #1

This is the first folder for the book. It's stuffed with yarn samples, swatches, and the scribbles of my notes on quasi-patterns as I knit through what I wrote. I hauled it around in my knitting bag. In quiet morning moments and during lunches alone, I wrote out, by hand, my ideas and formulas, trying to peel back three-dimensional shapes into sets of numbers that made sense.

Stapled into the front of the folder: every receipt for all of the yarn provided for Simply Socks Yarn Company. Stapled into the back: a chart of foot/sock sizes.

When I started revising the book, I made a new folder. It allows me not to be so overwhelmed, but I can still keep my old notes in case I need them for later.

Journalists are terrible about either keeping or losing everything. I'm trying to stay somewhere in the middle. Still, something tells me that I will hold onto this folder for a very long time.

Cider Apples

I read this poem in high school and it has really stuck with me. 

After Apple-Picking

BY ROBERT FROST

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree

Toward heaven still,

And there's a barrel that I didn't fill

Beside it, and there may be two or three

Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.

But I am done with apple-picking now.

Essence of winter sleep is on the night,

The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.

I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight

I got from looking through a pane of glass

I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough

And held against the world of hoary grass.

It melted, and I let it fall and break.

But I was well

Upon my way to sleep before it fell,

And I could tell

What form my dreaming was about to take.

Magnified apples appear and disappear,

Stem end and blossom end,

And every fleck of russet showing clear.

My instep arch not only keeps the ache,

It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.

I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend.

And I keep hearing from the cellar bin

The rumbling sound

Of load on load of apples coming in.

For I have had too much

Of apple-picking: I am overtired

Of the great harvest I myself desired.

There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,

Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.

For all

That struck the earth,

No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble,

Went surely to the cider-apple heap

As of no worth.

One can see what will trouble

This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.

Were he not gone,

The woodchuck could say whether it's like his

Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,

Or just some human sleep.

---

I don't know if it means this to anyone else, but I have always interpreted the "cider-apple heap" as the drawer where one stuffs the work they have done that someone else says they don't like. Poetry, writing, and knit swatches have all had their cider-places in my life.

You know it's worth something. Maybe the idea will rise again. Maybe the exact same thing will look like a golden apple to a different judge.

But...but...

It's harder to look at the thing the same way. Even if it is not "not bruised or spiked with stubble." It's harder to see its worth once someone else has seen it and said, "no thanks." (Or worse, said nothing at all.)

Call Me Kip

I'm reading The English Patient at night, before I go to sleep. As usual, if you like the movie, you'll probably love the book, since it's better.

I have something in common with Kip.  I work better when I have music to focus my mind. It has to be in a language I don't know. I wrote, and am now revising, my book while listening to various versions of Don Giovanni.

I'm glad I'm untangling my own mistakes and cleaning up words instead of bombs, though.

Writing, Revising, and Startitis

A tiny preview of something in my book.

"Startitis" happens for a reason. Casting on a project is way more fun than sewing on buttons or darning in ends, at least for me.

I'm working on the first round of edits for my first book. I say this hoping it will not be my last book. I'm on the stage that feels like choosing buttons. I'm not even to sewing on buttons, yet!

Editing, even though it is so important to good writing, isn't quite as much fun as writing, for me. It takes discipline. You have to love and hate your writing at the same time. Love it enough to spend time reading it carefully. Hate it enough to cut, delete, and change it.

There's a saying in the news business for a hard-nosed editor: "She doesn't mind killing other people's words." (In reality, that phrase is put in a way that is much colder, but I don't want the Google results that might come up if I use the one I know best.)

It is painful to realize that I have written something out in 2 pages what I can re-write in half a page. But, it's exciting to see that half a page when it is finished...and to realize that the half page maybe wouldn't have been possible without the 2-page draft that came before it.

I felt better about my ambiguous relationship to rewriting when I read A Moveable Feast. There's a section where Hemingway damns Stein's writing with faint praise. He writes about her great affection for writing, and how much she loves turning it out on a daily basis. But. She doesn't edit, rewrite, or even read her proofs for herself.

"This book (The Making of Americans) began magnificently, went on very well for a long way with stretches of great brilliance and then went on endlessly in repetitions that a more conscientious and less lazy writer would have put in the waste basket."

OUCH! I hope no one says something like that about me. I know some of my weaknesses. I tend to hyperbole. I use too many words when fewer will do. I'm trying to fix that, now.