six and a half stitches

HOLEY DECONSTRUCTIVISM

Like many, I sighed a huge sigh of relief when post modernism died. To be honest, at the time, I was tired of writing more essays about the playful interpretations of geomatric shapes, literal translations of form, and garish use of colour. Deconstruction was a fabulously decadent reinvestigation of culture, form, theory and use of material. But then minimalism came along - strong defined intricate details belying the apparent simplicity of result, parred back and essential. Minimalism shifted in turn towards something either far more rigorous and articulate, or more gentle and textural.

And I find now, I waver between numerous styles, and I wonder if that isn't somehow cheating. Should I be more rigorous in my approach, should I be more defined? Is a conglomeration of thought and style equal to it's own set of guiding principles....

There are certain themes, and processes which come back to be played with time and again with me. I have explored a few ideas with circles.holes.curves recently - in pockets and scarves, in some folding techniques that have yet to see the photographic day - and now in some knitting.

This is my deconstructivist piece - reinterpreting neatness and detail into something which is purely structure based - anarchy of stitches being let slid into ripped back ladders [] gaping holes tearing through and being reformed [] loose open weaves of linen married with unstructured stitches, each fold twist and overlap bare and exposed. Constriction and openess alongside each other. There's a rawness about this which I love - a natural rawness.

Pattern [] border edge of Cobweb Lace Stole, in Linnet Lightweight Linen. More photos [] at flickr

And unsurprisingly, it matches the cobwebs that I've been needing to remove from the cornices for the last week...

I HAVE WOVEN

I have woven molten metal [] to form branches and roots and tangled vines of thought, stitch, words, and time. I have fixed in place [] wide angles and solidity against metal shards in the form of buttons. I have created [] a piece of warmth, of shelter against wind, of squishy kindness, of soft wool envelope: a cowl, a scarf, a wrap.

And it is beautiful and warm.

MOVING TOWARDS WHITE

Oh I have really enjoyed hearing how everyone stores and organises their fabric! I've always felt somehow that whatever I was doing was intrinsically wrong....because of course there is a wrong and a right way of doing it...but I am heartened to know the 'throw it in and see where it lands neatly' approach does appeal to some out there. My organisation is haphazard, and fluidly organic. I tend to do situation organisation - piles of fabric that go together for colour, or texture or project, or just because I like the look of a particular pile of fabric on a particular day, and then it gets moved to a box or - I can say this now - the chest of drawers [don't be fooled, there are still many, many boxes]. Wool tends to be on a favourite basis - whatever is capturing my imagination in any 6 month stretch, but I know needs a bit more rigour.

My room is looking so much brighter and cleaner and it's slowly coming together. I took down all the pictures so I could start again on the walls as well. Just a few more things to clean, like the lampshade above which needs a good dusting, and some piles of paper which need sorting. I have a pile of japanese craft books I want to sell, so over the next few weeks I'll photograph them and see how best to deal with that. I can now walk between this room and the children's room and feel much calmer about this little house, which gets over run with toys and miscellaneous excrament far too quickly, and far too often. Next up - our bedroom which has become the new dumping ground...

In my clearing haste though, I didn't factor in a technical hitch which saw all the items in the shop be delisted. What is left has been relisted at greatly reduced prices. I would love them to go to good homes, because they are incredibly beautiful and wearable pieces. And I am now moving all my patterns across to Ravelry for sale. Full information will be on the pattern site when I have completed the move including information on support for previously purchased patterns and how to purchase if you're not part of Ravelry.

SIMPLE CLEAN

Cleaning is good. Cleaning is excellent. So is clearing. Add sorting and organising to the equation as well. Very productive. Despite the chaos I live amongst, I love clean lines. Simple clean lines. I long for a house with those same lines. I long for long open rooms with white walls, clean furniture, and key elements displayed. Until my children grow up and we hire a skip to take away years of accumulated 'stuff', I live through clean lines of photographs, and simple vignettes.

This weekend I cleared out the children's room - cleared away toys not being used, or broken, or without a real play need (you know the ones) and suddenly the room is bigger, crisper. So I filled it back up with furniture which was supposed to be in there, but had been living in the living room until I cleared. There's always a knock on effect with clearing isn't there. The result of that is that I ended up having one complete chest of drawers (clean, simple, white drawers) standing there empty.

Over the last few weeks I have been clearing, and sorting, and cleaning my sewing room. It's a mammoth task in a tiny room. It's the dumping ground for the entire house, and so when it gets revolting in there, it really gets revolting. I have thrown, sorted, charitied and given away huge amounts of stuff. I now have room to lay out projects once again, gather piles again, and start some long put off projects. Despite the massive clear, I still have huge amounts of stuff.

Except now it's in a big white clean simple chest of drawers.

I'm really interested to know :: how do you sort your fabric and wool? As it comes out of the package/bag? By colour? By type? By brand?

In a final effort to clear, I have reduced the remaining items in my shop in a bid to empty it out and start again with new stock and new ideas.

MUFFINS FOR SOAKING

Pia and I are curled up on the couch, soaking up sun streaming through the windows, and she is hot, floppy, and sick, while I am wondering whether she'll let me knit, or blog, or sleep as well....a load of washing is soon to be hung to dry, and another put through, catching some of that sun to dry before dusk and the temperatures fall. We have baked muffins, mini ones and large ones [] delicious 'oat and apple streusel cakes' from Little cafe Cakes. And they are good, so good there are very few left....perhaps just one more left, for sitting in the sun with. Shhhhhhh - Pia is alseep -

- perhaps just one more -

- and I can knit -

A DAMN GOOD FROLICKING

I like a good frolick. Frolicking though, doesn't always fit into the tight time schedules demanded by school, life, dinner, anxiety and financial pressure. But when I do frolick, I frolick with abandon. And so I frolicked. I frolicked down laneways. I frolicked through cafes and through lattes and breakfasts. I frolicked with conversation, and enjoyed the frolicking conversations of others. I frolicked with wool - stacking and piling colour coordinated poems of colour and texture, of which only a small amount was destined for me. I frolicked with pieces of silver beaten thin and etched precisely with small patterns. I frolicked with metres of antique japanese kimono fabrics, and watched as others frolicked through racks, shelves and bins and found their own antique treasures. I frolicked with even more fabric in crisp whites and greys [lotta jansdotter] and truck loads of Liberty print. I frolicked myself out.

A years worth of frolicking in one weekend. Excellent.

HERE WE GO ROUND

What little things in our childhood do we remember? What is it that makes some things special to us, while others get left behind deep in our memories.

I remember picking blackberries from bushes growing by the side of the road. And picking strawberries from the small patch in the garden. I remember warm gooseberries [and custard] off a wild bush tucked near the back fence. And I remember wearing anything that had images of strawberries on it.

I want for my children similar idylls which can't be recreated because of geography, time, culture. Instead they will take with them memories of other things which will have just as much glorification. My boy will remember trains, perhaps, the open fire at his grandparents house, riding on tractors and maybe even billy cart races with his friends. My daughter will remember the idol of her older brother [let me dream], making sure dolly gets tucked up in bed properly, and perhaps even the overly extensive wardrobe her mother hand sewed and hand knitted.

I cannot seperate my desire to have played a part in the creation of their memories. I selfishly look to the things I make as holding the promise of memory. And for me, the joy in treading softly around knitwear patterns has been the desire to share a possible memory with many of you. I don't make for the sake of making - I do so because it invokes something terribly maternal, or terribly personal which may find resonance with others through stitches.

So here - to Mulberry Bush. A wonderful eclectic slightly retro capelet for a small child or baby. Warm and snuggly, but eminantly able to be worn while sliding, running, swinging, or playing quietly with toys. A graphic item, using woven panels to highlight assymetric collars and off set openings.

Something to pick berries with.

RESPECT FOR THE WEAVE OF MOLTEN ELEMENTS

You have to respect cables. They demand respect. Not in the same way that an intricate lace pattern commands respect, but in that utter life cycle ritual of knitting through the ages kind of way. There is something captivating about the urgency of wrapping and weaving tubular currents leading upward, outward, entwining around. Something grounding in all that - from and of the earth so to speak. Cables used to be stories of celtic history, interwoven stories of family history, lineage [how utterly appropriate] and relationships, and I think you can't help but acknowledge that as you turn each cable.

And let's not forget the texture - that nobbly 3 dimensionality, squishy and proud at the same time. It begs to be traced with fingers, begs to be intertwined even more as it wraps around your neck....wonderful Olga for thinking through this pattern of folding and entwining cables both as a textured pattern and a way of being worn.

Returning to celtic origins though, I am struck by the metallic 'elemental' nature of this purely based on the small collections of things that keep working alongside this project - if I take this notion of being from and of the earth, and understanding that metal is elemental - hard, yet malleable and pliable, born of rocks and molten elements within the ground. Fitting then that the wool is colour 'granite', matches a rough earthenware bowl in a dark black glaze that keeps me company most days (usually with snacks in it to nibble while knitting. One must always have good snacks) and works in tremendously with metal buttons picked up last week for something entirely different. Molding the knitted fabric to contort, ease, and wind. Bit like jewellry making. Exactly how many concepts can I get in one post I wonder. But it's that idea of primal pattern making, drawing on nature, weaving a story of it's own through texture which really excites me and makes the meticulous charting of stitch and cable so much more deliberate, so much more alive.

SMOCKISH

So it transpires that I knit when I need soothing comfort, mindless hand occupation and something to focus on rather than the world crushing in on my head. And so it also transpires that I sew when I feel the sun creeping gingerly through the windows, and the weight lifted slightly, and the energy courses to complete something quickly. The denim skirt went down so well - both as a satisfying sew, and as a finished product on small child, and while the sewing machine was out and running, I did a little top to work with it. The fabric was gifted from Di recently, and I knew I wanted to do something smockish. Isn't that a great word - smockish! But maybe with a little more detail. This little top, from another japanese craft book, is simple, yet has lovely gathered details across the shoulder seams and in the elasticated armholes, a simple linen tie at the front, and the cutest fabric design. Worn with a dark grey long sleeved top, the denim skirt and grey leggings.......this child breaks my heart.

Now the only question is, which figure illustration do I like best - the elephant, no, the lion, no no, the rabbit, or maybe the cat....

or the lines of dots....

or the apples....

ALONG THE BACKSIDE

Couches are for jumping on!

Cushions are for throwing off!

Walls are for drawing on!

Food is for scattering around!

Rocking Chairs are for reaching to!

Cameras are to be avoided!

Faces are for making dirty!

Denim is for: little A-line skirts with shoulder straps and cute buttons worn with grey knit tops and leggings. A deep dark almost charcoal denim, heavy weight, with absolute structure, with the most adorable shoulder straps, held along the high waist band at the front with little tortoiseshell buttons, and finished off with a gocco'd 6.5st tag at the back. I followed the pattern exactly....apart from the addition of elastic at the back to keep it on and make it fit against her body, and I deleted the zipper so it is held closed with a hook and eye.

I want to make more....but first, a little top to go with it.