getting ready for the 21st

It’s not that horrible, at least that’s what I tell myself. I tell myself a lot of things when I’m sewing, things like “I’m never doing another craft show again.” (Lie.) Things like “This is so not worth the effort.” (Lie.) and “Next year I’m just going to buy gifts for everyone and not worry about any of this.” (Lie.) and a perennial favorite “Just one more.” (Lie.)

I’m starting to not believe anything I say when there’s a sewing needle and fabric involved.

I started this shawl the evening before the house broke. It’s out of lace weight handspun gray alpaca and the pattern has been spawned from my tiny aching brains. I spent way too much time staring at fiddlehead ferns and the laced patterns on the chickens, so this pattern which has elements of both but is not completely reflective of either emerged.

If I were judge it at the moment it would be destined for a good ripping and I would salvage the yarn now. But there’s something about blocking that gives me hope that it’ll turn out, at least enough hope that I’m graphing a record of the construction praying that it’ll be a desirable pattern, worthy of this much effort on my part.

I added about 5 rows to it in the wee hours of this day. Now, I feel like that’s something to blog about.

Oh yeah, and I applied to continue my education. I’m seeking an AA with a business concentration. Cool huh? C’est tres cool, mes amis.

(Oui. My francais is hideous, thank you for noticing.)

If you wouldn’t mind praying to the dark overlords of financial aid, I could use whatever intercession can be mustered on my behalf. Thanks, I appreciate it.

We went to the dump, I think it’s such a shame that we can only leave our garbage there. Wouldn’t it be cool if people could pay a fee and take a few useful things? I know there’s Freecycle.org (hey, I’m a local list owner for Freecycle)– it does keep lots of worthwhile goods from the landfills, but it would be really nice to give the stuff just one last chance.

Next time we go to the dump I’m bringing the camera, even if I can’t take anything but pictures for inspiration, there is some fascinating juxtaposition. There was a giant teddy bear dirty and laying over bits of broken furniture and trash, there was a bent and twisted yellow tricycle not too far away, piles of brush neatly lined up next to 2x4s in a loose and sloppy stack– like a sick before and after testimonial. The discarded appliances looked so sad in their corral, like old worn down horses waiting for the glue factory truck, tucked tightly and nervously standing near together for comfort.

I have a seriously creepy imagination, I half expected cowboys (stoveboys) to come riding up on 4-wheelers and start herding those poor appliances.

Anyway, I discovered that my theme for the moment seems to be frays and unfinishing. This is a denim pocket that I made yesterday, note the perfectly mitred corner– some things are just instinctual, expecting me to *not* mitre corners is like expecting cats to treat humans with respect. But the top of the inner flap is raw (although again, expecting me to not put some kind of control in there is against man and nature, I did put a straight stitch about 3/8ths in down in order to keep the fraying in check.

Okay, I did manage to relax a little bit when making an organizer for my cutting tools. Note that the seams are all unfinished (even on the ruffle. I can’t wait until it’s been through the wash a few times to fuzzy up.

The faces are paper mache (newspaper and argo laundry starch) and polymer clay.

Is she not the most adorable thing? The t-shirt was made by the boy-child especially for his little sister.

Next is the table in progress. I only have the latest pictures although I took pictures of the “before” and each of the stages up to this point– I don’t have those pictures.

My husband copied the shortcuts to the disk by accident and then deleted the pics. Oh sure the pictures are gone, but the disk space we’re saving! Ah technology all makes it worth while doesn’t it? Never fear, there’s more work to do before I’m ready to declare it as a finished piece.

Finally there’s my little art plushies. Two plushies and a doll actually. From left to right there’s “Wish” a serious little bear with the rose bead collar (I don’t care if the beads came from the dollar store– they were totally perfect for Wish’s collar.) In the middle sits “Covet” he’s got the green eyes of envy and a yellow heart (behind Happy’s left hand), he’s got quite the scowl doesn’t he? And in the right is “Happy” he has a butterfly in his right hand and gold beads down his chest. I like Wish very much but Happy is my favorite, he just turned out just right.

Okay so what has me making this bountiful art? Well. When you hang out online with people like Mai Liis, Griselda, Vicki, Aisling D’art, Doreen, and Ash amazing things start to happen. I love the groups that we’re all on together, and always seem to find just the right inspiration just at the moment I most need it from them.

Much of that had to do with a few business decisions, such as dedicating our limited shop space to what brings in the groceries and making sure that the shop is stocked appropriately. Some of it had to do with my sewing and design burnout. A little of it was based on my personal insecurities and various issues.

I’d like to announce: Due to the intense scrutiny I’ve given my bellybutton and life in the past two weeks– I’ve decided to revert back to my true nature.

Let me explain.

Sometimes “helpful” advice and “constructive” criticisms are okay, but unless uniquely qualified to spout off on a subject, the giver of the guff is the one who benefits by feeling like an expert, while the guff recipient gets a handful (or more) of guff. No one likes guff; it’s just not a good thing.

And when guff is totally personal, and goes on for years: It’s especially bad.

That’s what I went through, but I didn’t realize it at the time. I was still thinking that the people close to me were being kind and helpful. I don’t blame those people for stalling me, I blame myself for listening to them. I am delicate, I do have a thin skin and I do my best to avoid getting hurt.

For the past three days I’ve been overwhelmingly productive. I started by painting the coffee table, not finished with it yet, but I did take some in progress pictures and I’m awaiting a paycheck to go buy the last of the paints that I need to finish it. I decided that I would try to do two art dolls. I failed and succeeded. I made one art doll and one art plushie (it could count as a doll I suppose, but I like the idea of an art plushie.) I also cut, sewed and stuffed a few extra doll and plushie cadavers, and sculpted a few female faces from polymer clay– they are awaiting my next Frankensteinian mood to bring them to life.

I feel like a working artist again.

I noticed while listening to Lime and Violet that while they raved over yarns that the word “cheap” came up again and again. This is in no way a criticism against them, it just stuck out in my mind and makes a good example– that they didn’t really mean cheap as in inferior, they meant cheap as in inexpensive.

But the word association is there. Cheap really means both inexpensive and inferior doesn’t it?

Value doesn’t really reflect the cost. Nor does it always refer to the usefulness or even the investment of materials and time. Value is subjective most of the time.

Value is affected by the world around it. Which should cost more: A gallon of gas that gets you around town or a gallon of milk? It really depends on which you need more at the moment.

Is a handspun yarn less valuable than an equal yarn from machine manufacture? Some would say yes, because the machine manufactured yarn is more consistent. Some would say no because the handspun yarn is unique in having a human touch.

Is a sweater more special from a handknitter than from a machine? Should it cost more if it is knit from an original pattern? Or should it cost more because the pattern is from a world famous designer?

These things are hard to quantify. It’s also hard to decide if crafters selling their goods cheaply are undermining the value of artisans goods which are priced based on fair labor. On one hand I’m not offended by the hobby spinner that just loves to spin selling her yarn at just above material costs, on the other hand I’m also trying to make a living and find that cheap (inexpensive and inferior) does do some damage. Not just to the pricing structure of handspun yarn, but also to the reputation of handspinners.

It’s funny in a sad way. I have several yarns I felt great about making. And when they were finished I loved them. It was hard for me to get them ready to sell because I could just see all the potentially wonderful things they could make. Measure, weigh, quantify and value– plus photograph and write descriptions. The whole time I was very optimistic.

Suddenly it just stopped. No one bought anything. Dead. Nothing.

Damn.

So over time those yarns became a source of guilt for me. Why did I bother to put so much time and effort into something so lovely and carefully made only to have nothing come from it? And then to hear compliments over it just started grating on my nerves. Compliments are awesome and I really do need the recognition sometimes, but they don’t buy food or pay the mortgage.

So I listed one of my favorites on eBay for less than half of what it is worth. And it didn’t sell. I reduced the price again. Still didn’t sell.

Now the yarn is on etsy for even less. I just want to move out the old stuff to make room for the new. It might seem like a good time to be a little bitter, but bitter isn’t my best shade so I’m hopeful; even though this is pretty difficult for me to sort out.

I’m not into cut-throat business models or giving myself slave wages, and pricing down so much does make me feel like I have to justify my decision. However, I need at least the materials costs in my stock back in order to pay for new materials and keep going on.

I have to change something.

Ahead of schedule means that I get to play a little, of course, luxury fibers don’t live unspun in baggies for long and I broke into the (drum roll please..) cashmere down.

OooOooh.

Cashmere.

I love it.

I am revelling in my accomplishments and spinning cashmere is the cherry on top of the sundae. Half a pound of lace-weight moorit Shetland. Merino sock and fingering weight yarn abounds– virgin white; waiting for the warping board and dye pot. Falkland wool hanging neatly in rows. Balls of camel singles waiting patiently for plying and washing. And freakin’ cashmere on my bobbin.

Cashmere is champagne for the fingers, effervescent and light. Best to sip it slowly and enjoy the delicate flavor of cashmere.

I’m a miscreant spinner, there’s a lot of do as say and not do as I do in spinning. With almost anything else I sample in small quantities; knitting is swatched and washed and measured constantly, wood turning I’ll happily cut chunks of wood, weigh, and turn a ball or something simple just to get a feel for the grain and resistance, when I weave I do a quick test run, even when I sew I make small samples and check my angles prior to ever setting blade to fabric.

But misbehaving spinner that I am I have this habit of considering anything around an ounce a sample in itself– and a small one at that, so my way of sampling this cashmere has been with the intent of spinning up the whole ounce in my possession and finishing the yarn to see if I like it. I didn’t tear off a foot length of single to wrap around a bit of cardboard for comparison (which I do for some yarn but not this one.) I didn’t carefully divide the fiber by weight so as to have two mostly equal balls, I didn’t spin up and ply and wash a couple of yards to have a final yarn. I haven’t attempted to card or comb it.

I’m just grabbing little balls of delicious fluff and spinning away. It’s a cohesive lace-weight single so I’m spinning it fine enough and some how managing to add enough twist despite spinning it on a double drive. I love cashmere.

I could swim in the stuff

If I ever come into huge amounts of cash I’m going to knit myself some cashmere longjohn and a cashmere camisole and live in a cashmere house. If I ever need an organ transplant I would knit the missing organ from cashmere.

I made wire and chip bead stitch markers for myself, and they are pretty– so I made some extras. I’m out of wire now and it took the life of an aluminum knitting needle, but terribly proud of myself.

The kidlets and I had fish fillet and tater-tots for dinner because Lexi likes to mix things, and I needed a few minutes to wash dishes, and darnit when you have tater-tots and fish fillet you really need to have some tartar sauce with it. Lexi loves to mix things, so my little tartar sauce mixer was occupied long enough for me to wash, dry and put away dishes– that has to be some kind of record.

Besides isn’t it fun to be a little naughty and have lunch food for dinner?

Then we had jello, or rather “Artificially Flavored Gelatin Dessert Mix”, it’s orange flavored. It’s usually disgusting stuff, but under the influence of cold medicine I’m game. I did top it with apricots in the hopes of making it a bit healthier and the apricots definitely improved the flavor and texture. I think I might have actually liked it.

Cough syrup rocks.

I wanted to show off a spindle that I turned because it’s really awesome and I love it, but didn’t want it to be “Oooh my spindle is at eBay, go buy it.” It sold right away so I’m hoping that it’s cool that I share it now, and I’m not coming off as someone that blogs merely to promote my own commercial interests. Usually Matt turns the whorls and I turn the shafts and make the hooks then we share in finishing duties. Greta does the supervising from her shop pillow.

This spindle is one of the few where I did everything but the fit up and gluing, I turned and finished both the shaft and the whorl.

There’s this perception with spinners that if you have a woodturner of your own or are a woodturner that somehow it interprets to being a happier spinner with a personal plethora of spindles. My personal spindles are the very first spindles Matt and I ever made, and one that Matt made me for Mother’s day a few years ago. I think if anything, being a woodturner made me a more conservative spindler, I know I really don’t need a collection of spindles to keep me busy, I know my style of spinning and have the spindles that fit me.I think that spinners should stand in front of a lathe least once in their lives and actually turn something (even if it’s not spinning related) just to see what woodturners put up with. Even with protective gear we get thwaps, pinches, splinters and burns, we inhale kerf and dust, we put up with bits of wood going horribly wrong and flying at chest or face at high velocity, and it takes a lot of physical endurance for the most part– 99% of the time we manage to make lovely items, that makes the physical suffering and potential hazards worth it all. Most of the time things go right, I don’t want to make it sound as if turners are taking their lives into their hands everytime they set up with a skew or gauge but we have to be careful, and sometimes– no matter how good you are– some chunks of wood are just evil.

Despite this some people treat woodturners as if they are just monkeys with chisels, or they think that woodturners simply make a master and then do all the work by duplicator. Then some a-hole woodturner on eBay supports this concept by saying “most spindle makers use duplicators to make spindles..blah blah blah.” No, we’re just better turners. I don’t own a duplicator– they are expensive, require a bed extention that isn’t made for my preferred lathe (Shopfox), and they tear the cr@p out of the wood.

I seriously don’t know the guy or his eBay username but I really want him to get a visit from the clue fairy, if he took a few minutes to do his research then he wouldn’t be such a liar. Or maybe he is a liar on purpose and just doesn’t care.

The other part that really crawls under my skin is when I do spiral work, again, it is something that might be done by machines with a g’zillion dollars and a huge shop. I do spirals when I feel like they are needed, and when I’m in the mood. I use a pencil, ruler, protractor and scratch paper to design them and then pencils, pocket knife, maybe some small files, and lots of sandpaper and time to render spirals.

You can tell the difference between spirals done by hand and those done with machines, at least I can, a handmade spiral is actually more perfect than a machine spiral (because a machine can’t feel when the density of a wood changes), there’s no trick to spirals done by hand, you do the layout, you cut wood, you do the work; the only purpose the lathe serves at that point is to act as a holder for the piece, motor turned off and unplugged.

Of all woodworking you’ll find that turners are equal opportunity, delicate wallflowers can be hella’ turners just as much as the big hairy burly manly men. Typically male and female turners treat each other as people and fellow craftsmen– it’s a long standing tradition unique to turning. Another woman woodturner told me how when she took turning classes in the mid-60s as part of an occupational program how the instructor pulled her and some ‘skinny fellas’ aside and asked that they do extra turning after classes so they could build some extra muscle needed for production turning, and that was the most attention paid to her as far as being female, given the times that’s pretty darned progressive.

It bugs me that other skilled crafts haven’t caught up with the times in that way, there are women that really freak out when they see a male knitter or men that totally lose it when they meet a female woodworker. It bothers me when people impose this artificial definition of gender on creativity, it’s just wrong and stupid for so many reasons.

I have to go now before I start ranting incoherently. I think I’ll go chop up some wood and then paint something pink.

ETA, December 12, 2006 (2:06 am): I wrote all of this myself under the influence of cough syrup.? (Just thought you should know, sorry.)

The circle cloth is getting a little out of control on my needles, as it’s out grown the cable, so Friday I will venture out (like the intrepid knitter I am) and buy another pair of size one circs with a longer cable.

I know everyone is just dying to hear an update about my box of fiber– well, we still need to find out what’s going on at the vendors end before I start pitching a fit. There might be a perfectly good explanation as to why an order given on the 23rd of October and the shipping label printed on the 7th of November still hasn’t been put in the mail.