Berlin's Whimsy

Skipping along.

My creativity has passed through phases of intense focus---- learning new techniques and mastering intricate designs--- and then other phases of just coasting, enjoying what is and appreciating the creative foundation I've already set.

I have dived down into the depths of technique while knitting cables or teaching myself to master bread baking (there have been so many outlets for my much required creativity) but on the flip-side I also need simplicity, too, like the rhythmic and zen-like quality of knitting stockinette.

I don't feel that I'm coming up with anything amazing or intricate right now. Rather, I'm spinning up other artist's imaginations in painted wool and fiddling around with the obvious beauty that comes out the other side, knitting up handspun swatches and enjoying the colors that play out in stitches. This kind of knitting is fun for me. Knitting up hats, embellishing them, dreaming about other things, spinning wool in the sunshine.... Nothing new under the sun here, but enjoyable all the same.

***I once belonged to a book club that had the tendency to choose deep "women's" books----you probably know the genre, Anne Lamotte (love her), Barbara Kingsolver, and Amy Tan (love them all). When it came time for another member of the group to choose our monthly book, he chose a dark and violently meaningless tale. I think he chose it purposefully to force a collective gasp amongst our members---a kind of literary slap. The night we discussed his book, another one of our members was missing. A creative and sensitive young man, that member didn't read all of the book. Our host, the one that chose the book, tried to explain his friend's reaction to our monthly book. I don't remember all of the description he supplied about the young man but I remember this part: some of us skip along the tops of the waves of the ocean (life) and some of us dip and dive into each crest and each trough, feeling each and every one, deeply.

That description has always stuck with me because I relate to it. I spend quite a lot of my life feeling each rock and roll---each crest and trough. When I can allow myself to skip along the crests without too much introspection, too much questioning, it's a good thing----it's a bit of a respite for my creative soul...  Simplicity in color is the speed I'm at right now, skipping along those crests with a smile...

'Shear Spirit' & 'A Fine Fleece': Reviews

It seems April is a fortuitous month for fiber lovers. I had the opportunity to look through two gorgeous fiber books that were published recently. Both books tackle the subject of handspinning, fiber, and knitting but their approaches to the subjects differ.

Lisa Lloyd's book, 'A Fine Fleece' stunned me with not only its beautiful photographs but the knitted designs and patterns were exactly what I was craving but didn't realize it. It's a pattern book I'll keep for the duration of my knitting life.

The patterns are written with the handspinner in mind but they also allow for the understanding that not all knitters spin their own yarn nor have the availability of handspun yarns. Each pattern includes a photo of the project in both handspun and commercially available yarns.

The patterns are beautiful and timeless---absolutely exquisite. I especially loved this aspect of the book because if I take the time to handspin the yarn for a sweater, I don't want that sweater to go out of style anytime soon!

These are patterns that you will turn to over and over again for many years to come---they are works of art in texture. In addition, the resource page includes one of my longtime blogging friends, Jennifer of Spirit Trail Fiberworks!

The other book is Shear Spirit by Joan Tapper and photographed by Gale Zucker. This book differs from Lloyd's book in that it celebrates the source of fiber. Through warm and luscious photos, the reader visits farms from Maine to Oregon and cannot help but feel inspired to pick up yarn and needles or even take up handspinning! There are lovely projects within this book, as well.

I especially liked the Redwoods Earflap Hat.

This book is both coffee table treasure and pattern book. It's one to carry with you to page through in the sun, dreaming of visiting a local fiber farm or even moving to one yourself.

Both of these books are works of beauty and inspiration.

"But we don't know how to make anything."

When I picked up my kids from school yesterday, I was presented with a permission slip for an annual overnight field trip. The parent's cost for each student is $100. I gasped a bit at that. Though I've never needed a scholarship for my kid's school activities before, this time I glanced at the scholarship portion of the form which stated that scholarship money was very limited due to the other options students could pursue...

I was pleased to find those other options. Students are encouraged to work to raise their own field trip money. Opportunities consisted of positions at the upcoming school fundraiser ($5 per hour) and students must interview for the each position, babysitting parents' children during the event ($5 per hour), writing thank you cards ($5 each------hmmm, I'll sign up for that one!!), and more...

It also included the option of making items to sell to parents and community members, as well as offering up your services for bidding. I loved all of these ideas, especially the school's aim to provide opportunities for students to work their way towards the field trip rather than just handing out scholarships.

When I mentioned the option of making items to sell, both of my kids whined in unison, "But we don't know how to make anything!" My son added for more effect, "Yeah, I don't think anyone's going to want to buy one of my doodles!"

I told them I disagreed and we went on to discuss all of the things they know how to make... I reminded my daughter of her drawing skills and that we could transfer one of her drawings onto fabric and embroider it and then use that piece to make a bag or some other item. For my son, I mentioned our handspun yarn and how well he can now knit. I also reminded him of his expert origami skills and how lovely a miniature crane looks on a handmade card. We're just starting to get into felting and I told them of all the things that can be made out of felt. We discussed painting and drawing and mini-quilts and hair accessories... and the list went on and on.

In the end, I said, "Yep, I guess you don't know how to make anything, huh?!"

*******

And on the topic of creativity, I know you've probably read it before, but Amanda's book The Creative Family is absolutely lovely. I highly recommend it. There are a number of reasons I personally liked it but for other readers I feel that her ability to encourage everyone's creativity is impeccable. She provides basic activities that are easily obtainable, but more than that, they are presented as a jumping off point for each family's creativity. She also describes the creative atmosphere each of us can create and nurture in our own households. Sure, I know how to sew and knit and many of the other projects within the book, but I still loved reading it because of the "atmosphere" of gentle creativity and parenting the book evokes-----it's like joining a wonderful community of mothers and families from within her words. At $10, it's a steal, too.

My hands are the machine.

Watching other quilters piece together their blocks by hand fascinated me: how are they so patient? It must take forever! But when I touched a hand-pieced quilt it felt so wonderful-----its softness uninhibited by the machine's control. And a quilt hand pieced and hand-quilted? Absolutely heaven.

I'm digging into my scrap bag and the strips of color to piece together a lap quilt. I'm imagining bold colors similar to the Gee's Bend wonders I've been reading about.

After seeing a friend take-along her hand piecing quilt project, I decided to try this myself----I love projects I can take with me.

Amazing how quickly my hands sew the pieces together. And the hand piecing is so peaceful----sitting with my kids and listening to a book on CD----compared to sitting by myself at the sewing machine.

I think about some of the stories within the Gee's Bend book I'm reading----how quilts were a part of their lives, leading to generations of quilt makers. Not only were the quilts used for warmth, but their children probably watched the whole process-----Mom cutting up your old clothes, piecing your old clothes together, her hand pressing the needle and thread in and out of your old clothes.

One of the women mentions her preference for old clothes and re-purposed fabric for her quilts, even though she now can afford new. That old fabric has a story to tell.

Though I'm using primarily new fabric for this quilt, I'm sure it will have stories to tell, too. Of Mom piecing it together by hand while sitting on the bed with her children---the colors all combining into something both beautiful and cozy. And who knows, I might cut up some old clothes for this one, too...

Whimsical Hoarding.

I'm one of those Library patrons... The ones that keep books waaaay too long. In fact, for a period of time, I believe the book is mine in the most selfish way. If I remember, I renew my books for as long as I can; however, all too often I forget to renew them, and the fees rack up. I'm sure my name is hung somewhere on the staff bulletin board as one of the founding members of the library, or perhaps the sign is thanking me for the week's supply of staff room donuts (okay, probably not, but it's a nice thought, isn't it?)!

My latest books are about quilting. Not the typical, straight-and-always-perfect type of quilting, but free form and artistic. Bright and colorful. Haphazard and creative. The quilts of Gee's Bend. (Do go check out that site and read the history---so interesting)...

My favorite of the bunch is Gee's Bend, The Architecture of the Quilt. This book describes the shapes found in this region of the country and how these shapes, colors, and landforms formed the creative basis behind these unique quilts.

There are pages of photographs of these shapes and colors and the reader can draw the line between these real-life images and their resulting quilts. I enjoy books that not only provide inspiration but also provide a bit of explanation of the artist's creative process. Often, artists use such differing means of eventually finding their artistic niche.

I don't know if I can consider myself an artist, but I do find inspiration in the strangest images or snippets of things. Such as the photo at the top of this post. Another piece of tea-dyed linen that looks rather like a crumpled up remnant of something whole. I showed my Mom and she said, "Hmmm... interesting," with a look of confusion.

I know to others it doesn't look like much, but I think there is so much potential in that little piece. Not only am I picturing adding to it but it also reminds me of one of my favorite museums of the Old West nearby. I love to gaze at the bits of old fiber there----some of them parts of old quilts that traveled the high desert in a covered wagon, or old petticoats that brushed along the sagebrush. All of them have that off-white old look to them that I love.

There is a reason I named this blog Whimsy. I go through these phases. I went through a fairly intense quilting phase many years ago. In that phase I learned the "proper" techniques of quilting. Perfectly straight blocks. Color technique. Itty bitty hand quilting stitches (my stitches are pretty "rusty" now). Now living in quilting country again with one of the nation's best quilting stores nearby, I'm feeling that muse calling me again, but this time with more of an art quilt inspiration. It could be a passing whimsy or it could be here to stay for awhile... I would love to one day exhibit some of my work.... and therefore, I will!

Meanwhile, I'll continue to hoard my quilting books from the library... 

Reading: Inspiring Quilting Books

A children's book: Stitchin' and Pullin'

The power of support.

Thank you for all of your kindness and sharing. My fingers typing away at the keyboard cannot contain the gratitude I feel after receiving your heartfelt words, prayers, and thoughts.

I know I'm not alone in this journey. Like Kate mentioned, it's a sisterhood with many members... unfortunately. And I realize now with Lara's comment that I'm not only grieving my children's loss but my own loss of the idyllic picture of family that I held firm to.

But I also recognize I cannot control others----we all have our own paths in life, our own hurdles to overcome, and our own reasons for making the decisions we do. Sure, it's not fair. Sure there will be many, many days of frustration I'll endure wondering why this had to happen to me. Yes, in my own opinion the decisions my husband made were less than ideal, but it's not something I can control. I know all of this. Like I wrote in that post, I think acceptance and letting go will be my most difficult challenge.

And life goes on... Please do watch the skies tonight for the Lunar Eclipse at approximately 7 PM PST. I've always been fascinated with the moon, dating back to my childhood and watching in awe as a harvest moon lifted up over the trees, immense and so golden just like my childhood stories of the moon made of cheese. Some of my fondest childhood memories are of moonlit nights wandering the local fields in late summer with the smell of fresh cut hay, the sounds of the night, and the full moon so bright that I was accompanied on my outings by my long shadow. So, tonight my kids & I will watch the skies for something bigger and better than our current problems...

Further Reading:

--Surviving Separation and Divorce

--In Praise of Single Parents

--Letting Go of the Person You Used to Be (thank you, Bean!)

The Moon:

--In the Light of the Moon

A Snow Day.

My kids tried every known ritual in their attempt to draw the snow god's cold & flakey gifts from the sky, forcing the most beloved of all childhood days: The Snow Day. No school.

They went to bed with their pajamas on inside-out. Nothing.

They went to bed with their pajamas on inside-out AND a spoon under their pillows. Nothing.

They went to bed with their pajamas on inside-out AND a spoon under their pillows facing North. Nothing.

They went to bed with their pajamas on inside-out, the spoon facing North under their pillows AND they went to bed early. Nothing.

And then last night, when they fell asleep without the ritual, all hope exhausted, what shall await them upon rising?! A Snow Day! No school.

And what a snow day it was. Off and on all day, we watched the heavy flakes fall from the sky draping everything in a calming hush of white. It was the type of snow that forces all kids (and kids at heart) to catch the flakes, in palms and on tongues.

I also thought about the other creatures of this snow day---the birds feasting heavily at the bird feeders outside the kitchen window and the flock of plump quail scurrying around below them. I sat by the fire inside the house politely watching them all go about their day. And I thought about their snow day rituals-----their basic need for survival. I realized how strange it was that on a very simplistic level, our needs aren't so very different. We're all creatures trying to live, trying to survive. It's beyond those basic needs that life becomes so convoluted, I guess.

Perhaps my thoughts were prompted by my current book and a new perspective on winter...

Winter World by Bernd Heinrich

Nature's Mysteries.

Something about the snow's ability to transform the ordinary mesmerizes me.

I remember as a child hiking along the nearby canyons after a fresh snowstorm and conjuring up characters from the odd shapes the snow created over everything. The snow transformed rocks into frozen looking creatures and other ordinary objects turned magical.

I was fascinated by the tracks left in the snow by little creatures, too. The Chronicles of Narnia series, The Wind in the Willows, Beatrix Potter, and Watership Down all influenced my imagination because of the secret lives of the animal characters. This is termed anthropomorphism and it was my favorite type of literary characterization back then.

I loved to construct my own miniature snow scenes. One year while suffering from strep throat and condemned to stay inside, I filled a wash tub with the first snow of the season and replicated what I saw outside----twigs for trees, pebbles for boulders, miniature toys filling in for the people and animals. My own children find miniature scenes fascinating, too, as in the example above. (Check Bella Dia for a similar activity).

As a child, I used to look on in wonder at the little animal holes underneath those snow covered rocks and along the banks of the nearby river. I believed that down inside the holes were families of rabbits: the father rabbit with a proper black vest and the mother rabbit stirring a pot of carrot stew on their little makeshift woodstove. Or the holes might house a beaver family with a cozy little haven. My imagination was the world then.

Even now, while looking out into the monochromatic forest transformed by new snow, I wonder where the animals are----little hints of my childhood magic. Are the chipmunks curled up inside a cozy hole in the side of that old Ponderosa Pine?

Perhaps snow is another one of nature's mysteries----cutting us off from much of the backwoods, forcing us to rethink what we know, and laying a carpet of mystery out for the little creatures to hide.