Autumn kicks my ass. Every. Damn. Year. It’s my favorite season, but it also has far too much going on. Here are some snippets to serve as placeholders until I can spend some quality time with my camera and Lightroom.  (I broke down and bought Lightroom, by the way.  Setting it up finally killed my ailing laptop–but all is well.  I have a lovely desktop that I neglect, and it has the archives of all things.)

I wove some trim for my friend Adon’s wedding clothes. It started like this, but got much better.

The tans are silk from Webs, the white is cotton from my friend Kestrel, and the cream is a gorgeous Foxfire Cormo blend.  I’ve truly fallen for that Big Wave loom of mine, by the way.  We had an excellent time together this summer.  Um, there may be absolutely no photographic evidence of that yet, but that just means I get to stalk and photograph friends wearing the spoils of my labor–always fun, that.

I got back to work on the woolalong afghan a few weeks ago. I’d paused at 25 squares, trying to decide whether to add another round of squares, since that would require knitting 25 more squares. That’s a lot of squares.  But I’ve  truly loved hunting down the yarns, dyeing so many myself, and particularly working with other people’s handspun–that’s the best bit. I finally decided that since the 25 square blanket was too short to really cover an adult comfortably, and that one day I would live in a world without a cat that eats wool, and since I hadn’t gotten all of the breeds on the list into the blanket yet, I needed to keep going. And keep going I have. I’ve done another 10 squares. Here’s the 11th on the needles.  If I hurry, I may manage to finish the whole thing in time for the KR retreat.

The yarn is a lovely Corriedale from Windborne Farms in Pennsylvania. I found it and two other skeins in coordinating colors while Clara and I were wandering around Maryland Sheep and Wool. It’s beautifully stuff. I want a sweater’s worth.

Somewhere in the midst of the making, I got to visit with Purlewe, Sue, Martha, and Beth in Philadelphia.  I love wandering around friends’ home towns with them.  We dropped in on Lisa at Hidden River Yarns, and her new shop is gorgeous.

I also made a Color Affection shawl.  Several of us got to talking at MDSW about a Sunna version, and I caved.  I used Roman Bronze, Piney Woods, and, er, some teal I forget the name of.  It’s actually finished and blocked, but I haven’t gotten around to photographing it yet.  After I chose the colors, I realized I’d inadvertently matched one of my favorite skirts, so I’m looking forward to a chance to wear them together once it cools down.

Now, I’m off to ponder a ridiculous new sewing machine and make as many bags as I can to bring to Rhinebeck.

When Tethera was in full swing, our performances at Celtic festivals tended to include question and answer sessions, because, well, we have an small, interesting and interested group of fans.  A question we got several times was: “What sort of creation myth did the Celts have.”  And the three of us would explain that while the characters are in place, there is no extant creation myth in any of the existing sources, though the invasion myths abound.  And then I’d joke about maybe, one day,  when I’d built up enough hubris, I’d write one myself.

And then I did just that—making sure to include enough signposts to make it clear that this is new work rather than a translation of an ancient text.  I haven’t been struck dead yet, so I guess that’s enough of an approval from whatever pantheon is holding on.  Here it is, particularly suited to Equinoxes, both because of the balance between feminine and masculine and old and new, but also the pairing of humor and sex. They are partners.  I wish I was telling it to you—it’s truly a performance piece, and I love telling it.

Sun came first.
This much we know.

Many many years ago
Vibrant Lugh sparked the light
That burned, one spot,
In blackest night

Brazen Lugh, an ember burning
Emblazoned on the raven orb
Recognized his wondrous rising,
As, well, something he’d not done before.
He cocked his head and puffed his chest
And crowed out to the formless dust
That he was all, and muckle, and much,
Creator of the blah blah blah and such.
—Not a poet yet, was Lugh, first met.

Arianrhod, bright wheel shining,
She so lithe and fulsome sweet
Glowed in the gloom, slowly turning
From fecund curve to ankle neat
Luscious rump to whittled waist
Sickle to orb, wrist to breast—yes
Pearly she and her snowy bed
Were there ere Lugh lit up his head.

She could not abide such prideful muck
Even spewing forth from such rich lips,
So bright a brow above them now
And shoulders broad and down below . . .
Where was I, yes, she had to go
And set him right,
That gorgeous thing that rose that night.

Creatrix, She, rose ages past,
Then slumbered much,
Finding Self-birth was a formidable task,
So close on the heels of self-conception.
“Don’t even get me started about being pregnant with my own divine ass.”
Such work demanded rest on a snowy bed
Whereupon she dreamed a ruddy stag
And he to mount an argent doe
oh, oh

And so,
She turned to him and gleamed
A mirror for his scorching beam
And thus her gaze redoubled their light
Those two who shone in endless night
She gave him chills, and he enflamed her
He warmed her through, she quenched his fever
And they came together then, those two
Whose rising warmed the black to blue
As those two Gods twined and twinned
And loved and fought,  did this begin—
Earth came
Water came
Air and land, stone and moss
Time and tide, and love and loss
And all they did gave us our place
Here below what once was waste

At least, so I dreamed it
on my snowy bed
one night, ere Lugh lit up his head
And chased away fair Arianrhod
His mother and lover, his shining God

© 2011 Amy Ripton

So I was here, and then I was visiting Asheville, and then I was here again, and then we went on vacation, and now I’m back, but drowning in projects.  And books.  But the book I really want is missing.  And Speedwell . . . . Speedwell has finally cracked.  I’ll try to catch you up.  Well, I’ll try to try.

I gave my friend Angus this . . .

And Johan got a similar one (which, yes, I neglected to photograph).  Angus’s may be the belt I’m fondest of, so far.  I love the level of contrast.  I used a variety of yarns, mostly wool with some silk and alpaca mixed in.  It’s about 4 1/2″ wide and about 12 feet long, which, yes, is ludicrous for an inkle.

And I’m wearing this .  . .

Which my talented friend Maggie made out of beautiful handmade silver luniks (or lunitsas, or whatever), Danish silver findings,  and ancient glass beads.  I fell for this when we saw Maggie and Scot this spring, and I finally cracked a couple of weeks ago.  The thought of some other weirdo wearing this made me violent–always a sign I need to hit the ATM and buy the thing already.

And knitting this . . .

A fingerless mitt, using some amazing Foxfire sock wool that I dyed last autumn.  Orange, how I love you.

And I made these for my friend Dami . . .

Which, um, I should put in the mail already.

I’ve also resurrected some old projects and am plotting a couple of new ones.  Let’s save that for later.

How the hell to get out of a photography slump.

I got a nice DSLR in 2009 and took literally thousands of pictures in Yellowstone, the Grand Tetons, and Utah. I kept chugging along taking pictures, but the better the camera, the more I felt I needed to improve the pictures I took and the more it seemed like I needed to do a little color correction or other processing before posting them. And on and on.

And, here it is, almost three years later, and I’m terrible about taking and posting photos! I’ve done hundreds of hours of work in my garden this spring and planted thousands of plants and bulbs–and you’ve seen none of it. I’ve been sewing and knitting and camping and playing with our pets–and you’ve seen none of it. I took photos at a friend’s hand-fasting in late April–LATE APRIL–and those images are still in my camera. Ugh!

So, what’s a good jump-start, folks?  I want to really improve my photography and photo processing skills, but I also just want to keep a decent document of this here life I’m living.  Any tips?  Have any photography challenges kept you clicking away?  How do I get over the hump between taking the picture and getting the image out of the camera and up on the web, already?! (interrobang!)

Updated to add a photo!  Look, proof of knitting.  These are a gift for my friend Dami–I let her pick, and she opted for hedgerow mitts.  I’ve elongated the arm portion at her request.  These are flying, but they should, shouldn’t they?  Also, it is difficult to use an ipad to take a picture of one’s own hand.  Very difficult.

After tearing the room apart and putting it back together again, I figured I should make a new studio tour video. Enjoy!

I’ve been spending most of my free time in the garden this spring, and the mild weather here has been wonderful. I know it’ll end soon, but I’m struggling to soak up as much of it as I can. Once it gets too hot, it’ll be all sewing, all the time. I’ve been tricked into making some 14th century (i.e., journalism) quilted arming stuff, and I’m going along kicking and screaming.

Also, I made some socks. Like I do.

I’ve been doing what I do: writing, singing, gardening, camping, making things, cooking things. I keep meaning to tell you about it, but I haven’t managed to sit still for long enough until today.

We went to Mississippi in March, and had a fantastic time with these folks and a lot of other friends. I was neglectful of my camera, but not my bardic work.  Of course, there’s no film of that, because that would creep me all the way out.

I’ll post a few photos here, but more are on Flickr.

The Early Period Life encampment was all a flutter with building activities, and it was amazing to watch.

The trip to Mississippi planted a seed–we’ve been talking about moving away from the DC area for ages, but we’ve finally picked a destination. Start the timers–we’re heading for Asheville within the next few years. The mere thought has me bursting with excitement and frantic to do all the projects that have to happen before selling a house and moving hundreds of miles away. I’m trying not to think about how hard it will be to leave our little house and garden, not to mention our local friends and family.

We came home from Mississippi, and then we made a cheese Sleipnir for a friend’s birthday the following weekend.

And brought it to an event I’ve been hosting for 15 years or so.

Arunedoor smiled a lot, particularly at his boy, Dylan.

Cellagh played with Dylan’s toys and made me laugh too hard for too long. It’s been a month, and my belly still aches.

And, sadly, we walked away from a site we’ve been using for decades. That was our last trip there. We’d consecrated it time and time again over the years, and my heart is a little broken knowing we won’t be back. We left our marks.

And I got to go home to a studio lit so much more fully, thanks to a kind friend.

In the wake of the last campout at our lovely old site, I of course pulled the studio apart and reprganized it. Maybe I’ll take some pictures and show you the current layout. In my spare time. When I’m not prepping my house for sale.

This is one of the warmest winters I ever remember in Virginia, and I disapprove.  I heartily disapprove.  And apparently I’m demonstrating my disapproval by making blankets I don’t need.  I’ve worked on nothing but blankets for weeks, and yet I’m kicking off the quilt night after night, wishing for a hard freeze and snow that demands attention.

The wool-along blanket was pretending to be nearly finished, but I decided I had to pick apart the squares and take out a band of lace that just wasn’t right.  Geometry smacked me right upside the head, and everything went wonky and wrong. All my talk a few weeks ago about my ease with knitting was hubris.  I should have seen this coming.  But, still, the yarn won’t be ruined and the squares have come back together nicely. 

All of my despair as I crocheted the squares together proved worth it. Unzipping the seams was much easier than picking apart feet of mattress stitch. And I think repetition is making me less angsty about crochet. I am worried about making another rank of squares for the outside. I’m on the 25th square now, and still have tons of yarn left. Using all 24 of the wools will make for a giant blanket.  Giant.  Do people use bed-sized afghans?

I also zipped through a queen-sized sweater-felt pieced blanket.  I’m not sure whether or not I’ll back and quilt it.  I made nine-patch squares with larger pieces of felt, and then sashed with strips of the smaller squares.

It’s a bit homely, but very warm. Also very interesting to the wool cat.

I think this is my favorite square. That waviness of the construction stitches is what makes me hesitant to quilt it.

My dear friend Etaine was kind enough to give me a book made by her sister Michelle, who happens to be an amazing weaver and dyer and blogger. She dyed the yarn with woad and wove the fabric, which is an emboldened tabby called “Lover’s Knot.” I think I’ve spent more time cuddling the book than writing in it so far. I need to stop keeping it so precious, but but but . . .

I finished weaving the yardage I was working on, which doesn’t really look at all different than it did on the loom. I broke down and bought a stand for the loom, and I’m so glad I did. It made the work go much more quickly. Now, I’m trying to steel myself to waulk the fabric.

Finally, I finally started on a gallery wall. I’ve been meaning to hang a bunch of stuff here since the big painting and flooring spree a few years ago, but I kept hesitating. I love it.

Maybe Yarrow will rate a frame of his own.

Oh, how I meant to show you process photos of this project. But I dinna. Because. So, instead, I’ll give you peek into how messed up my process can be. If you don’t want to wade into the crazy, look at the pretty pictures and move along–no one will be the wiser.

In short, I watched some videos and read some articles on foundation paper piecing and was reminded that I found it torturous when I tried it in the past, but that the results could be so very beautiful. Coincidentally, I also decided to finally visit Jinny Beyer’s quilting shop, which is practically in my neighborhood, to theoretically pick up some Christmas presents. Lo and behold, I was able to get some beautiful handmade silk scarves for the women in my family and I picked up a foundation paper piecing kit for a tote. It was on sale, and the samples were gorgeous, and I am a sucker for blues and greens. It seemed like a great opportunity to stretch my skills and make something lovely, and that if I hated it I could donate it and never see it again.

At the beginning, the whole project set my teeth on edge. I felt like I was being hazed. Since it was a kit that involved small amounts of fabric, I was concerned that pre-washing the fabric would leave me with too little of some of the colors to complete the spectrum correctly. I am a pre-washer. It is a nigh-religious dedication. Telling me not to pre-wash fabrics is akin to telling me to stop brushing my teeth every day. Right, so I couldn’t pre-wash the fabrics, but I would live through it.

And, while I constantly piece on foundations, I piece on fabric foundations for stability and to make geometry behave itself. Foundation piecing on paper involves so much flipping and sewing blind and ignoring grain and and and . . . Oh, the humanity! These are things garment sewers don’t do. Grain is holy. Grain must be observed and obeyed at all times. But I would have to pretend to forget about the grain.

And the directions were . . . the construction directions themselves were fine, but the cutting chart and foundation pages were originally made for a different color way and rather lazily adapted for the blue colorway. Considering the price of the kit, even on sale, that truly annoyed me. But I cut, and I muddled through the piecing.

And then came the quilting phobia. I feel incapable of free-motion quilting because it’s too much like drawing and I can’t draw. My attempts to steel myself to quilt this in any interesting manner succumbed to my wussyness, and I stitched in the ditch (rather poorly).

But once I got passed my tantrums, I was smitten. The fabrics themselves are lovely. I wouldn’t necessarily have opted for some of these prints, but the quality of the cotton and the clarity and saturation of the dyes are beautiful. And the spectrum itself was selected by someone with real color theory skill. And the points! So fun! If I could wear the bag as a dress, I would. It’s big enough that I may move into it.

Once I was able to stop agonizing over the bag, I jumped into making up the wool-along afghan. I went through my blocked squares and noticed that I had nine squares that were roughly 10″ and the rest are in the 12″ range. Since those smaller squares also happened to be in some of the softer wools and looked nice near each other, I decided to make what’s essentially a central nine patch, border that with simple narrow lace, and then build out with the larger squares. Those lace bands will also allow me to incorporate the few fingering weight skeins I got for some of the breeds.

(For the curious, it’s BFL, CVM, BFL
Polwarth, Columbia/Targhee, Polwarth
Cormo/yak, BFL/Polwarth, Cormo/Yak with BFL embroidery
I dyed all of the blue squares in this portion of the afghan)

And then–this is where I really lost it–I realized that I’d made a relatively complex knitting construction and design decision without a second thought, did some quick calculations, sketched up a plan, and went for it. All while I was recovering from an agonizing sewing project. That isn’t right, see, because I am a sewer who learned to knit a while ago. I’m not a knitter who is experimenting with sewing. Something has gone wrong in my brain, and I find it uncomfortable. I think I’ll blame the election. And possibly cut back on caffeine.

As I mentioned, I’ve been doing a lot of reading. I noticed near the end of 2011 that I had read a lot already, so I figured if I pushed it, I could read 100 books before the end of the year. I managed to read 103 books, which was fun and definitely made a dent in my guilt-inspiring to-read shelves. These were some of the stand-outs for 2011.

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro.  This book was astoundingly good.  I’m a fan of Ishiguro’s work, and this might just be his best book.  It’s beautiful and sad and hard to read but I found it impossible to put down.  I wish I could read it again for the first time.  I’m very glad I read it before watching the film version.  I did find the film beautiful and haunting, but it seemed more like an homage to the novel than a stand-alone piece.  I won’t say anything about the plot because I think it should remain pristine and unspoiled for anyone who hasn’t read it.

People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks. I used to always say that I was not a fan of historical fiction because it was was generally poorly researched and plot driven but not beautiful. I think I’ll change my tune, because that’s like the way I qualify my love for Country music. I love good country musicians, like Patsy Cline and Johnny Cash and Hank Williams and Gillian Welch. I hate over-produced, soulless crap. And I love good historical fiction, like this. Brooks’ research is impeccable, and her language is beautiful. The book follows a fictionalized history of the Sarajevo Haggadah. The opening protagonist is a book nerd’s book nerd, and it just gets better from there.

The Girl with Glass Feet by Ali Shaw. Oh, what a first novel. I haven’t written a novel yet, but if I do, and if I manage to write something a with even a modicum of the sensitivity and magic and beauty encapsulated in this strange little magical-realistic fantasy, I’ll die a happy woman. Again, no spoilers. Just fawning.

Reamde by Neal Stephenson. I’m a big Stephenson fan, but I was starting to worry that his success had made him into one of those authors who won’t consent to editing. When I heard Reamde was more like one of his earlier books, I was excited. When I actually picked up a copy, I was delighted. It’s long, but it’s fast-paced and interesting and nerdy and smart. I reviewed it on BooksForEars. Such a good book.

Happy New Year, everyone.

So, I was missing because I was busy, and I was missing because I thought I didn’t have anything much to say, and then I was missing because I was wallowing in wool. I got a rigid heddle loom. That loom plus my discomfort with our lack of winter weather plus some engrossing DVDs turned me into a complete hermit.

My first project is a simple rectangular shawl made with Kroy socks and Paton’s Classic. I used the sock yarn for the warp and just wove simple stripes.

Notice how I said “just wove?”  That’s a lie.  I bounced and giggled and tried to cuddle the fabric while it was still tensioned on the loom.  I told Kaio to look at the fabric over and over again.  (He didn’t seem impressed).  I actually let Yarrow wallow in the finished shawl–supervised, of course–because it seemed wrong not to.  I love warp-faced weaves, but they aren’t soft.  This is soft, and it has a lovely hand, and it’s not even made from anything truly luscious.  I’m holding off on the really fantastic stuff until I get my head around pattern drafts.

If you look at it up close, you can see how the thinner, variegated warp shows through a little bit.  The overall color of the warp is similar to the teal I used for the wider stripes, which is part of the reason the warp is so hidden.  I love the affect.

All that woolen, sheepy yarn turned me back towards my neglected Wool-along afghan.  I worked up a half dozen new squares once my Christmas presents were finished.

Two are Elemental Effects worsted, two are Shelter, one is Solitude Icelandic, and one is Solitude Tunis/Alpaca blend.  I didn’t need to dye any of these, which is part of why these yarns made it to the top of the pile.  With the two I’ve finished since I snapped this shot, I think I’m about halfway there.  If I really do manage to use all 22 breeds and the yarns I find keep yielding more than one square each, I’m going to have a ludicrous blanket at the end.  Ludicrous.  Yarrow will need a straight-jacket.

And this is my new loom, with a nice wide tabby warp on it.  Notice that the sliding glass door is open?  I do not approve.  It should be too cold here for such frivolous throwing open of doors.

This is more Paton’s, in the same two colors I used as the weft in the smaller shawl.  Honestly, it’s a bit thick to use as  a warp with this heddle, but since I don’t love warping, I’ll muddle through.  This time, I went for more yardage and more width but just one shuttle.

I’m waffling on whether or not I like how this combination of brick red and teal looks.  I think I like it better on screen.  I was toying with the idea of unweaving this teal weft and switching to gray. What do you think?

I’ve also been quilting, which I’ll show you next.