Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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0 Comments:Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Monday, January 26, 2009 Art and Sons. Two good things to have around the house.Thank you thank you to everyone for the kind encouragement and compliments. I indulged some more over the weekend and had a tremendous good time.  I come from an artistic family, all of us with half our brains in our fingertips. My mother, in an effort to keep competition at bay, indulged each of us in only one branch of the arts. Mine was music and I wasn't given any encouragement to try any other art form. Of course all of us were taught to sew and she did help me in my first and monumental disasterous venture into knitting when I was 17, but the sewing thing was an economic issue. Clothing – decent clothing – used to be an expensive part of people's budget. With the advent of the global clothing market decent, if not haute couture, is available to all for very little. I didn't pick up a paintbrush till 1989 when I began working with low fired clay ceramics. My particular interest was in gaily painted dinnerware and we still eat off the plates and bowls I made back then. In the very early '90's I realized that wet clay had pretty much the same consistency and absorbency as paper and tried my hand at a few watercolor paintings. I don't know why I stopped – well. Yes I do. I went into such a black spiral when my PerfectAngelBabyDarlingOnlySon graduated from high school I didn't do anything but make the people around me miserable. When I climbed back out of the black pit I didn't have any desire to make anything and it wasn't until I took up knitting again, just before the century turned, that the creative juices began to flow again. I suppose it was only a matter of time, hmmm? As for the ugly baby aspect of first attempts (note the giant skier in the picture above - half a mile behind the front one and just as tall!) - that is the hazard of being an adult. Kids don't care. They love what they do and love that they can do it. It's only us goofy grownups who think that if we can't do it perfectly the first time we are failures or have no talent. That's why I am sweeping S along with me. I know I was afraid to jump back into watercolors on Friday morning so I was pretty sure she was scared silly. I asked her and she laughingly admitted it. But she's game. She ate a cricket last summer, too. She knows I won't ask her to go someplace really dangerous and if she comes along with me, she'll probably like who she is even more than before she started the journey. The other triumph of the weekend was the completion of my Adult Surprise Sweater! Yippee. Here is an interesting view of the back sleeves. I didn't block it because it just didn't seem to need blocking. I'll block it whenever I wash it.  We've had LD home for the weekend – always a pleasure and often an inspiration. He's so vigorous and full of energy and he sees all the things his settled, frumpish, lazy parents are letting go around here ... like TheQueen's horrible garden. A tangled overgrown mess of vinca, weeds, blackberries, and trumpet vines. It had gotten beyond my ability to repair pver the past few summers and little trees were popping up here and there – a serious problem since it was built over the drainfield. “It's a perfect day to burn the garden”  “I can't. There are too many things buried under all that tangle.” “I'll do it all”  Long pause while I bid adieu to the last remaining rose bushes and whatever daffoidils are already up. “Okay”  The project ended up getting most of the yard raked too – a bonus. And now I can get Clyde's son down here to till the whole thing up and what ever's down there be darned. We'll just start anew.  |
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