Sunday, August 03, 2008

Electric



Here is the finished power outage yarn. Shetland roving dyed with kool aid (can you tell?) spun in a thin single with bits of Lincoln lamb locks dyed by Split Rock Ranch. Then I spun another thin single without the locks and plied them together. I have discovered that just spinning the single with the locks makes for a less than stable yarn but plying takes care of any imperfections and secures the locks in a nice way. I love this yarn and I am seriously tempted to make a hat or something out of it just for the pleasure of knitting it up. We'll see.

Much to my amazement and delight, my funky yarns have been selling very well. I sold a total of seven skeins last week and now my inventory is almost down to nothing. I need to put in some serious spinning time. Such sacrifice...

In my life I have had many jobs (I don't considering being an artist a job - a calling maybe, a pain in the ass sometimes, but never a job). I have had many, many jobs: I have been a waitress for more years than I like to admit, I have painted mannequins in a factory (a toxic nightmare!), stitched and installed high end designer drapery, done art administration and grant writing (strangely, I am a kick-ass grant writer - begging for money seems to be one of my best skills or as Dan likes to say, my grantsmanship is unchallenged), worked in special needs group homes, been a camp counselor, taught childbirth education (I am not so great at this I have discovered, perhaps because I am a little too passionate on the subject) and now I spin yarn for money. Sounds almost sexy, that.

This job I like. Let's see how long it can last.

2 comments:

Xxx. Xxxx said...

Weird mental image of you painting nipples on manikins, Robyn, which of course you wouldn't have done as they rarely have them... just know you as a leche leaguer too firmly to have left off that detail! Those details?

I could totally stretch my being around spinning yarn for money! Enjoy this for as long as you can!

Robyn said...

You crack me up Patti! No nipples, I'm afraid. I spent the good part of a summer painting details on Nutcracker soldiers for the windows at Macy's: buttons and stripes and such. You had to prove yourself before they let you touch the "real" mannequins. But I got out of there since I noticed that, by the end of the day, my mind was very fuzzy around the edges from all the toxic fumes. I often wonder what happened to the poor guys who worked there full time. yikes!