Saying Thank You

Back in March, I organized a small group of homeschoolers to come by the ZCNYC to learn about Zen.  Shugen Sensei met us at the door and gave a wonderful introduction to the history and philosophy behind Zen.  Then we went into the zendo and he led everyone through a short introduction to zazen.  Fortunately we had two lively children - a brother and sister - who asked and answered lots of questions.  Most everyone else seemed a little intimidated by the newness of it all.  Their quiet demeanor did not reflect a lack of interest - I had lots of very good feedback that almost leads me to believe we could do another visit to keep the conversation going (but I will tread lightly here - I don't want to be seen as a Zen pusher, which are two words that do not go together well at all!).  

About three days before the visit, it occurred to me that we should offer some kind of donation in thanks for taking up Shugen's time.  I am usually a little slow off the mark like that.  In any case, I was not really prepared when the day came and went.  But it also occurred to me that among this group were many excellent knitters.  In fact, everyone was a knitter.  And I had some left over yarn from my Lion Brand window project. So, voila!  A thank you gift was born.

I divvied out some yarn to each family to knit into a piece that could be a size and design of their own choosing.





After I collected all the pieces, I put them together and crocheted a border. Some of the blocks were quite fancy!





I hope it will keep residents and visitors warm for years to come.

Turn On A Dime

This morning we were supposed to go on a Big Onion Walking Tour over the Brooklyn Bridge with a group of homeschoolers. We signed up well over a month ago and I have been looking forward to it ever since. I haven't walked over the bridge in years and years and F&L never have. The weather seems to have received the memo, because it is shining and glorious. But Finn woke up with a host of cold-like symptoms and a flushed face, so that plan had to be scrapped (it is NOT swine flu!). Beyond the disappointment was the money I had spent on the tickets. But what is to be done? People get sick and need to rest, not hike over a bridge. So it goes.

Fortunately there were a couple of other things that could be done today: laundry, post office, garden, finishing up an afghan for ZCNYC (pictures tomorrow!) and more. And I am still planning on heading to Wave Hill later today to meet up with Jennifer McGregor, the curator of their visual art programs. There may be a project afoot....

One of the beauties of homeschooling is that we can turn on a dime and adjust our schedule without too much muss and fuss. And a day at home, especially a gorgeous, sunny one, is always welcome.

(Some sweet-smelling Lily of the Valley found in a cool, shady spot in the backyard.)

Nine Bows

Sri Pattabhi Jois passed away at age 93.

Sell It, Baby!

In case you haven't noticed, I am having a huge sale in my etsy shop. All yarns are 25% off and shipping is free if you purchase three or more skeins. With prices like this, how can you afford not to buy?

Actually, I am trying to sell as much yarn in my inventory before we head to Gillams where I will make lots and lots more. Whatever is left in the shop on Friday morning will get packed up and mailed to the Craft Council shop, Devon House, in St. John's.

I am looking forward to the days when dyeing and spinning can move to the head of the line of things to do. There is nothing like seeing skeins drying on the railing to give one a sense that something has been accomplished.



Here is another accomplishment. I had been eyeing dizes (is that the correct plural form?) on etsy when I saw a porcelain one with a celadon glaze that I really liked. As I was about to click "pay now," it hit me - I take a pottery class with F&L every week and could easily make one myself. Step away from the credit card! Lo, only two weeks later, I have my very own porcelain diz with a celadon glaze.

Life, Mysore Style

Those familiar with Astanga yoga will be familiar with the two styles that are generally practiced. They are the same but different. The first is to take a led class where the teacher counts through the movements, breath, and gaze in Sanskrit and one goes through the whole (or half) series as a group, ideally with everyone moving together, breathing together and working as one single organism. It can be quite wonderful to experience when it happens.

The second way is to do "Mysore" style, named after the hometown of Sri Pattabhi Jois. In Mysore style, the student still works with a teacher but the practice is done individually, with the student advancing through the series only when they have memorized it and can complete the asanas. I have heard there is some leeway here - that Pattabhi Jois only cares about the memorizing part, not getting everything perfect, but most teachers I have encountered do consider how the asanas are done as part of being able to advance. For the most part, however, the practice is a solo practice and it is possible to have minimal interaction with a teacher.

There is a beauty to the daily repetition of a Mysore practice and it does seem to me to be a good way to make sure yoga is part of one's life - that is to say that it becomes built in to one's schedule because it guarantees that one has a complete sequence memorized. It is pretty safe to say that most of us are not always going to be going to group yoga classes for the rest of our lives and, in Mysore style, we have the freedom to take our class with us where ever we go.

I have been thinking about these two styles of learning and doing as we approach the day when we pack up and head to Gillams. Here in NYC, I have the luxury of taking a led class with some amazing teachers and some amazing students. But it is the strength of my Mysore style that keeps me going in Gillams. If I don't have my practice built in, it will disappear. I think the same can be said about zazen. In NYC, I have had the luxury of spending a little time with my teacher and sangha each week, even if it hasn't been sitting zazen. I have been able to be at the Temple, do some work, and soak in the experience of being around people who are on the same path (and well ahead of me!). In Gillams, I have some CDs and I have downloaded some dharma talks, but really, it is all Mysore style zazen there. The practice must be a strong one or it will disappear.

Both styles have their advantages and problems. The best way is to create a balance between the two so they support each other, but it is definitely a dance. A lifelong dance.

And speaking of which....

Spinnin' and Drinkin' and Dancin'

and feelin' the love for Queens Council on the Arts!

Last night was the benefit fundraiser for QCA. They invited me to come and do my talent, with my talent being spinning. I have to admit, I was a little doubtful that anyone who was attending a fundraiser that mainly involved styling and profiling and dancing (and drinking) would be interested in getting jiggy with a spindle but the supporters of the arts in Queens proved me wrong!

Here is my brave first victim, I mean, student. He seemed genuinely interested, oddly enough.



This woman was a knitter and immediately admitted that she had been avoiding spinning because she was very afraid of what might happen, the rabbit hole being what it is. When she started asking about plant dyes, I knew I had her. Hee, hee. Another one hooked!



This guy seemed to be feeling very happy. So happy he just had to spin. Actually, he just treadled and I drafted the fibres. Safety first!



Here we have an example of someone who immediately knew how to spin - her hands doing the work they knew how to do before she even knew they knew. Yes, uh-huh! I hooked her up with a spindle and some fleece, big time!



Likewise this woman.


So I would say three confirmed and two maybes. Not bad for a night's work!

Onward and Upward

Some further, highly unscientific research into the brains of teenagers (conducted while sitting around in Central Park yesterday) has revealed a couple of interesting things.  First, one mother of two teenagers suggested that the earlier the trouble, the better.  One of her sons had his moment, shall we say, when he was about Mr. 12's age.  It was difficult but everyone recovered nicely and the rest of his teenaged years were pretty reasonable.  Her other son experienced his moment when he was a bit older - around 15.  The troubles a 15 year old can get into are far more troubling than a 12 year old.  So we count our blessings, right?  But really, what causes the unhappiness and struggle is the distance between expectations and reality.  Always.

The second interesting thing was that everyone agreed that teenagers need almost as much personal attention as toddlers, despite their seeming ability to live pretty well on their own.  This must be combined, however, with a good dose of real, serious responsibility.  Just the usual parental, do-the-impossible balancing act.  If nothing else, it keeps me humble.

In the meantime, we came across this interview between Stephen Colbert and Michael Joachim.  I found it very inspiring.  If I were 20 years younger and light years smarter, I would be laying myself on their doorstep, offering whatever I had to be a part of their vision.  Instead, I turned to Mr. 12 and said, "Now that's something to do in life!"  And to my surprise, he agreed!

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Searching For the Re-Set

I am sitting here, a little chilly from the open windows, amid a cloud of smoke.  A certain someone, let's call him Mr. 12, is in the habit of putting bread in the toaster oven, setting the timer to a random time and then going off to finish that last chapter in his book.  Several dozen minutes later: smoke, fire, fire alarms, open windows and charred remains of toast.

Such is my life lately.  The 12 year old brain is promising to do me in.  I have read that the brain of adolescents rebuilds itself, which is why they can so often seem to be totally lacking in good judgement.  It seemed to such a reasonable hypothesis from the comfortable distance of age 8 or 9.  Living life with a person who is experiencing brain rebuilding is slightly less interesting from a scientific perspective and hugely more irritating.  

I have been trying to figure out what exactly about recent...um...events...that has been so challenging and I think it is the shock factor.  One day you believe that certain life lessons have been well absorbed and are thus no longer an issue.  And then you come home to find two people engaged in a physical and mental battle to the death, dinner has been dumped in the garbage because "I hate black beans," and a charming note on your bed stating "keep your crap out of my room."

Where do you even begin?  

I have been trying not to go into some automatic parental mode whereby I replicate every action and reaction that my parents had with me (not that they did such a terrible job, but there are areas worthy of improvement).   Also, it seems like some consciousness about what is happening on the part of at least one of us would be a welcome thing.   But this it is very difficult!  More than once I have had that disquieting experience of hearing my mother come out of my mouth.  And then my father.  

Dang it!  Why can't these children understand that my waters are still very cloudy over here?  Instead it is ding, ding, ding, pushing those buttons fast and furious.  Is there a pause button somewhere? 

There's Got To Be A Morning After

I lived to tell the tale.  My game plan was successful - inhalations and exhalations continued throughout.  Dare I say it?  It was even fun.  Apparently once you get me started, the only hard part is turning me off.  I blathered unceasingly for two hours, heaven help us.  

Thank you to the people who came.  There were many from among our wonderful homeschool community of friends (it felt very reassuring to see them in the front row!).  I was thrilled to see a a good number of people who participated in past projects, and there were many new faces, as well.  What a treat, in the end, to be able to share the stories behind the work.  It helps that the audience was receptive, laughed in the right places, and was knitting while I spoke.  

An extra special thanks to Patty at Lion Brand Studio for her work to make this happen.

There were many photos taken during the evening by Lion Brand and Helen set up her camera and tripod, so some of it was videotaped.  I am not sure how it will all get disseminated, but I will post any links when/if they appear.

Talk, Talk, Talk

The big talk at Lion Brand Studio is tonight (doors open at 5:30 p.m., seating is first come, first served).  I was feeling pretty relaxed about it.  At this point, I have given many talks about my work so the topic is pretty familiar territory.  Then Patty at LBS mentioned that 58 people had RSVP'ed.  Dashed from my mind were the images of sitting around with a half dozen knitters, quietly chatting about fun stuff.  Now I am armed with a power point show of about 100 images.  My goal is to breath throughout.

Maybe I am setting the bar too high?

Philosophy 101

Faith means not wanting to know what is true.

The Nietzsche Family Circus  A match made in...well...not heaven exactly since God is dead, but whatever.

And there's more:

Inference from Signs

The signs are everywhere. Last week we used up our last jar of homemade jelly (blueberry, made from berries picked in Pynn's Brook). On Saturday I experienced The Great Taboo - I purchased (gulp) commercially produced jelly. The shame of it all!

The signs are everywhere. It is time to head north!

Artists Who Knit

There was a time when I had to search and search for artists who were making real, serious (and seriously funny) work that included needlework. As I have mentioned before, Elaine Reichek is one of my biggest influences in that seeing her show, "Native Intelligence" back in the early 90s lit a spark for me from which a fire has been raging ever since. As I have been thinking about who to include in my Lion Brand talk, I realize that there are now so many artists working with knitting that I actually have to set up some guidelines about why I want to include them. The main guideline seems to be that I know their work well and have given it a good deal of thought over the years.

Naturally, I will include some images of work by Elaine. She has moved on from knitting to embroidery and other media but she remains a pioneer for the rest of us.



Two Canadian artists also have been major influences. Barb Hunt who lives in Corner Brook (how lucky is that?) and teaches at Sir Wilfred Grenfell College's Visual Art program. Her best known knit piece is probably her pink landmine replicas. For that reason, I am choosing a different piece. This is called "Amnesty" and she knit it for the Canadian Foreign Minister, who was a woman at the time. This was one of Barb's first knit pieces, so for her, it has special meaning as she began to use knitting to explore her ideas about being a pacifist and an artist.



Janet Morton is an artist who lives in Ontario. We have frequently discovered that either she or I have made a piece that the other was thinking about making to the point of being almost scary. Likewise, we have many other non-art shared interests - India, yoga, two children (a boy and a girl), environmentalism...the list goes on. Naturally, I think Janet is great! Vanity aside, Janet IS great. Here is one of her pieces called Femmebomb. It is installed at the 4 story, century old School of Human Ecology at UW - Madison. She covered it in 19 quilt squares made from recycled material, 250 crocheted flowers, 22 buttons made of pink insulation foam, orange plastic snow fence woven with pink cloth, industrial Velcro, wood rope, grommets.



I think those are three artists that I will speak about but, as I said, there are so many now. Besides their influence on my thinking about art, these three also share a depth in their ideas and their use of needlework. There is solid ground under their decision to choose knitting. Conceptually, it works on many levels. I do fear that, with the growing popularity of the "guerilla knitting" movement, some of our work is diluted a little. I want to emphasize that these artists who have chosen knitting aren't really doing it on a lark or because it is fun (although it is), but have philosophically sound reasons behind it.

One of the reasons that the "what a waste, you should be knitting for homeless people" comment is so inexplicable to me is exactly because the knitting is conceptually integral to the validity of the piece as art. Its common use - to make functional objects - is a reference point but in the same way rotting fruit is a reference point for Chardin in his still life paintings. Oh Monsieur Chardin! What a waste of perfectly good fruit! And that dead rabbit could have fed starving children!

Ok, no need to get snarky, but you get my point.

All that said, I did happen upon an image from a recent show in London.



It is a piece called "Still Burning" by Sally Spinks. So, you see, we can have fun too!

Artist Talk at Lion Brand Studio - May 7th

I will be giving a talk at Lion Brand Studio on May 7th from 6 - 8 p.m. I will be speaking about my work and the work of several other artists who use knitting as their primary medium. There will time for question and answers afterwards. Admission is free but you do have to RSVP.

For information about how to RSVP, please click here.

It would be nice to see some friendly, familiar faces, so I hope to see you there!

Spring Fever

For the past couple of weeks I have been feeling a profound kind of exhaustion, like my bones are made of lead. I have felt this before a couple of times. Once (or rather twice) when I was pregnant and several times since having children when I get a little anemic. But my usual remedies haven't been working this time so I went to my acupuncturist for some advice. She suggested it might be spring fever. Apparently, the term actually means a kind of illness that comes at the same time as spring, or with the pollen that accompanies the spring. I am not so sure that is it. It may be a thyroid thing, or just plain old exhaustion, which is not totally unreasonable given the pace of things lately. I should know more in a few days.

In the meantime, here are some pictures of the spring fever that has boiled to the surface here in Sunnyside:





Here is our version of the concrete jungle...not bad!

Bring Your Crimes With You

Lately I have been thinking a lot about mistakes: making mistakes, watching others make mistakes and how the mere whiff of possibility around making a mistake can shape one's actions. No, not one's actions. My actions.

Inch by inch by inch I have been trying to creep out from under this self-imposed rock called "shyness." I realized a good deal of what passes for shyness is really the fear of making mistakes in front of others. When I first received the wonderful gift of a spinning wheel, I forced -ahem- asked my family to leave the house so I could make all my mistakes in private. Also the loud cursing may have been a consideration. But really, if you can't make mistakes in front of your own family, then who? where?

There has been something about going to sit at the Zen Center that has pushed this issue to the very forefront of my consciousness, perhaps because so much of the experience of it has been making mistake after mistake after mistake. I remember the first time I was told to be a server for oryoki (formal meal served in the zendo). Given the long list of correct ways to do it, I was very nervous about making mistakes. Plus, one must do it in front of everyone, including the teacher and senior monastics and students, who I so dearly wanted to impress. While I didn't actually spill hot food on him, I did do just about everything wrong including tripping over a zafu right in front of the teacher. I can laugh now, but oh, it was so painful at the time.

During sesshin, Shugen Sensei gave a talk about a koan that included a line about how when you create laws, the crimes will follow: as soon as you set a rule, the rule will be broken and someone will become the criminal who broke it. He spoke about how when we come to this practice, all our crimes come along with us. Suddenly it made all the fear and nervousness seem a little silly. It is simply very, very human to make mistakes and, despite my best efforts to pretend otherwise, I am simply very, very human. So where is the problem?

I tried to hold onto this as we had our "encounters" with people on the train as part of Spindle 7 this past weekend. Keep it simple. Just person to person. From one criminal to another.

Good Footage, Good Yardage

The weekend went well. We had a computer glitch in the middle of it all which threatened to make everything very, very complicated but in the way that the good comes with the bad, it served to reveal that I had 14 days left on my computer's warantee so the $1200 repair was covered. I hate to even contemplate what would have happened if I had not had this glitch and was in Gilliams trying to work and discovered this problem...shudder.

On to happier thoughts!

One nice side benefit from the weekend was that I have become a much better spindle spinner and I actually did generate some decent yardage. I have to think about what to make with it. I have a few ideas but nothing has sung out to me as THE thing.

Here are few more pictures, taken by John Frisbie, who was accompanying his wife and daughter on Sunday. It was good to get some pictures of Marcia at work. She was truly amazing.







The person in the orange scarf is Brece Honeycutt. She has done some great spinning-related projects of her own. She has an online exhibition right now on Poplar Gallery Online. Check it out!

I need to get a rough cut of the film together by May 14th, in time for the Queens Council on the Art gala benefit. They want me to be one of the performers. No, I won't be performing Memory from Cats on a handsaw. I will be spinning! They want me to be spinning and teaching people to spin at the gala. I have visions of women in sequin gowns and men in tuxedos, all covered in fleece. Maybe they will strip off their tuxes and gowns and go native once they feel the love that is spinning! Now there's a performance worth seeing!

In the meantime, please do drop by PS122 for the exhibition Yarn Theory (Knitting, Crochet, Math and Science), which opens on Saturday. Some of the amazing hyperbolic crochet coral reef is there, as well as many other remarkable works, include our own The Knitted Mile.

Spindle 7

It has been quite an adventure, these last three days. I am grateful to Marcia for always egging me on for "one more encounter" as we came to call our experiences talking with people about spinning, fleece, wool, life, culture and what-have-you. There have been some beautiful moments.

There is much more to come, but in the meantime, here are some pictures of the last three days (video stills, so they look a little odd):


We met these three men who are Tibetan (raised in India). After some back and forth, I convinced one to try the spindle and it turned out he was a much better spinner than I am! He gave me some helpful pointers. A shocked subway car looked on...


We had gorgeous weather, taken advantage of best on the 61st Street/Woodside station platform.


Spindle 7 reflected in the window...


A woman who gamely tried out the spindle and did quite well. She spun all the way from about 40th Street to Main Street, Flushing. I gave her one of my homemade spindles and some fleece. She seemed very happy about it.


This morning, a small group gathered at 46th Street/Bliss. One by one, we started to spin. Again, a shocked subway car looked on.


This woman was more interested in watching Lucy than talking with me. So much the better!


Janet and her son, Yves, stuck it out for a full ride. Yves was unstoppable! He filled two spindles and, I think, could have kept going.


Spindle 7. Movie coming soon!

Marcia is Here! Marcia is Here!

Last summer, I met the funny and fabulous Marcia Connolly, a film maker from Toronto. Marcia was working on a film about the equally fabulous Colette Urban, who is our neighbor in McIvers as well as an artist, organic farmer and owner of Full Tilt. Marcia was acting as cinematographer to the film's director, Catherine Knight.

Pause a moment here to reflect that the reason that Catherine and Marcia were able to come to McIvers for nearly a month to make film about Colette's amazing life and performances was because they received support from the Canadian government. Yes, you heard that right - government support of the arts. For those who say they don't want to be told what art they have to support with their tax dollars, I ask you this - have you ever been surprised? Have you ever discovered that you really love something you hadn't heard of before? If you answered "yes" then perhaps government support of artists you never heard of isn't such a waste of money after all. Ok, I am done with my soapbox sermon and will stick the teat of the Canadian government back into my mouth now....ummm.....yummm.....

ANYWAY...Marcia was this incredible mixture of camp counselor from heaven and techie whiz kid. She, Catherine and Colette worked very, very hard and somehow she was still making jokes and full of energy at the of the day. So, when I thought about documenting Spindle 7, there was only one person I could imagine having with me. I was so happy when I received the funding from the Queens Council on the Arts because it meant that I could ask Marcia to be the videographer. And she said YES!

Today we start filming some solo runs in lead up to Sunday. Are you coming on Sunday? Please do!

Spindle 7 - This Sunday!

Please join me this Sunday on the #7 train for Spindle 7, a project funded in part by the Queens Council on the Arts with public funds from the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs.

Here is how it will work:

At about 10:30 am, filmmaker, Marcia Connolly, and I will board the last car of first Manhattan-bound #7 train that comes along to the 46th Street/Bliss station. If you want to join us to spin or learn to spin, you have two options.

1. Plan to be on the Manhattan bound platform at the 46th Street/Bliss station at about 10:15 am to get on the train with us.

2. Hang out at any station along the #7 route until our train comes through. We will be in the LAST car when the train is headed into Manhattan. It will be the FIRST car when it is heading back to Flushing, Queens.

NOTE: We will be documenting this event on film so it is possible you will be videotaped as part of a group. The resulting film will be approx. 10 minutes long and screened only as part of an art installation. You can opt out of being filmed.

Hope to see you!

Coming Home

Yesterday I stepped out the front door of the ZCNYC for the first time since last Thursday into brilliant sunshine. Somehow, in three days, trees had begun to flower and the whole world looked very alive and blooming. Perhaps the only way to really appreciate the loveliness of that moment was to have spent the previous three days in silence, not making eye contact, and sitting still for extended periods of time.

Sesshin felt like a plunge into cold lake water at the end of a long, sticky hot day. Despite the physical discomforts of all that sitting, my feeling is overwhelmingly of being refreshed and re-oriented in the right direction. Actually, I thought I held up pretty well, physically. All that yoga paid off - my knees, although creaky, were not burning with searing pain by the end. It probably also helped that my job during sesshin was to be a server during oryoki meals (breakfast and lunch). This job involved running up and down two flights of stairs from the zendo to the kitchen many, many times in order to fetch the food and then return it after everyone was served. Admittedly, the fire in my step was flagging a bit by the end of lunch, it did offer a nice relief from all the sitting.

One thing that really struck me this time was how amazing it is that it even exists in this world. Here we were, all getting ourselves up at 3:50 am and eagerly running down to the zendo. Eagerly! Everyone was working sincerely and very hard to make it all happen - keeping the place clean and cooking meals together. Despite the silence and lack of eye contact, there was such a strong feeling of being supported by the strength of everyone else's practice. It made those moments of doubt and fear and exhaustion feel not just bearable but perfectly ok. Zen talks a lot about intimacy, not intimacy in the romantic way, but a true kind of intimacy of knowing one's own mind and between the teacher and student, and between the people in the sangha. I really felt it this weekend.

So here I am, all back together again at home. Nothing to be done but keep moving forward.

Dig In

Before heading off into the great silence, I have been able to spin up several new skeins with the help of Finn and Lucy's excellent carding service. Just check out these three that they carded yesterday:

Merino with bits and pieces of everything under the sun.

Likewise...

Icelandic/mohair blend with all sorts of other things.


I also have been in a "spin thin" mood, so I finished up a couple of handpainted rovings that I had partially spun up earlier.

Merino/cashmere blend, chain plied.

Also merino/cashmere, also chain plied.  The rovings were dyed by Capistrano Fiber Arts.  Everything is listed (almost) in my etsy shop.

Yummers!

Fullness of Weekends

Thanks for all your great comments about Ripley's Believe It or Not. I sent them a reply asking a couple of questions but haven't heard back, so who knows if it will come to anything. I have enjoyed the very idea of it immensely.

Lucy did very well at the tournament. She achieved her stated goal and is happy. She had a great time, something that is a mystery to those of us who have sat on the sidelines of chess tournaments (eight hours of playing chess is fun? To some, it is!). Dan and Finn have many stories about the amazing qualities of the Opryland Resort in Nashville. Let's just call it a clash of cultures and leave it at that.

For myself, the weekend had other plans in store. I attended the Intro to Zen Training weekend at the Zen Mountain Monastery in Mt.Tremper, NY, which is the monastery to which the Zen centre where I sit is attached. It was an intensive weekend of zazen and workshops related to the eight gates of training that are part of the Mountains and Rivers Order. It was the first time that I have sat zazen with a group in nearly a year and, quite frankly, it was the first time ever that I can say that I really loved it. Previously, sitting with a group always was fraught with a kind of panic about not knowing what the hell I was doing and distress about a myriad of other petty things such as stomach rumblings that always seemed to loom larger than life, given the context.

This time, as we stumbled to our zafus at 5 am, I made a deal with myself to just relax and laugh at my mistakes and assorted interior gurgles. Instead of always feeling inadequate and stupid, I enjoyed being among people who were having a similar experience to me, or perhaps having a totally different experience. It didn't matter. I just enjoyed being around them. The shyness, the needing to be perfect and appear smart...what's that all about anyway?

One wonderful surprise of the weekend was to have the abbot of the monastery, John Daido Loori Roshi, come and speak to us for an hour. I had heard so much about him, all of it said with such awe and respect, to the point that I was a little suspicious. How does anyone live up to their press? But he is the real deal: he didn't take any bull sh*t and he was as clear as the cold mountain air around the monastery. He also is elderly and not in great health so it was quite an honour that he took the time and energy to come and answer our questions. I am very grateful to have been there.

This Thursday evening marks the beginning of a sesshin in Brooklyn that will last until Sunday afternoon. I have received permission to attend (I have seriously pushed the limits of Dan's patience with all my demands - please be extra nice to him if you see him). I am excited and nervous. Sesshin changes you, which is exciting. But because it changes you, it is scary as well. After hours and hours with nothing but one's own mindful of chatter and blather (it almost makes me sick to my stomach sometimes!), there is no where to go but...

Knitting Super Freak

Should I be honoured or appalled? I was contacted this morning by Ripley's Believe It or Not regarding the water tower project.

Perhaps things have gone just a little too far...

Check Mate!

I hope those are words out of Lucy's mouth many times this weekend.

She (and Dan and Finn) are traveling to Nashville this morning so she can compete in the Chess Supernationals. The Chess Supernationals (we keep calling it the Chess Supernaturals) is a once-every-four-years event in which 6000 children from all over the US come to play chess. Lucy will play seven games over the next three days. Her goals are relatively modest: to win more than she loses. I am very proud that she is excited and not very nervous about it. Somehow, she takes things in stride and doesn't get flustered about the competition. Once the game is going, she is focused and her only goal is to win. Please don't ask how she comes by this quality. Dan and I just look on with wonder and awe.

Go, Lucy, go!

Dear Dan...

This afternoon after getting home from our day in Brooklyn I checked my email, as I am wont to do of a Thursday afternoon. There was a note from the Canada Council letting me know I could check my application's status online. What? You didn't know I applied...well, yes I did back in November because, you know, I could. My project was called Knitting Sprawl and it was about using knitting to explore the current state of suburbia in Canada through various means - knitting groups in homes, special projects, video, photography. A project as sprawling as the topic itself. One giant metaphor. Because I am good at giant metaphors.

Being of a curious nature, I decided to have a look at the status.

Well my dear, the grant was approved.

So, are you interested in visiting the suburbs of Winnipeg anytime soon?

With love,

Your wife, I hope, still.

Good-bye Plane

I have been dragging my crocheted biplane project around with me in a plastic bag for two weeks. Some might suggest I spent more time complaining about it than crocheting it, but I disagree. In fact, I have been feeling quite disagreeable about the whole thing! It was semi-completed over the weekend, or so I pretended. On Monday morning I realized there was no way I could actually bring this item into Lion Brand and still hold my head high. I would have to tear it out and start over yet again.

F#@&***%$#K!

Yesterday, I left the vaguely plane-like lump in its plastic bag and pretended it didn't exist. I would walk past it and glance down at it sitting on the floor, but really, it didn't exist. I even had to shift it a couple of times to get at my drum carder and such. I was gleefully working on those kind of projects that I do when other deadlines are not pressing.

What's this plastic bag with the strange red version of Droopy Dawg in it? Huh? Never seen it before...



This morning I sent an email to David at Lion Brand admitting defeat. I like to think that I could have done it had my heart been in it more, but maybe that isn't even true. There was a good reason why I asked Sono to make the pigeons and taxis for the window. Rendering three dimensional objects in crochet just isn't my thing. The sooner I admit this simple fact, the happier we all can be. Indeed, after I sent off that email, I immediately felt much happier.

So very, very happy.

Because look what happens when you don't have to make a Droopy Dawg biplane:


Two-ply yarn from the indigo dyed fleece and some merino/bamboo fleece with lots of uncarded locks added in.


Single ply, thick and thin yarn from the madder dyed fleece.


I finally pinned up Shugen Sensei's samue to finish the alterations he requested about a month ago.


Pumpkin muffins for breakfast this morning, kids!

And for that extra clarity of mind (as if I need that now - ha!)...

Uncle Jimmy

Dan's uncle, James Nuttall, died this past weekend. He lived in Pakistan and was a priest in the Dominican order. Dan's mother, aunt and brother flew to Pakistan to visit him - a trip that was accelerated when we learned that he was failing quickly after having a stroke several weeks ago. Fortunately, they arrived before he died and were able to say hello before having to say good-bye. From the small amount of news filtering out to us back here, it sounds like he was surrounded by people who loved and appreciated him. He was buried there - his home for many decades.

Uncle Jimmy, as everyone I know called him so I called him that too, was a rare person to meet. A true Bodhisattva. When I thought about the times I met him, I realized that they hardly numbered a dozen, if that. Yet somehow his influence was huge. He was completely ordinary and thus completely extraordinary. He lived fearlessly.

Uncle Jimmy worked tirelessly for peace in big and small ways: at conferences with world leaders and in everyday conversations. Some might remember that, a couple of weeks after 9/11/01, a church in Pakistan was bombed and several people were killed. It was Uncle Jimmy's church. By coincidence, his scheduled service had been re-scheduled, so the bombs that were intended for him and his fellow worshippers fell on others. The incident made international news and he was interviewed by the Boston Globe, which would be his hometown newspaper had he stayed where he grew up. His response was to condemn the bombing but also to caution that we might get confused if we started sending out our own bombs in response. Who would be the terrorist then? Not surprisingly, he wasn't interviewed much after that quote.

There are so many more stories about Uncle Jim, most of them ending in a big laugh.

I don't know what it was like to have a person like Jimmy as one's brother or actual uncle, but I feel very lucky to have made his acquaintance. He is already sorely missed.

Mojo No Go

Last week I received a call from David at Lion Brand (do I flinch ever so slightly when I see his number come up on my phone? would it sound ungrateful to answer a timid yes?). He wants to add a plane with a banner over the skyline. We had played around with different ideas for something over the skyline earlier. Sono made an amazing Pale Male that was to carry a banner in its beak but that didn't go over well for reasons I am still not sure about. Then we talked about a sun and clouds but that never really sounded like it would look appropriate. Nothing seemed quite right so we left it empty and I thought we had put it behind us. But ring ring went the phone and next thing I know, I was crocheting a biplane: something old fashioned and distinctly NOT reminiscent of 9/11.

Or rather, I was not crocheting a biplane. My mojo had totally left me.

You see, I was spinning up a storm, adding new yarns to my etsy shop every day and thoroughly enjoying my time behind the wheel. And my mom was visiting for her 82nd birthday. We weren't doing a whole lot since, at 82, she isn't up for all the walking and hiking that go along with a day in Manhattan, but still, somehow the days were flying past and still no biplane. I made several false starts, each looking worse than the next. I played with the idea of actually confessing my inadequacy to David and bowing out of the project. But that seemed like fading at the last, most important, moment, so I perservered.

Finally, this morning, a biplane seems to be emerging my yarn and hook. No pictures yet, but this one is a keeper.

Yarn Theory at PS.122

I am thrilled to invite you all to the upcoming exhibition, Yarn Theory, at PS.122 in Manhattan (150 Second Ave at East 9th Street). Curated by Martha Lewis and Karen Eubel, the exhibition will be up from April 25th to May 17th. It includes some amazing artists working with yarn.

The Knitted Mile will be featured as the hallway installation. No, the hallway isn't that long...it will be, well, come by and see what it will be!

I don't have specifics about the opening, but I know there are some guerilla actions planned. Hmmm....maybe I should bring my wheel?

Dye Day Afternoon

On Wednesday, we spent the day with our friends Sono and Zen. The children engaged in a five-hour pillow fight (when they weren't lighting things on fire - those kooky kids!) while Sono and I hit the dye pots. Sono took the intimidation out of indigo dyeing, making it seem not only do-able but easy. My only regret was that I didn't bring over more fleece.


Here we have a 12-harness loom being used as a display area for fleece. I hope it will have other uses soon, but for now, that is a good one.




A sampling of the indigo results. What magic! Indigo works to dye the fleece or yarn or fabric only after it is taken out of the pot - it turns colour right before your eyes. I see why there is much lore around indigo. For some lovely photos of an all-natural 100% homegrown indigo experiment, click here. We didn't ferment our men's urine for weeks nor grow our own indigo. No, we just put some of the pre-ground indigo in the pot along with two other powders and the magic was ours for the taking. The other way sounds very fun and I hope to do it someday, but in the meantime, this was pretty good too.


This lovely orange colour came from over-dyeing some fleece that I dyed yellow last summer (onion skins with a tin mordant) in an Indian madder. I likes it!


This was lac - probably the least successful of our experiments, but nice on these mohair locks.


In a moment of pure inspiration at the last moment, Sono made up a pot of tumeric dye and overdyed some of the fleece that had been in the indigo - the best green ever achieved to date from natural dyes. Remember that one!

Guerilla Spinning

Yesterday evening I spun on the #7 train for the first as part of my project, Spindle 7. Not sure why I have been holding back from actually doing it...ok, I know why. I am a little scared that my spindle skills are so poor that I will just look like a fool and, damn it, I am shy! I had one of those "why do I do this to myself" moments when I question why I conjure up projects designed, as if by architects, to make myself uncomfortable. I could just be sitting at home spinning happily, but nooooo, I have to go out and make a spectacle of myself.

Every project requires that I get that thought process over and done with.

Then, I took out my spindle and fleece and started to spin. Once I got started, it was ok. I deliberately chose yesterday evening because I knew the #7 would not be crowded heading into Manhattan at 6:45 p.m. And it wasn't. I didn't try to make lots of eye contact but there weren't too many eyes to contact anyway. I did notice a distinct change in atmosphere once we hit Manhattan at Grand Central. Then I definitely got a couple of WTF looks.

Let'em riot! Guerilla spinners, are you ready??

Stroke of Insight

Although I may be the last person to discover this video, it is worth watching more than once if you have already seen it. Neuroscientist, Jill Bolte Taylor, describes her experience having a stroke. I found it fascinating that her description of experiencing the world solely through her right brain uses almost the exact same language found in Buddhism and in the Yoga Sutra to describe samadhi. I have no idea how familiar she was with those descriptions prior to her stroke, nor afterwards, but the similarities are striking.