Query: Can you do yoga in a skirt and heels?

A thoughtful friend, who also happens to lead professional development workshops for social workers on occasion, invited me to teach an hour of restorative yoga to a group of said social workers yesterday.  They were working on training towards some kind of certification and, at the end of the day, she wanted to offer them an hour of "self-care".  That last bit was very thoughtful of her, don't you think?  She knows that social workers have very high pressure/low appreciation jobs and burn out isn't just an abstract idea for them.

So, with my shiny, new certification, I entered into the lion's den.  It wasn't quite that bad - for one thing, social workers tend to be extremely nice and caring people - but there were a couple of things that my friend neglected to tell me.  She had mentioned that there would be 45 of them.  La la la...no problem!  We will just stick to very simple movements and lots of breath work.  She also told me that probably none of them had done yoga before and possibly about 20% of them would not be able to get down on the floor.  Ok...chairs and simple movements and lots of breath work.  Oh, but she didn't tell me that she wasn't going to tell them about the yoga portion of the day, so naturally many of the women had on skirts and high heeled shoes.  And some people simply had no interest in yoga, period.  And the room was a bit small for 45 people to stand in, let alone to whip out the mats that she had very generously provided for everyone.  They were all pretty psyched about the mats, however.

When I arrived and quickly noted the situation, I realized that I had to scrap about half of my class plan.  Because, however wonderful my teacher training was (and it was!), we never talked about how to teach yoga to 45 people in a small room, where half the people are in inappropriate clothing (for yoga), one of them is pregnant and a handful prefer to remain seated with their chins in their hands and a look that says, honey, if I wanted to move my arms around and visualize the moon on a still pond, I would NOT do it here at work.  And PS. I don't want to do those things.

Needless to say, it was an excellent learning experience for at least one person in that room yesterday.

There Will Be Yarn

For a long time, I have been lamenting my laziness.  Somehow, I just never seemed to get around to spinning yarn for my etsy shop.  How can this be?  Too much wasted time on the computer?  Daydreaming out the window when I should be applying myself?

Yesterday I realized that, perhaps, it wasn't total laziness.  Maybe it was, in fact, busy-ness.  Because now that teacher training is over, suddenly I find myself listing yarns in my etsy shop.

Over 600 yards of lace weight Rambouillet!

A wee skein - only 56 yds - also of the same Rambouillet.

A gorgeous bulky two-ply.  When I made that orange and black skein for my friend's hat the other day, it was so fun to knit up that bulky two-ply that I decided that I must share the love!  Made from a Widdershins fleece that was 80% BFL and 20% silk.  So soft, it is like a dream!

And check out this dreamy shot.  Currently under production...some Shetland lace weight.

It is nice to be back.

The Dawning of A New (Old) Era

April may be the cruelest month but, for me, it will be the busiest month.  Suddenly, the deadlines are stacking up.  It's all good, as they say.  Actually, I hate it when people say that...it isn't all good!  Sometimes, it is bad!

Whatevs, as they say.  Right now, it is all good.  I would go so far as to say it is awesomesauce.

First up in April will be a participatory performance project of an alliterative nature done as part of The Brooklyn Museum's First Saturday program.  I am pretty excited about this since approximately 10,000 people attend these events.  Yes, you read that correctly - 10,000.  Excited might not be the best word for how I feel about it, but let's keep it at that for now.

More on that project later, today I simply wanted to acknowledge that I just ordered sewing patterns for historically accurate dresses from the American colonial era as part of a video project I am creating.  This is all part of the ongoing collaboration with four other artists on the subject of war, revolutions and the Battle of Brooklyn.  A new group exhibition on the subject will be installed at the end of April.

Is she so rosy-cheeked and happy because of all that food?
Or because she knows her garments are made with 100% historical accuracy?

For many months, I have been feeling like my work is shifting in its direction but mostly that feeling has been just that - a feeling.  I haven't taken many actions towards making it real.  So plunking down cold, hard cash for costumes for a video feels like something.  

Ideas.  I have Big Ideas.

Where is this all heading?  I have no idea but I guess we will find out.....

Post-Grad

It's official.  We had our 500-hr graduation ceremony, which consisted of our teacher giving us our certificates of completion and a copy of a chant that she selected for each of us.  She chose a chant that related to our practice or reflected something about our training and where we are at now.

For me, she chose a sloka from the Bhagavad Gita (so not really a chant but it can be chanted).  Here it is:

karmanyeva adhikaraste ma phaleshu kadachana

Your right is to action alone; never to its fruits at any time.  

Stick that in your pipe and smoke it!

Meanwhile, on a lesser note, there was knitting involved.  In this tradition, we use little stick figures to explain the practice we create for each individual.  Each asana is drawn out with little symbols for inhalation and exhalation so that the person doing the practice at home can follow along until they memorize it.  So I made our teacher a hat with the little stick figure in padmasana on it.

And then, because she managed to have twins in the middle of the training, I made two more hats.

Inhale

Exhale

And then, we had a party at a lovely space in Brooklyn.  Lots of delicious food such as hungry yogini's would want.

And then, those babies test drove their hats.

I think they like them.

How To Be Satisfied

Each year, the Struts Gallery and Artist-run Centre in Sackville, New Brunswick (Canada's oldest!), holds a fundraiser on Valentine's Day.  Called The Sweetest Little Thing, the fundraiser involves sending artists a piece of masonite (I think it was around 6" x 9") and inviting them to create something with it, in anyway they see fit.  This year, I decided to cut it up into pieces, drill holes in it and paint it.

The question of how to be satisfied is one that I think about a lot.  What does that really mean?  I had a lot of opportunity to consider this as I ran up against obstacles at every step along the way of making this little piece. 

First, I do not own a saw, so I borrowed a saw.  Then, no drill, so I went to the hardware store and bought a drill.  Then, I thought we had paint, but nope, no paint.  Bought new paint.  Then, I swear I thought I had loads of copper wire, but wrong again!  No wire.  Bought some wire (they didn't have copper and I didn't have the wear-with-all to search around for copper).  Whew.  Finally, the piece is done.  And a bit late.  So, to satisfy the deadline, I will overnight it to New Brunswick.  

If you would like to own this very satisfying piece while at the same time helping to support Canada's oldest artist-run centre, place your bid here.  Well, it isn't up yet, but go there on February 14th.  You, too, will be satisfied.

Tidy Up Time

When the kids were little, we always had "tidy up time" at the end of the day when they would help put away their toys and things so that the living room returned to something ever so slightly less than total chaos.  My mom started this tradition when we went to Newfoundland for the first ever time in 1997 when Fin was only seven months old.  She got him to help gather up his things before bedtime - she even made it into a game that was fun - and the notion stuck with us.  These days it is a little harder to motivate the wee ones (ha!) to pick up their things and sing "tidy up time!".  Personally, I just like the word tidy.  It is so...tidy.  In Newfoundland, there is a contest called the "Tidy Towns" contest.  Gillams has never won and I must confess that many of the towns sporting signage that they were once the winner of this title are a little...um...boring.  Sorry, but it is true.

Well, call it tidy or call it dull, my week has been all about tidying up.

First, heavens be praised, I finished my 500-hr teacher training.  I can hear the shouts of joy and relief!  My apologies if I have ventured into "unbearable" with all the yoga talk.  It has been an intense and wonderful year.  Finishing is definitely bittersweet.  Happy to have my weekends back, sad to not have a reason to be with my fellow YTT's, a group that I have grown to love.  And sad to not be looking closely at all aspects of yoga from all angles.  Fortunately it is a lifetime of learning.  I will try to keep the sharing to a minimum.

And second, I de-installed my piece in New Haven.  In addition to many hours of quality knitting time on MetroNorth, it offered an opportunity for some artsy do-nothing photos. 

According to the curator, many of the passers-by in downtown New Haven eagerly embraced the message, some even raising their fists in the air and shouting "Do nothing!  Yah!".

My work is nothing if not a crowd pleaser.

For me, however, this piece was as much about considering what it might mean to do nothing as it was a deep appreciation of the suction cup hook.  Will I ever create something that uses 450 of them again?  I can only dream.  

And you have to admit, it was a pretty tidy solution.

Last Call for Nutmeg Staters

The exhibition, Instructions Not Included, curated by Martha Lewis at ArtSpace in New Haven, CT, closes this weekend.  There is a cocktail reception and artist talk on Saturday evening, so come if you can.  And it will be the last chance to see my piece, Do Nothing, in their front window!  Don't you love that they have a bench installed there so that you can begin to do nothing right away?

Yes, but with wool

Because...

...you can never have too many stripes and...

...someone needs a colourful, soft hat.  

(BFL/silk in a bulky two-ply spun from a hand painted fleece from Widdershins purchased almost one year ago in New Mexico - can you believe it?)

The Middle Of January Is A Perfect Time For A Celebration

A man for whom a birthday cake is an apple pie.

Rarely sighted and even more rarely photographed -  a genuine smile.  Must be that bowl of whipped cream waiting nearby...

Sixteen and Smokin'!

Finn was not the only one to celebrate and be celebrated.  Based on no factual evidence whatsoever, we decided that Finn's birthday would also be Olyve (I have been told it is spelled this way) and Webster's birthday.  F&L made them matching Kitty Kat Krowns.

Webster was a little confused about the proper way to sport a crown.  Later, he also batted it about and chewed upon it.  

Olyve was a little more...compliant, but I see rebellion in her eyes.

Happy birthday to them all!

Chanting and Breathing and Magical Thinking...You Know You Wanna

We are coming down to the wire with teacher training.  This weekend is one of the last ones where we will be still receiving instruction - after this, it is almost all testing.  This weekend does include some testing as well - the dreaded chanting tests.  I haven't memorized them all but I have tried and I have learned a lot since we started almost a year ago.

I feel a huge, new appreciation for what chanting can teach us.  It is a very good memory tool but, perhaps more importantly, chanting can be a way of giving someone a voice.  It sounds a bit obvious, but there is something very powerful about simply sitting upright and chanting something with intention.  I am no singer - not by a long shot - but I have learned to chant in a passable voice.  When it all comes from my head or even from my throat...yikes...head for the hills.  It sounds dreadful.  But when it starts in the core and moves upward it is something else altogether.  This has been a very useful thing to learn.  Also, to learn to not be afraid of my own voice; to feel like I deserve to have a voice to be heard.  I fear that I am not the only woman on the planet who has spent a lot of time feeling silenced and, ultimately, growing comfortable in that silence.  It is no small thing to feel confident about being heard.  (For more on that in a different, yet related, way, I highly recommend this article.)

I see the look of horror on people's faces when I mention that we could chant in class, and I recognize it with total sympathy because it was my face not so long ago.  It has been such a liberating thing to learn to chant, even in my somewhat sad ass way, that I feel some compulsion to push people's comfort zone a little in that area.  It isn't about encouraging more "look at me!".  We have way too much of already in the world.  It is about encouraging people to occupy the ground they stand on.  It is impossible to chant with one foot out the door.  You have to commit fully to it in the moment it is happening and I think we could all use a little more practice with that.

Today, as I did my practice, I was very aware of moving with my breath very slowly - I think I take nearly twice as long as most people in the room - especially for those first ten sun salutations.  I did a breath count at one point and it was about an eight second inhale and exhale, which is still less than the ten second count that was traditionally recommended.  I see some people moving so quickly through their updogs and downdogs that I wonder if they are breathing at all, but I guess it is their practice to figure that out.  In any case, what really struck me today was how much energy I often put into maintaining tension in places that should be relaxed, like my face and my shoulders.  "Release your face bandha!" one of my teachers sometimes says.  Sometimes he just says, "remember when you first started coming and your neck muscles would be bulging out because you were so tense.."  Yah, yah, yah, we all have our issues.  It only has taken me three years to absorb the message.  We can't all be such quick learners.  Today I tried to really let go of needing to hold up the world with my jaw and my neck and shoulders.  Remarkably enough, I was much less tired by the end of the practice (and the world was still standing).  In fact, I felt quite invigorated.  Huh, who would have guessed?

That experience made me think about all the energy that goes into holding up the world, or maybe just myself, when I mentally bring a sense of tension and holding to my various identities - Robyn is an artist.  Robyn is a good mother.  Robyn is...fill in the blank.  Whew!  How exhausting.  Maybe some of that valuable energy could be put to better use elsewhere.

I know, crazy talk, but just maybe....

Deficiencies, Empty Promises and the Cold, Hard Realities of NYC Real Estate

On our way up to the Monastery for Christmas (because, really, who does Christmas better than Zen monastics?  Seriously - we even had a cranking dance party where we raved until the late hour of 9:15 p.m.), I told my car mates to remind me to take photographs this year.  I told them that, if I was not seen with my camera in hand, to ask me what was wrong with me.  Then I changed that question to a statement: they were to tell me "There is something wrong with you."

Of course, I did not take one photograph.  The next day, when I complained of this situation, my former car mate (now dorm mate) said, "There is something wrong with you."

Sangha treasure indeed.

At least this year I lucked out once again with my sangha treasure secret santa gift recipient.  A known knitter with a love of water.  Could it get any easier?  I dusted off my drum carder and spun up a skein of watery thick and thin (no pictures of that, either).  

I have missed you, dear drum carder!  I promise, promise, promise that we shall meet again.  Soon.

Meanwhile, Lucy has created a kitty kat kondo.  A 2BR duplex.  No doorman but excellent views of the food bowls and an easy commute to the litter box.  After a short bidding war, a victor emerged.

Happy Cappy

Non-attachment to Results or How To Make New Year's Resolutions That Really Work

Dear Readers,

I know you are curled up with the warm glow of your computer and saying to yourself, "The new year is upon us...I wonder what yoga asana Robyn is planning to dedicate her year to working on?"  Well, far be for me to deny you this critical information.

In 2013, I will be taking the backwards step and re-visiting the asana that I was dedicated to 2011:  bhujapidasasna.  It has been kicking my ass for two years and I wholly expect it to continue in 2013 but I humbly submit to its will.  It has slowly been improving (key word: slowly) so let's say that my goal is that I will be able to come up from my forehead on the floor (still not ready for chin action) without falling over on my behind 75% of the time.  Modesty is key in this endeavour.  But, to up the ante just a wee bit, I will add that I will begin trying to jump from downdog into tittibhasana to begin the posture.

Sorry, I don't have any photo credit for this, nor credit for the amazing person doing tittibhasana here but I hope you share my admiration for this man's remarkable ability - it's not so easy at any age.

If you don't know what the heck I am talking about...congratulations.  It is dull stuff, really.  I have done this two years in a row and somehow that seems justification enough to bore you for another year with it.

Lucy, on the other hand, tossed modesty to the wind and made a list of 17 resolutions this afternoon.  I was pretty excited since they include wanting to keep her room clean and spending less time on her iPad.  By this evening, however, she had already downgraded some of them to "wish" or "priority" or "just a good idea".

Once again her wisdom belies her years.

May we all be wiser (and more compassionate to ourselves and others) in 2013!

A Yarn for Grown-ups

Some months ago, I purchased two Rambouillet rovings from Ani at Widdershins that she had painted like this:

Beautiful, right?  But somehow, as I was spinning the first one, I started having doubts.  There was this grey blue and this mauve colour and I just couldn't imagine how they would go together.  I mean, I don't think Ani specifically chose mauve because she is the least mauve person that I have ever met.  Still, sometimes when one begins to draft hand painted fibres, certain colours just appear like unwelcome guests at a party.

As my bobbins filled, I seriously began to wonder if this would be a dud.  It happens to the best of us.  I was spinning the Rambouillet extra thin and with lots of extra twist after the blooming madness of the previous one - I wanted this lace weight to really be lace weight.  So I was investing a good amount of work in this roving, all the while wondering if it would be a grey and mauve mess at the end of the day.

I plied it with extra twist as well, and even while I was plying it, I was saying to myself, " I don't know..."  

But lo and behold, after a good soak to set the twist, what to my eyes did appear?

It is beautiful!  I would go so far as to say gorgeous.  Stunning, even.  Sure, sure, you can have your reds and pinks and those flashy colours that are always standing up and shaking their booty at you.  Well, sit down and be quiet because I have my sophisticated colours here.  Honey, you have to understand the subtleties and the nuances of life to appreciate what this yarn is offering.   Adolescents need not apply.

Because I did a poor job of dividing the roving evenly, I had a lot of leftover on one bobbin, so I chain-plied a small skein.

Another lovely lady.

I mis-read you, my dear.  Can you ever forgive me?

MIsh Mash

I am posting this photo for no specific reason other than it is of Colette.  Those with long memories may recall that she invited us to take a snowshoe/spelunking tour of caves outside of Corner Brook two years ago on her 60th birthday.  It was an unforgettable day but time with Colette often ends up in the "unforgettable" category.  She is now in Ontario receiving chemo treatments and seems remarkably upbeat.  She has a strong network of support that spans the globe so I know she has lots and lots of love and healing thoughts beaming down on her.  Let's keep it up!

On a more frivolous note, Lucy went on a tour of a couture wedding dress design house in Manhattan the other day.  Dorina does a lovely job of sharing it here.  Lucy was a bit iffy about going but she was happy to spend time with her friends so she went.  When she returned and I asked all about it, she described the dresses and the process and the expense.  Then she said, "They were beautiful but it's only one day in your life.  I mean, the important thing about getting married isn't the dress or the party, it's the person you are marrying!"  Yello?  Where does this wisdom come from?  For all the teenage angst that has been surging around me - and my dear, it has been surging - this was one of those moments when I told myself that everything is going to be alright.  Even if Lucy is flipping burgers or, more likely given current circumstances, divvying out our daily lentil ration, she will know how to manage her life in a positive manner.  (As an aside, I always think it is a little strange when people say things that indicate that I have done a "good job" as a parent if my children manage to get into to college and find some kind of employment.  I mean, those things come and go, as does happiness itself.  So when is my job finished?  When does it get labelled a success?  Or failure?  I mean, what if they have a terrible mid-life crisis?  Is that (still) my fault?  These questions haunt me.)  In any case, I am always grateful for these glimpses of maturity that signal that whatever happens, both she and Finn will have the good sense to do what needs to be done whenever it needs to be done.  

And from that...a little knitting content.

I may well be the last knitter on the planet to make this scarf - there are nearly 12,000 projects listed on ravelry - and for that reason alone I resisted for years.  Then, when we were in Santa Fe last February, I had a little incident in a yarn store.  I put the bag away when we got home, embarrassed that I, too, had succumbed to Noro's seductive colours and the allure of such a simple but enticing concept.  For months I ignored that bag and it ignored me.  Then, the siren song became louder.  Although I subscribe to Elizabeth Zimmerman's opinion about K1P1 ribbing, the power of these simple-minded but oh-so pleasing colour changes has me happily cranking out oodles of it.  I am sure there is some kind of Zen metaphor in there somewhere - doing this thing that I don't actually enjoy because I just want to see what's coming up ahead - but I can't be bothered to think about it because I am too busy making this annoying ribbing because I just want to see what is coming up ahead.

At least I know that I am not alone in it.

All is Calm

Well, not really.  Clearly there is no limit to how we will cause suffering to ourselves and each other.  May I suggest that one thing to do is to do our ordinary tasks but minus the usual mental narrative.  Nice, if you can manage it.  It gives plenty of room for feeling sadness as well as joy.

With that in mind, we put up a Christmas tree and we all took delight in the ornaments, the little twinkly lights and the most excellent smell (even if it is the smell of a tree in the process of dying).  

Lucy actually called me a buzzkill the other day.  What's up with that?  And how did she even know that word?

Olive, who is quite good at at doing things without mental narrative, found delight in a pile of recently scoured Shetland.  She has mighty good taste, that cat.  The Shetland is part of my experimentations for The Project in Which I Bitch Slap Richard Serra (But, You Know, With Wool) (working title).

A veritable beehive of activity.  

Please, I encourage you to embrace the darkness as well as the light of the season!  It all will pass swiftly by.

Healing Thoughts Needed

My dear, dear friend Colette is very ill.  Colette has influenced my life in ways too numerous and subtle to be able to tally them up.  This is remarkable in its way, but she has done this for so many others as well.  While most of us have dreams and imagine the time when we might take a risk and try something big, Colette dreams it, then she goes and does it.

You can see some of her work on her new website and on the website for her artist centre in McIvers, Newfoundland, Full Tilt.  Colette lives life at full tilt.  She is force of nature.

Consumer Cyclone from Colette Urban on Vimeo.
Clip from her performance of Consumer Cyclone.  Filmed as part of the full-length feature film  by Katherine Knight about her, Pretend Not to See Me.


Please get better Colette.  We all need you so very much.

Must Have Been Some Breakfast

Did my yoga-related haiku make you want to gag?  Just a little?  Well, here are two from a young master of the form, Ms. Lucy Love.

Pancakes are awesome
But oatmeal raisin cookies
are despicable.

Today already,
I have eaten pancakes and
took the train.  What else?!

Don't know about you but I feel better already.

Knitting Sweaters Like Normal People Do

Since 1955, Loes Veenstra knitted over 500 sweaters and stored them in her home on the 2nd Carnissestraat in Rotterdam. The sweaters have never been worn. Until today.

Het Verzameld Breiwerk van Loes Veenstra from Christien Meindertsma on Vimeo.