Leaves

While in Sri Lanka, I started photographing fallen leaves.

Particularly the ubiquitous, symbolic bodhi leaves, but also just leaves.

When I got back home, I was spinning leaves - the Leaves of Grass colorway by Yarnwench

I'm spinning the second half on my Turkish spindle.

 

Apron à la Amy

Just finished this fashion apron from the Amy Butler 

Barcelona skirts pattern 

(two separate links - the first one is pure candy.)

It's really just an excuse to see all these great fabrics close together.

From the top down: Anna Maria Horner (that will be the A-line skirt underneath the apron - yet to be sewn); Kaffe Fassett; Amy Butler (love this Japanese meisen-inspired stuff!); Kaffe Fasset; Amy Butler.  A delicious fabric salad, that sat in my cupboard for way too long, until the other day I suddenly started cutting,

then sewing,

with growing excitement until the final topstitching.

It's a very clear and well-written pattern, easy yet thorough.

Here's the reverse side:

It was a bit windy when I was trying to model this on the roof, but it shows both sides at once.

Two reasons to be happy about knitting

Reason 1, the selfish:

I knit a fitted set-in sleeve, without a pattern or even premeditation, which properly fits not only the armhole of the sweater, but my own body.

Some background:  this particular sweater has been on the needles for nearly a year, and projects that linger tend to acquire weight - as in, unwelcome burden sort of weight.  Something that seemed delightful and fun in the beginning becomes questionable: is this really going to work?  Is it going to look as good or be as comfy as I thought?  This sweater was in the throes of such doubt, purely as a result of too much time languishing in a basket and being passed up for fresher projects.  So the success of this sleeve, the utter surprise of nailing it, redeems both this sweater and my confidence in my knitting.
Now I just have to do it again.

Reason 2, the global:
These children in Gaza.
A few of them are wearing hats I made.
(bring your tissues)

Stitching

Now that there's a lively discussion going on*, and people may be peeking over here to see actual work of mine (she said hopefully), I'd better get some more recent photos up.

I've been stitching.

The act of "putting in stitches," as Willia Ette Graham used to say, has been calming and comforting.

The stitches form a language, recalling past rhythms and moments,

but also asserting the present,

keeping me quietly here.

Those little marks?  Little dashes skipping and meandering through the uniform structure of the woven cloths?  They make me so happy.

*If that link is no good, use this one instead.

A sky

So I'm not doing the photo-a-day thing, nor have I made any resolutions or otherwise acknowledged that this is a new and different year, but I am trying to pay attention and notice things, and this sky had to be documented.

We don't often get interesting skies here in Doha.  For most of the year, we're excited to see any clouds at all.  But in winter, there's the chance for some actual weather, and it all manifests in the large, open sky.  I noticed these lovely brushstrokes of cloud while driving home, and then immediately went to the roof.  The torch tower for the Asian Games 2006 is on the left, and another unattractive tower is being blocked by the detail from our own rooftop.

Seriously.  Around here, this is meteorological excitement, folks.

Look

I got out my vintage art supplies recently.  Sakura Cray-Pas oil pastels, given to me by either my grandmother or my great aunt Grace.  There's no date on the package, but I know I've had them since childhood.  They've clearly spent more time in storage than in use, but their colors and packaging are very familiar to me.

The colors of my knitting wanted to play along.

Malabar Coast

How romantic does that sound - the Malabar Coast. 

The Lakshadweep Sea.

I waded in it, and it was very warm.

Spent a week in Kerala, and saw so many beautiful sights, but first I want to indulge my penchant for beach pictures and talk about the Alleppy beach.

Totally wanted one of these kites, made of single sheets of mylar, with videocassette tape tails.  It was a Sunday, and lots of people seemed to be headed to the beach in family groups.  Heh - I actually thought it was a bit crowded when we arrived.

Further up the beach, though, it was more solitary.  For some reason, I never get tired of the beach footprint photo.  Evokes the whole thoughtful barefootness of being there.

We were not really alone, of course.  Roving groups of young Indian men approached us and competed among themselves to act ridiculous.  But then, while I was doing a little spinning,

a decently-behaved set of local youths came and started chatting with my husband in broken English.  They asked him what I was doing, and I demonstrated how I was turning loose fibers into string, showing them they way twist enters the fiber.  They were delighted, and one kid pulled out his phone to get a picture, then decided it really called for video.  So I have actually been videotaped spinning on the beach in Alleppy, Kerala, South India.  If anyone sees it on YouTube, you have to let me know.

(This is especially funny for those of us who devote ourselves to documenting indigenous textile techniques, and scour the Internet for footage of traditional spinning - complete role reversal.)

As we made our way back to the main family area, we were stunned by the sight:

It's hard to convey in one photo, but the beach entrance was teeming with families, and the sky was filled with variously sized dots of flying kites.  This was clearly the place to be, of a balmy Sunday evening.