Excitement

Pardon my knitterly excitement, but I am a few hours away from my first finished garment of the year. I cannot believe it has taken me this long, but I am now a frill and a neckband away from a Summer Tweed cardigan. This is exciting because a) I get to wear a new cardigan verrry soon and b) I get to cast on a new project. This reminds me.

I do not consider myself a Hardcore Knitter but when an incredulous Other Half asked me why the beep not, I could not really say why. The evidence is stacked against me:

• When I want a little treat, I buy yarn.
• I have a .. sizeable yarn stash.
• My social circle consists of almost all knitters.
• I attend two knitting groups.
• Yarn fondling forms part of my my working life.
• On-line social networking revolves around knitting activities.
• I knit lace, socks, fair-isle, cables and do this using both Continental and English knitting techniques.
• I can recognise a knitting pattern or yarn from a distance.
• I can talk about rare sheep breeds.

But I still maintain I'm not Hardcore. How would you describe a Hardcore Knitter? Are you one?

But back to the new project I get to start so very soon. I am torn between knitting a hat for myself and casting on for a birthday present. A friend of mine turns forty this summer and has dropped hints about wanting a lace shawl. I have two balls of Kidsilk Haze in Ice Cream and I'm currently trying to find the right pattern. My friend is petite and very feminine, so I want something to match her personality and style. Ishbel is really the perfect pattern, but I have already made three (the same goes for the Swallowtail Shawl) so I'm looking for something .. else. Mooncalf suggested Citron but it is not as girly as I'd like.

Ideas, please.

However, most of all I am excited by the return of Doctor Who, the delirious, mad-cap, fantastic British sci-fi show. The first episode of the Eleventh Doctor's reign aired tonight and it was even better than I had hoped. You can read a quick spoilerish review here, or just trust me when I say it was a very good Steven Moffat episode. Moffat penned some of the best Doctor Who episodes in the recent past and I'm so pleased he is now on board as the show runner. I hope my non-UK Whovian friends get to sample the new Doctor soon. You'll like him.

The Glasgow Boys

Before I moved here, I had never heard of The Glasgow Boys, a late 19th century art movement in, yes, Glasgow. I suppose you might call them late Impressionists or even Post-Impressionists. They were inspired by the then Glasgow-based James McNeil Whistler (he of "Whistler's Mother"-fame) but also by French realist art. My favourite Glasgow Boy is undoubtedly E.A. Hornel whose collaboration with G. Henry, "The Druids Bringing In the Mistletoe", you can see on the left (or at Glasgow's Kelvingrove Museum). It is such an strange, unsettling painting filled with arcane symbolism,  and up close you can see the layers of paint smeared upon the canvas. It is not a beautiful painting nor is it particular skilled in a strictly technical sense - but it stays with you. I actually prefer Hornel's Japanese paintings where he becomes almost abstract when depicting kimonos and Japanese gardens, but "Druids" is arguably when he first sets off on his own path.

Later this year Kelvingrove Museum & Art Gallery will be showing a major exhibition on The Glasgow Boys (which will travel to London, I believe), but if you are interested in learning more about the Glasgow Boys, the late 19th century arts scene in Scotland, or simply want to know more about Scottish culture, I can recommend A.L. Kennedy's radio programme (which also features Alasdair Gray). I am not sure if it will be available outside the UK although I remember listening to Radio 4 whilst in Denmark..

Yesterday I received a lovely email from a long-lost, but dearly-remembered Danish friend. Coupled with the sunshine and the promise of spring, I am almost cheerful today.

Reading, Watching, Knitting, Thinking.

I'm currently reading Colm Toíbín's Brooklyn. I am reading it slowly, taking it in line by line. I always do this with Toíbín's books; they deserve attention and care. Also, Brooklyn cuts very close to the bone with its story about a woman leaving one country to seek a better life in another country. Sometimes a bit too close. Some decisions are not made easily and the outcome is messier that anyone might expect. I'm thinking about what we as readers bring to books and what books bring out in us. Mainly, though, I have been trying to finish my little red cardigan. I have had a couple of DVD marathons (verdict: Oh, I love Gregory Peck, the smallest gestures can be completely devastating, and Neil Finn should ditch the falsetto & Johnny Marr) and I'm now one tiny frill and a buttonband away from completion. I am thinking Synecdoche, New York might work for that. Then, it's upwards and onwards. New things to knit, new projects to fret about.

Oh, because I have certain weaknesses, these blog posts were really amusing: Create Your Own Regency Romance and Call In The Angry Villagers: 10 Clichés We Can Live Without. I swear I haven't touched any such reads in months.

And finally, I just loved this little throwaway line by John Cameron Mitchell: "There's no question (..) that Lady Gaga and Hedwig are from the same clan." So true and now I don't know why I didn't twig this earlier.

Blog Struggles

One of my ongoing preoccupations concerning blogging is the divisions between the public, personal and private sphere. When I started blogging in February 2001, I decided that I would not write an intensely private blog nor a confessional blog. I would not write about my work, about my family or friends nor about my personal life. Sometimes I admittedly stray close to the line, but I always make sure I feel comfortable with the idea that total strangers will read what I write. Nowadays I feel comfortable sharing pictures of myself or mentioning my live-in boyfriend, but it was not always so. The lines are not etched in stone, but can be moved slightly depending upon circumstance.

The first big shift happened in 2005 when my then literary blog attracted the attention of a mentally ill man who managed to track down my real name and address through clever net detective work. He proceeded to stalk me in the physical world as well as bombard me with attention online. I learned that no matter how hard I tried, I could not stop him from reading "clues" where I had intended none. The man mistook my personal blog voice for the actual private woman. It felt like a violation - but once the stalking had been resolved (thank you, Copenhagen police), I began to reassess blogging and what I wanted to achieve. Looking back, I began to let my guards down the following months and (coincidence or not?) a long-term online friendship blossomed into a long-term romantic relationship still going strong.

Fourth Edition blurs the lines even more. I suppose it belongs to the "craft blogs" section of the blogosphere, but I also write about matters that were once strictly off-limits. Many of my regular readers know me in "real life" which is a new sensation. I post pictures, whine about really wanting a dog and I share what I create. It feels quite intimate, you know. However, I have come to realise that whilst some barriers have fallen, others have sprung up. Because the lines between my blog persona and Me have become almost invisible, I feel much more responsible for what I write. I also feel intensely protective about my innermost thoughts and experiences. I used to think: "I need to blog this" whenever I experienced something. Nowadays I think: "how can I blog this?" I hope you can spot the subtle difference.

I am reflecting upon this because I read so many courageous blogs written by people who feel brave enough to share themselves and their experiences with others. I have stories I wish I felt okay writing about, but since I can no longer hide behind (relative) anonymity, I feel extremely uncomfortable with the idea. To be honest, I sometimes wonder if I can go on blogging (although I would miss it if I were to pull the plug) because of the conflation between my self and my blog persona.

So I post pictures of socks.

Thank you for reading - some of you have been along for the ride for almost a decade - and hopefully I will soon figure out how to blog once more.

Going Places

Crocheting Adventures with Hyperbolic Planes, a book on how to make geometric models using needlepoint, has won a prize given to oddly-titled books. Written by Latvian mathematician Daina Taimina, it was adjudged the winner of the annual Diagram Prize after a public vote run by the Bookseller magazine.

- Odd title win for crochet book

I think it says a lot about me that I didn't batter an eyelid at the title. Besides, Crocheting Adventures with Hyperbolic Planes does not hold a candle to books like Highlights in the History of Concrete or Bombproof Your Horse, both previous winners.

I finished my Monkey socks this weekend. They are very pink/lilac, but they do warm my feet (perfect for that impending snow we are supposedly getting). I'm just happy I won't have to use the Yarn Yard Bonny again. Just too synthetic for my taste. I have wound two cakes of delicious sock yarn - The Thylacine's Wellington BFL/nylon and Old Maiden Aunt's merino 4ply - and have scoured Ravelry for sock patterns. Like Ms Mooncalf, I think it is time to admit that sock knitting is no longer abhorrent or strange. It certainly has a place in my life.

Some exciting news: I will be teaching knitting and crochet classes in Glasgow this spring. Topics include the usual beginners' courses in both knitting and crochet, but also some advanced courses such as Continental knitting, Fair-Isle knitting combining English & Continental techniques, beading, finishing techniques and, yes, sock knitting . I'll be posting more info on the Glasgow and Scots Knits Ravelry groups soon or contact me directly if you want to know more. All the courses will last one hour and are free. Woohoo!

Finally, two blog posts about how we relate to our bodies. Kate Davies writes eloquently about how to formulate and describe the relationship (particularly if you have fallen ill) whilst Lilith of Old Maiden Aunt writes about feeling disconnected from her body. Both posts ask pertinent questions to which I can relate. I wish I felt ready to write about my personal struggles in terms of body and mind, but maybe someday I feel comfortable adding my thoughts. I thank both Kate and Lilith for being bolder than me.

Oopsie.

Some days the internet should be taken away from me. I am feeling delicate, emotional and fragile in a chocolate-eating sense and now I have purchased yarn from online vendors. One skein of merino sock from The Thylacine in a dark green colour called "Wellington" (and Wellington, NZ is my favouritest city on earth) and one skein of luscious, sinful Malabrigo in Azul Bolita (which looks remarkably like an Yves Klein Blue on this monitor and, yes, it is my favouritest blue). And I am supposed to be cold sheeping.

Truth be told, I abandoned my no-more-yarn pledge earlier this month as I came across an incredibly good offer on some old yarn and promptly spent £2 on 20 balls (I told you it was a good deal and I have plans for it all. Honestly). Somehow I think I need to revisit my cold sheep pledge..

In case you are wondering, the Good Deal yarn is going to go towards a lot of small projects: scarves, hats, cowls and mitts. Presents as well as stuff for myself. The Azul Bolita will turn into the Snapdragon hat as it will look fabulous with my bright green coat (yes, I frequently dress as though I am either colourblind or deliberately out to scare children). The sock yarn will .. become socks of the sock variety.

Tomorrow I will stay away from yarn outlets. Okay, that won't happen for a number of reasons but I will at least make a concerted effort to forget my Paypal account password. Now where is my chocolate?