Lightbulb Moment

The past few days have been quite a blur. My quasi-flu turned into proper flu and I have been cooped up in bed too tired to do anything except doze, occasionally read, and knit a tiny bit. I have been working on swatches (which I cannot show you) and my Kastanie sweater. I think it's fair to say that I'll end up running out of yarn before I can knit two long sleeves. I never get any use out of the short-sleeved sweaters I own, so I am considering ripping Kastanie out.

And I have another reason for considering it. I am tired of the silhouette. I want different pieces in my wardrobe - I want interesting pieces. Granted I have a body shape that lends itself to fitted clothes (think Christina Hendricks rather than Nicole Kidman) but I still want to make things that have a purpose beyond warming me and not adding fifty pounds in the process.

Recently I have subscribed to a great deal of fashion blogs - the kind where ordinary people blog about what they wear. Girl With Curves has a completely different style to me but I find inspiration in how she layers and combines pieces. What Would A Nerd Wear is often too casual for me, but is great for accessorizing ideas. Blue Collar Catwalk has yet another style - again, different from mine - but I love the way she combines prints.

What I am taking from these blogs is something different than what I take from Ravelry (and I think to some degree there is a very distinct Ravelry style too - if you disagree, look around next time you are at a fiber-related event). Suddenly I'm less hung up on knitting the right designers in the must-have yarn - suddenly I am thinking about my knitting in a wardrobe context.

Lightbulb!

And I think also the death knell for Kastanie.

A Month Away

Count yourself lucky that I have not posted the blog post I spent the other day writing. It turned out to be a 2,000 word essay on defamiliarisation as narrative device in Emma Donoghue's Room and Lionel Shriver's We Need To Talk About Kevin complete with bibliography and footnotes. If I were still handing out assignments, I would totally ask undergraduates to compare and contrast narrative devices in the two novels. But, you are not getting 2,000 words on literature. Why make it easy for undergraduates? I wish had read Kevin a few days earlier than I did, incidentally. It would have added some much needed quality to my 2011 reading list. I have also been kept busy by a quasi-flu and trying to compile a wish list for my birthday. Wish lists are hard because they need to fulfill a certain list of criteria (mostly to do with my family's location) rather than what I'd love to have in my wildest imagination. So, without further ado, here's my real wishlist:

+ A dwelling similar to this one, but in Glasgow. Also, with very different art. + A puppy, preferably a little crossbreed with a dash of Cavalier King Charles Spaniel (not a purebreed because Cavaliers are awfully in-bred and unhealthy). + Moda "Circa 1934" Jelly Roll: .". collection [of] its typewriter key caps, vintage numbers and ornate medallions.. Rich red, worn yellow, antique white and sage green give you the perfect palette to work with." + 15 balls of Rowan Baby Alpaca in mid-grey. Just because, you know, it's a gorgeous yarn. + Andrew Pettegree's The Book in the Renaissance + A chromatic typewriter + A really, really snazzy DSLR camera - I do like Canon's cameras. + A trip on the Orient Express - art deco decadence for the win! + This poster in a lovely understated frame. + A cherry brooch + This t-shirt - although I should read the book (again? - have I read it?) + You can take the girl out of Scandinavia, but she'll always love classic Danish design lamps. + Another trip to New Zealand. I'd love to show D. Wellington - man, I loved Wellington. Yeah, two months should be plenty. Thank you. + And, finally, blocking wires! I cannot believe I still don't have any!

So, which things would you love to receive but also know you'll probably never get for your birthday?

You Little Wonder You

I am currently re-reading Dorian Gray. Happy 65th Birthday to a man with a portrait of his own hidden away in the attic.

Honourable mentions: + The iconic performance of Rock'n'Roll Suicide at Hammersmith Apollo, 1973 + Five Years performed on the Old Grey Whistle Test 1972 + I adore Slow Burn, such an underrated song from Heathen. Live 2002. + And "Heroes" always did sound better in the German version.

Yes She Said

I bought myself two Christmas presents. First of all, I finally became a member of MetaFilter - still the best community weblog the internet has to offer. I have been lurking on MetaFilter for almost ten years, so it was definitely time to take the plunge and cough up those five bucks. My second gift to myself has also been a long-time coming. For years I have been circling Garthenor Yarns and their organic, sheepy goods. Their yarns are produced from sheep kept on organic lands and the yarn is spun with minimal processing and no dyeing. I finally cracked earlier this week and now my Shetland single ply laceweight in 'light oatmeal' has arrived.

Oh, but it is beautiful. It reminds me of the Faroese laceweights I have been using: the same self-assured simplicity and honesty that says 'this has worked for centuries, so why change anything?'. This yarn is as far away from novelty yarns or instant gratification yarns as you can get - and for my money it is all the better for it. Although I'd love to see Karise knitted up in this sort of rustic yarn, I think I'll end up writing an entirely new pattern for it.

Okay, I have also bought fabric but it is less an indulgence than a response to 'oh dear, I have just thrown out half my wardrobe'. I did try to find tops I liked on the high street, but eventually I just went to Mandors and bought several yards of pretty polycotton in their January sale.

I intend to make several Art Teacher tunics - I'll be tweaking the pattern, though. The original Art Teacher tunic had a zip which I confess never using as the tunic easily slips over my head. I'll also lengthen it a tiny bit, make it slightly more A-line and I'll try very hard not to have ironing mishaps during construction. Scout's honour (I was never a Girl Scout).

Finally, I'm going to read James Joyce's The Dead tonight. Why? The story takes place on January 6.

Joyce is one of those authors with whom I have not really made peace (having said that, I think that is everyone's relationship with Joyce). I have read Dubliners from which The Dead is taken. I have made headway into Ulysses and Portrait but never attempted Finnegans Wake. I could happily drown in a sea of Joyce's words - Listen, a fourworded wavespeech: seesoo, hrss, rsseeiss, ooos - but I never connected with him the way I connected with TS Eliot.

Having said that, if you have not read any James Joyce and you recoil at the very idea, sit down and read The Dead. It is a fairly quick read, you won't need a spreadsheet to help you understand it and - best of all - it is wonderful.

Well Still Pretty Good Year

First task of the year: sort out the wardrobe. I should probably not use the word 'wardrobe' as that word implies system, thoughtfulness, and coherence. Most of my clothes stem from the frantic days of arriving in the UK with a suitcase of clothes and needing workplace-suitable attire. As a consequence, most of my wardrobe consists of cheap clothes bought in a state of panic.

Nowadays I lead the charmed life of a freelancer working within a creative industry with ties to fashion. Interestingly this means two things: 1) I have a great collection of pyjamas because I spend a lot of time working in my jammies, and 2) I have discovered that while I do not care much for fashion I do care a lot about style.

So I went through my wardrobe and threw out everything that did not fit, that needed a degree of mending that was at great odds with the intrinsic value of the item itself, or which had been too fashionable when I bought it and thus no longer stylish (I think of style as something which cannot pinned down to a particular time nor place - rather it transcends time and place).

Verdict: I need tops and trousers somewhat badly. I need basic cardigans. And I am not allowed to knit myself any scarves or shawls because I have a lot (note the phrasing: ..knit myself.. which means I can knit for others or for design purposes). I can sew some of the things myself, but what I really need is a focused shopping spree.

I hate clothes shopping.

My neighbourhood made national news yesterday after the recent hurricane felled a few trees, made several chimney pots collapse, and ripped roof tiles off. The police have closed off one street due to unstable masonry. I was safely ensconced at work but was troubled by the amounts of roof tiles I encountered on the way from work. One of the big trees in our back garden has fallen too. It is still blustery out there, but the worst has passed. In case you are curious, I live very close to where the fourth photo in this series was taken.

Knitting-wise: I'm swatching for a few designs. Reading-wise: I have finished two books so far this year, although the less said about the second book the better (it was not my idea).

Enter Here

This has stayed with me for a very long time.

It seems, as one becomes older, That the past has another pattern, and ceases to be a mere sequence— Or even development: the latter a partial fallacy Encouraged by superficial notions of evolution, Which becomes, in the popular mind, a means of disowning the past. The moments of happiness—not the sense of well-being, Fruition, fulfilment, security or affection, Or even a very good dinner, but the sudden illumination— We had the experience but missed the meaning, And approach to the meaning restores the experience In a different form, beyond any meaning We can assign to happiness. I have said before That the past experience revived in the meaning Is not the experience of one life only But of many generations—not forgetting Something that is probably quite ineffable: The backward look behind the assurance Of recorded history, the backward half-look Over the shoulder, towards the primitive terror.

Today works by James Joyce, Virginia Woolf, Henri Bergson and James Frazer all enter the public domain. All eminent modernists or people whose work influenced High Modernism a great deal.

I am perusing The Dalkey Archive Press - that great publisher and re-issuer of modernist works (among other things) - whilst pondering what to pick up. I have pledged to read a modest twenty books this year - a modest amount as I want to read better books, not more books. I have begun by finally reading Lionel Shriver's We Need To Talk About Kevinwhich is hopefully a step in the right direction? I am 150 pages into it and it reads like, well, a coiled-up snake waiting to strike (what an unsuccessful simile!). I have several books lined up: The Picture of Dorian Gray(in a beautiful edition given to me by D.), Jamaica Inn, and James Robertson's And the Land Lay Stillare the first three.

2012 is off to a quiet, thoughtful start. This is good.