Friday, May 16, 2008
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I was going to put my foot to the "pedal" of my spinning wheel, when I realized the Scotch tension had gone missing. Rolling around in the lower intestine of an orange cat, perhaps? And, the spring, well, tiggers bounce.
Moving right along, I was delighted to discover Claudia's BAT/KAT (Bicycling As Transportation/Knitters Alternatively Transporting) Project, wherein she'll be logging the number of trips knitters take without their cars. Just let her know you'll be participating and on Mondays send her the number of trips you take in a week via alternate transpo.
Like Claudia, I live in an area where I can easily pedal to the library, post office, grocery stores, farmer's market, coffee shops and LYS. Today, I might be looking at 1.5 trips. One by bike to see Cheryl Oberle's trunk show at Posh; the other to park the car on the west side of I-25 and then cross the bridge to meet Mitch downtown for a meeting. That's the half.
Be sure to check out Claudia's bike. I'm deeply covetous.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
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On Mother's Day, Mom and I went to see the Gee's Bend exhibit at the Denver Art Museum. Of course, we had heard about the quilts; the groundbreaking exhibit in 2002 at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston made rock stars of these crafters, some of whom now have gallery representation in New York.
The quilts are remarkable examples of outsider art; forms that emerged in isolation, Gee's Bend, Alabama being fairly remote, and made from old work clothes, curtains, sheets, whatever was on hand. In the video accompanying the exhibition, one quilter said, if you found a scrap of cloth on the ground, you'd take it home and wash it and make yourself a quilt.
You'll see finer examples of "quilting"--the actual stitching of tops to backs--in other forms of early American quilting. I love their discipline and precision, their tight, traditional forms. But the Gee's Bend quilts, with their geometric features and stunning displays of color, are breathtaking. The Gee's Bend "vocabulary"--abstract, minimal and thoroughly modern--born from necessity and refined out of pride and the part of the human spirit that yearns to create and reflect beauty--is its own special language.
Of course in our culture, art is a product; dollars get attached to that product and people profit, hopefully some of those people are the artists themselves. I wonder what the quilters think about the attention paid to their quilts, especially the older women who survived the Depression, living on grit and tenacity and faith. Are they amused? Delighted? Are they concerned how the art world will influence younger quilters?
Regardless, if you get a chance to see them, go. They are so full of electric creativity, they'll make you crackle at the site of it.
P.S. I'm going with a larger font here. Aging eyes, don't you know.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
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If you're looking for places to engage politics with your pointy sticks, consider:
1. Ravelry. Of course. Go to groups, type in politics and watch it unfold. (Although why the "Knitted Walking Stick Cozy Competition" surfaced I have no idea.)
You'll notice more liberal than conservative discussions. This seemed true of blogging knitters four years ago. Do Republicans not grok Web 2.0?
Here's an article that ran about Ravelry's PACs (Politically Ardent Crafters) that ran in the Philadelphia Inquirer.
2. The wonderful blog, Threading Water, by Anne, the mother of The Mother's Day Project. Trenchant commentary, good photography, big heart.
3. Lisa Anne Auerbach's The Little Red Blog of Revolutionary Knitting; she's an artist who knits politics into banners and onto the backs, butts and sleeves of her garments.
4. The Red Sweaters Deployment Project, an ongoing art installation conceived to foster a different kind of awareness about the war in Iraq. The artist is working to accumulate as many mini sweaters as there are fallen soldiers. Sadly, she needs a lot more sweaters.
5. KnittingLiberally.com, a community blog with great links to other liberal knitters and progressive resources. And, they've got swag.
6. An Obama logo color chart from Emilee Knits. And a not-particularly-flattering Hillary doll pattern from KnittingLiberally. (You'll be happy to know, she is wearing a pantsuit.)
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
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The Reagan quote yesterday re: Dubbya. Wrong. My bad. The quote is from an article by Michael Kinsley, who upon learning that the Gipper had mentioned him in the diaries, "imagined" several entries for an article in The New Republic.
I apologize for wishing it were true.
I leave you with this:
I'll be clutching one on Election Night.
Pattern available here.
Monday, May 12, 2008
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I've been quiet on the political front, in part because the Democratic nomination process grinds on, and in part because others have more trenchant observations to offer.
This was irresistable:
"A moment I've been dreading. George brought his n'er-do-well son around this morning and asked me to find the kid a job. Not the political one who lives in Florida; the one who hangs around here all the time looking shiftless. This so-called kid is already almost 40 and has never had a real job. Maybe I'll call Kinsley over at The New Republic and see if they'll hire him as a contributing editor or something. That looks like easy work."
From the REAGAN DIARIES------entry dated May 17, 1986.
Friday, May 09, 2008
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OK, now I'm stretching the theme a bit. But here are some images that put a smile on my aging visage.
Cracked me up:
Get your antioxidants.
From Berroco.
Made me proud:
Cousin Stephanie's University of Michigan afghan knit for her BF. (Wise girl, knows better than to knit her man a sweater before he ponies up with the you know.)
Intarsia, baby, must be love.
Made me stop and smell:
Lilacs 2008
Made my heart swell:
Of course the moment lasted all of two seconds, but still...
Antone in repose.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
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Last night at the North Denver Knitting Guild, Marybeth regaled us with tales of Yarn School: Three-plus days of classes in dyeing, fiber prep and spinning that take place in an early 20th-century schoolhouse. All meals and fiber included. And you should have seen Marybeth's dye jobs and nifty art yarns.
The event takes place in Harveyville, KS, at The Harveyville Project, a creator retreat and artist refuge founded by two urban refugees interested in escaping city noise and reclaiming a bit of Americana. (One of the urban escapee is Nikol Lohr, author of Naughty Needles.)
Anyway, we were weak in the knees at the thought of it and excited beyond belief. Isn't enthusiasm a wonderful tonic?
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
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Yesterday as we were driving back from El Rancho--a non-sustainable endeavor to be sure--we listened to Terry Gross' interview with Al Gore. Before she launched into a discussion of his book, The Assault on Reason, she asked the requisite questions about the Democratic race for the nomination, prefacing her questions with the phrase, "as an elder party statesman..."
Gore laughed and good humoredly took umbrage at being called an "elder party statesman," saying that a woman approached him recently saying, "If you had dark hair, you'd look just like Al Gore"!
It would appear that even a Noble prize doesn't insulate one from feeling tender about one's age.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
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Cheerful slug, huh?
But it's been something with which I've been preoccupied, so thought I'd open the discussion.
Yesterday, I received an email from my friend Stephanie alarmed by a dream that turned her out like a wrinkly Johnny Cash, only blonde. Stephanie looks nothing like Johnny Cash, though I believe she's a fan. She is not blonde. Nor is she wrinkly. I think it's a creativity dream. Kind of a "I-hear-the-train-a-comin'" warning shot about time flying and you better get crackin' on fulfilling your creative life or you'll end up like looking like Johnny Cash. Or something.
I could be projecting here, because I have these dreams all the time. In my dreamscapes, lately, I look really young or really old or really thin or really fat and people think my writing is brilliant or that it sucks or I've finished my novel or haven't or I'm working on a campus and things go terribly wrong, but I look really good doing it. Or something. A subconscious is a terrible thing to waste, isn't it?
At a dinner party recently, Mitch was talking to our hostess who expressed her annoyance with a 60-year-old friend of hers, a single gentleman, who, when she inquired whether he'd like to meet an attractive woman of similar vintage, explained to her in no uncertain terms his criteria for potential dates. Wants 'em younger.
Another friend of mine who has single girlfriends in this age group confirmed the phenomenon. Her take: "Like 60-year-old men look so great naked"?
Much of this fretting has to do with the fact that Mitch and I are staring down significant birthdays in the not-too-distant future. The AARP birthdays. The birthday where, all your more senior girlfriends report, everything sags, deteriorates, shuts down, wrinkles up, expands, contracts, turns brown, falls out, dries up. Or something. Oh goody, can't wait. I
t's hard enough to feel valued as a woman in this culture--hell, most cultures--without taking one's beauty quotient into account. Not to mention the nagging tempus fugit messages bubbling up at night. I really don’t know where I’m going with this, but would appreciate any thoughts you might have about keeping it together while the bod falls apart.
Friday, May 02, 2008
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I met this really cute guy.
He was wearing a clean shirt at the time.