Becca's Blog

Color class with Vivan Høxbro

For the second day of the Nordic Knitting Conference in Seattle, I took an all-day class on color in knitting. I was drawn to the topic of colorwork more than the teacher. Although her color combinations are bold and masterful, Vivian Høxbro 's garment designs are rather too dramatic for me. And to be honest, at the beginning of the day, I wasn't optimistic about the class--I even considered cutting out at lunchtime to do a little Seattle sightseeing on my own. We received a handout with instructions for knitting a color wheel. Terrific, I thought. If this is the extent of the class, a boring talk about the color wheel and knitting an ugly thing, I'm out of here.

But we didn't have to knit a color wheel in class, to my relief. Vivian had us wind off mini-hanks of yarn in all the colors of the color wheel.  This took a significant amount of time, but it broke the ice among the students because we had to keep trading yarn hanks around.

Vivian gave a presentation showing some examples of color combinations in fashion -- and many of them I didn't care for at all. Missoni may have color down cold, but its designs leave me cold. Plus, I think the projected presentation's color was off--Vivian commented a few times that we couldn't see what she saw on her screen. Not inspiring at all.

Things got much more interesting when we got to play with all the colors, not just the 12 in the color wheel. We were asked to pick a handful of colors that we didn't like or wouldn't normally use, as well as a handful that we do like. Then we had to knit a swatch using two "don't like" colors and one "like" color. I chose teal, kelly green, and ochre.  The teal and green came together OK, and the green and ochre worked OK, so I was able to make some transitions so that it wasn't horrible. That was a learning experience. Everyone had to explain what they did and why, which was fun. Everyone does approach color differently.

The next exercise was to work with complementary colors from the color wheel; that is, colors that are opposite of each other. I had a hard time with this one--I believe that these combinations are usually garish and/or cliched. Blue and gold just reminds me of school colors and pep-rally rah-rah; red and green makes me instantly think of overbearing Christmas kitsch. One of the most valuable things I learned from the class is that those combinations can be more subtle--they don't have to be that bald-faced. Vivan's tip was to make one of the colors dominant and use its complement as an accent. One of her sweaters was a midnight blue with small yellow blocks. The effect was of stars in a night sky.

But I struggled with the complementary exercise. I couldn't come up with a definite set of colors that I liked and that worked together. I meandered. Plus, I was starting to notice that other people were doing fancy slip-stitch patterns with their colors rather than plain stockinette stripes, so I was feeling a little inadequate about that, too.

The final exercise was to pair up with someone and pick a color combination and knit a swatch for them. This was really challenging to do for someone you just met a few hours before, and we all felt pressure to make something really good. It made us observe, and think, and talk to the person next to us!

Vivian brought a lot of her sweater samples and used them as examples while she talked. She told us that she didn't bring any brown, or many shades of gray, because  she thinks people use them as a safe fallback. I think for the purposes of this class, she was right. The point wasn't to make tasteful color swatches.

It was interesting to work with the line of Harrisville yarns that she designs with and creates colors for. Most of them are heathered, which gives them complexity and probably helps them work together. Also, they're so thin that they don't feel good in the skein, but I can understand that a double-thickness twined or stranded material would be a more manageable weight using this type of yarn. And it probably gets softer with washing.

She concluded by encouraging everyone to try on her samples, which everyone enthusiastically did. I saw that the construction techniques were interesting and probably really fun to knit, even if the garments aren't my style. And it made me wish that there were an event during the conference where we could look at all the teachers' samples, because they all brought amazing things.(Maybe that did happen during Saturday night's happy hour, which I missed.)

The final thing I learned in class was that there is no substitute for color swatching. You can't know how two colors will interplay until you put them together.

After class I had coffee with some work friends, and then met Janine, Ryan, TMK, and Gail for dinner. Janine took a class on Bohus knitting, which sounded wonderful. I really wished I could have seen Susanna Hansson's examples.

To the best of my knowledge, I haven't got a drop of Nordic blood, so I couldn't claim that as my reason for wanting to attend this conference; I just wanted to learn about more traditional knitting techniques and traditions. Since this conference was a rousing success, I think the museum is likely to host it again--and I would strongly recommend it to any enthusiastic knitter.

Seattle Knitting Sojourn

It's now the third weekend in October, so high time to tell you all about my first weekend in October. Thursday night I flew to Seattle for the Nordic Knitting Conference at the Nordic Heritage Museum.

The museum is housed in a converted school that was built in maybe the '20s or '30s. I was charmed by the architecture because I went to elementary and junior high schools that were built in the '60s, with completely character-free architecture. Y'know, open-plan buildings that didn't have classrooms, they had "pods."

So sitting in my first session of the conference, in a very old-fashioned looking classroom being lectured to by a rather formal older woman, I had a happy little "back in school" fantasy unrelated to any life experience of mine. But I thought it was a terrific reuse of a lovely old building. Apparently the museum would like to relocate to a more central location, but I think their mission of preserving and propagating the community's Scandinavian cultural heritage is very well matched to the site they're in now.

That first day's class was Viking Cables, with Elsebeth Lavold. I didn't exactly know what I was getting into, having merely flipped through her books and ogled some of her beautiful patterns and knowing that I like cables. So I really wasn't hip to the idea that Viking cables represented any kind of design innovation; aside from knowing that the designs were based on old Viking carving and metalwork designs, I never gave it much thought. I think I vaguely sort of wanted some help not getting lost when working multiple cable panels and complex cable patterns. I didn't exactly get that from the class, but I did get a more organic feel for what cables actually do (or what I'm doing when making them). Part of that came from learning to cable without a cable needle (yikes). When I didn't use the cable needle, it became much clearer that I was moving the stitches. Sounds like a big "duh," I know, but it made something conceptually click for me. Then talking about stitches "traveling" made sense--I could determine where a stockinette band went on that reverse stockinette field rather than just blindly memorizing whether a given symbol means "cable needle in front" or "cable needle in back."

As for the cables, Elsebeth first had us work a pattern from her Viking knits book, starting a cable in the middle of an open field of stitches. Again, I really didn't realize that she innovated this technique. After we mastered that basic pattern she had us free-form knit a trapezoid, to figure out where those "ribbons" needed to go and to decide for ourselves where to put the curves in.

I'm making it sound like this came easily, but it didn't, really. I was quite resistant to giving up my cable needle, partly because I missed a critical tip from Elsebeth about using the needles to prevent having four live stitches at a time off the needles as you switch their position. Just like when I was in elementary school, my attention was a little spotty that first morning, and I probably absorbed about a third of what was said. Thankfully, most of it was written down in the handout.  I wasn't the only one with a furrowed brow, either. The afternoon was spent learning how to do a cabled mitered corner, which involves short rows. Until I make one of Elsebeth's lovely cardigan designs, that's going to just be knowledge for its own sake. Also, I attended the second Viking Cables session on Sunday, which started out with a reprise of the same material. I was a bit disappointed that there was so much overlap between the two, but I did get to review the information, really get what I missed the first time, and finish my swatches. What I wanted from the second class was some in-depth discussion of designing and charting your own knotted cables, but in the time before I had to leave for the airport, what was covered was basic sweater design, starting with calculating from a gauge swatch. Not exactly what I was after. I did break down and buy the book from the gift shop, and I'm likely to buy some more of her pattern books, which I know Article Pract stocks. (And on Sunday I ended up sitting between a woman who has apparently had knitting needles in her hands from the age of three and now teaches, and another woman who knits a LOT of cables. Their reactions to the aforementioned techniques were, respectively, "Oh, how lovely," and "Oh my god, it's so cool! This is easy! I know just what to do with this!" I would never criticize someone for their excitement about an idea--but I did wish the one classmate could have expressed her excitement silently to herself.)

Elsebeth gave a presentation during Friday night's banquet describing how she came to focus on Viking cables and showing examples of some of her inspirations. I loved that, because I've been inspired so often by patterns in other media that I'd like to interpret in knitting. Clearly, Elsebeth follows through on those moments of inspiration--I'm sure that being a designer by training and by trade helps. Her presentation also made me really wish, once again, that I could draw.

There were lots of out-of-towners at this conference, many from farther away than California (not including the speakers who traveled from Scandinavian countries). Among the Bay Area contingent were Carol and Susan, whom I met last year at the knitting retreat at the Olema Inn (which is holding its retreat again next month).

In class I met a couple of  women who turned out to both be friends of Feralknitter Janine, and it was a pleasure getting to know each other. Gail and I bonded over the mind-bending cabled mitered corner. I asked Regan how best to burn the two hours between the end of the session and dinner, and she invited me to head to the Fiber Gallery with her. About 30 conference attendees converged on the store at once. Everyone must have made a beeline as soon as class got out.  I gotta tell ya, that store has a niiiice selection of yarn and books. I bought Evelyn Clark's Knitting Lace Triangles. Then we met up with Janine at dinner, and I got to meet Marilyn van Keppel as well.

Tomorrow: Color with Vivian Høxbro.

Tour of California

On Monday morning I accompanied Jane on her surfing jaunt to Bolinas. While she surfed, I sat on the beach and forced myself to finish the gift scarf for my sister-in-law that has been boring me so bad since before Christmas.

Then I got to work on a hat for myself that was a brainstorm following a stash-rummaging session, but that's a story for another post.

We got ready to head home for the afternoon, and found the route to Highway 1 blocked by emergency vehicles. 
At first we thought it was an accident, but when we saw the cars stopped and the people lining the roadsides, we remembered the sign on the way in about expecting delays due to the bicycle race.
The Tour of California was coming through West Marin on President's Day. Jane turned off the ignition, and we got out and prepared for a short wait. Just before the cyclists passed our intersection, I remembered that I had my camera with me.

In the lead: Sat 9/17

Currently Saturday 9/17 has the most votes for a knitblogger's picnic at Lake Chabot.  If that's a good date for you and you haven't yet RSVP'd, let me know!

More on Sept. Knitbloggers' picnic

I just looked into reserving a picnic area in the East Bay Regional Parks, and found out that it's not free to make a reservation. I'm happy to front the money or show up early to stake out a spot for free, but I'm not going to do so unless people are actually interested in showing up. So talk to me, my 10 subscribers. September 18? September 25? The 12th of Never? 

Knit(blog)ers' picnic.

Anyone else like the sound of that? Particularly if you're in the SF Bay Area? It'd be nice to socialize outside, and take advantage of the summer weather. It would even be possible to include non-knitting family, friends, significant others, etc.

Mebbe in about a month? Potluck? At a park in southern Alameda County, like Del Valle or Sunol or Joaquin Miller, to make it easy for Peninsular people to attend?

Addendum: Here's what I'm thinkin'. Lake Chabot Marina, in San Leandro. Very close to 580, not far from 92, so it's accessible from the other side of the Bay.  Josie, Tina, and me checked it out this afternoon, and it's a nice little spot.

Here's what it has, in addition to picnic areas with grills:

• A bike path around the lake
  
• Paddle boats for rent
  
• Fishing
  
• Volleyball courts
  
• Horseshoe pits (Whoreshoes venue?)
  
• A snack bar, which they rather grandly call a cafe. But still, cold drinks, in case you forget them.
  
• Plumbed toilets

I like me a developed park. A park with amenities.  I'm thinkin' I'll reserve a picnic area for Sunday, September 18.

I'd be happy to organize, if there's interest. Leave a comment if you're up for it, with preferences as to date and location, if you have any.

Crossing the line.

Certain actions make you realize that you have crossed over into another territory. For example, a couple of weeks ago I found that my stash would no longer fit into one cabinet--which indicates to me that perhaps my knitting interest has progressed past pleasant hobby into, say, mania.

I've been birdwatching almost as long as I've been knitting, and probably have spent as much time at it. I crossed that psychological line with birding the day I drove to Stockton to see a bird normally only found in the Arctic. This is just my personal definition--many birders don't consider traveling great distances to see birds (and spending lots of money doing it) to be unusual behavior at all. With birding, I've pulled back from the brink, mostly. Ordinarily I don't do much beyond my regular hawk-counting assigned days, and watching the birds in my yard.

But I spent last weekend north of Seattle strictly to see hawks. Jane draws the line at overnight birdwatching trips, so she didn't go with me. One of my hawkwatch teammates knows Skagit County, Washington, very well, so she helped arrange for a group field trip, so we could see bald eagles, gyrfalcons, perhaps prairie falcons, and snowy owls. There were about 18 of us altogether, all associated somehow with Golden Gate Raptor Observatory.

Skagit County has daffodil and tulip farms, and has a Tulip Festival every year. I wished I could bring home some daffodils--they wouldn't have survived the flight, nor been allowed into California, I think.

We drove around the delta farmlands of the Samish flats, and saw more bald eagles than you can shake a stick at. I was expecting to be quizzed on the five different bald-eagle plumages, but no one got that ambitious. We missed prairie falcons altogther, which was OK, because I've seen a few of them before. They are graceful, pale birds.

One big deal of the trip was seeing this guy:
a gyrfalcon. Most of us had never seen one before. I took this shot through my spotting scope, cursing the shaky tripod all the while. I'm amazed that it came out at all.

On Sunday we drove north into British Columbia, almost to Vancouver, and saw three snowy owls. I didn't even attempt to photograph them. They are so adorable that tough hawk-banders who usually refuse to anthropomorphize anything were squeaking "it's so cute!" They were sitting on the ground in a field, looking like shmoos.

On Monday we didn't have very good luck, although we did see a field full of snow geese. Was it worth the money and time? Although it's one of the more expensive bird-chasing trips I've done, it was. 

 

 

Back from the wilds of Washington.

After three full days of Internet deprivation, I caught up on my e-mail and blog-reading this morning, and my cat reacquainted himself with my lap.

Tonight I'll unpack and pull my pictures off the camera (and start washing clothes). And I'll give you more detail than you care to know about hawkwatching in Janine's old stomping grounds, Skagit County.  I got a little car-knitting done on the trip, and some on the plane, but this was a *serious* birding trip. No formal lunch breaks, for crying out loud.

I was really hoping there would be a Spring IK waiting for me when I got home.  I received a subscription as a Christmas gift (it was on my Amazon wish list as a must-have), so I've been sitting on my hands--I didn't rush out and buy one the first day I heard they were available.  Maybe this evening.

I did it, I did it, I did it.

I finished a half-marathon Sunday morning--that's thirt-teen-point-one miles--in two hours and thirty-seven minutes.  I've never run that far before in my life, nor for that long. I was afraid of embarrassing myself, I was afraid of hurting myself, I was afraid of just not showing up, but I did it, and performed better than I imagined I would. I felt good throughout, only really getting tired in the last two miles.

Jane and I made a four-day weekend out of it, driving down to San Diego on Friday. Because all the recent rain has made the hills unstable, the trip over the Grapevine took about two-and-a-half hours.  What should have been an 8-hour drive took 12. But we got there in good shape, and spent Saturday running errands, like picking up the timing chip for my shoe and checking out all the stuff for sale at the race expo.

I chose this race because a lot of Jane's family lives in the area, so it was a good excuse to visit them. Jane's older sister also ran the half-marathon, but she's done several before, including this one--she's a triathlete. She got us there on time, gave me lots of tips, and gave me some cool, morale-boosting gear, like special socks. Oops, it looks like I cropped out the socks in this shot, from the end of the race. Needless to say, I'm the short one.

Jane and her Dad met me at the halfway point and took a photo to prove I really ran the whole thing:

They missed both me and Susan at the finish line, though, because we both finished faster than they expected. Susan, being good at this kind of thing, finished in just 2:11. I think the taller thing has something to do with it, too. After the race, we went to Susan's house and relaxed in the hot tub, and her husband Dan made us brunch. Pretty decadent.

Jane also took the opportunity to surf. A family friend came down from Orange County to surf with her, while I napped on the beach and recovered from my ordeal.  Jane's on the left. Isn't she cool? How did a schlubby-looking chick like me end up with such a beautiful wife?

My reward at the end of the day was a big plate o' Mexican food and two margaritas, followed by about 10 hours of sleep. I did a little knitting on the second Mer-Made sock in the car on Friday and Monday. Thankfully, the drive home was only 10 hours, not 12. We stopped in Santa Barbara, our old stomping grounds, for lunch. A lot has changed along Highway 101 in the 20(!) years since I made that drive regularly back and forth from college.  Tiny towns have become sizable suburbs, and big-box malls are everywhere. It makes you grateful for the empty stretches.

I actually had fun during the race--it's very uncharacteristic and confusing that I get a charge out of encouraging other racers and having strangers cheer me on. It pokes a small hole in my self-image as a misanthropic, exercise-hating, competition-averse loner, and I'm not quite sure what to do with the information. But now that I know I can, I probably have to run another half-marathon--when I get good and ready to train again. And though I think I can resist wearing my finisher's medal, I am definitely wearing my race T-shirt to work tomorrow.

Bendy straws and Latvian braid.

As usual, I've been piling up items to report, and taking no photos at all. And starting too many things and not finishing enough. So. Last week I received Folk Socks (courtesy of a Christmas Amazon gift certificate) as well as The Sweater Workshop. I've begun reading Folk Socks, and shoot--it really rocks, just like the Harlot said. I wonder if Kate knows there's a pattern for Scottish kilt hose in the book. Finally, the narrative explanation of sock construction that I've needed all along, although I still want a diagram of sock anatomy and construction. When they say pick up stitches and knit across the instep, I want to see it. Don't make me picture needles #1 and 3 in my head--show me.

This week has been all about two things: preparing for my half-marathon on Sunday, and Macworld Expo. Last Saturday, before it really started raining again, I did my last long training run and strategized about how I'll handle the actual run. It really helped with the jitters I was feeling, and helped me put it into perspective. I have a really solid endgame strategy now: It consists of handfuls of Advil, washed down with margaritas drunk through a bendy straw while lying on my side in the fetal position. This will follow my strong 8-mile run and refreshing 5-mile walk.

On Sunday I got a deep-tissue massage at the Claremont Hotel, courtesy of a birthday gift certificate I hung onto. I have to say it's a wonderful splurge--after they get done kneading the knots out of your back, they put a hot towel on you and cover you up with a blanket--then they start on your neck. I can't afford to do that very often, but I think I can come up with an excuse about once a year.

I made some progress on the second Noro mitt, as well as making a mistake in the pattern--but I'm not going to rip back. I'd like to think that the pattern deviation provides some welcome variety. I'm no slave to convention or rules.

Because we're headed out on a long road trip this weekend (the half-marathon is in San Diego), I cast on for the second Mer-Made sock, so I'll have something brainless to knit in the car. We'll see if my new-found understanding of sock construction translates into a better-looking sock.  And because I have no self-control, I also cast on for the colorwork hat for Jane. The two main colors are a dark brick red and a pale, heathered sage; it will have charcoal-black accents. I had to buy about 8 different colors of Cascade 220 to settle on this 3-color combination--and the purple skein that's about the shade of boysenberry yogurt, I don't know. I don't think I really like it. We started with a purple-gray-black color scheme, but I rejected that right quick.  Since I bought the yarn at different times in different states, I found that my preferred local yarn shop's prices are on the high side, but I guess you do pay something for convenience.  And the Latvian braid that borders this hat kicks butt--I'm in love with it. I'm only partway through the first colorwork repeat, though. When I have more done, and when it's not the dead of night, I'll take pictures.

For the past two days I've been at Macworld Expo for my job, meeting with hardware and software makers, and seeing what's new for Macintosh. It's rather more interesting than a typical computer trade show, mostly because Macs are used in publishing and other creative professions, so the products are aimed at media professionals--it's often products that I would use in my day-to-day job.

Anyway, between work deadlines, travel, and the race, it's likely to be another several days before I post again. Wish me luck and stamina on Sunday.