After much confusion and running around (I really got my exercise in that day!) trying to find a space to set up, John agreed to let me share his table. What a nice guy!
One of the items I crocheted was a drawstring bag with a heart on it (i affectionately called them Love Sacks). I sold two of them that night, both to a girl who was probably about 8 or 9 years old. After her dad bought them, she promptly ripped the strings out of both bags and stuffed her hands inside. The rest of the night, I could see her proudly showing off her new "mittens" to anyone who would look. Too cute!
There was so much incredible talent packed into the library that night. Seriously, if you want to be fascinated, go up to an artist and ask them about their work or the story behind a particular piece. John, the guy next to me, talked all night long about the properties of different types of wood and how he goes about finding pieces to work with. Another woman explained to me that when she makes jewelry, the piece develops a mind of its own and tells her a story as she creates it. Yet another artist told me with great anguish how her home studio was destroyed in the flood a few years back, but she was really close to finishing repairs.
That got me thinking about what my art means to me. I first learned how to knit when I was in 2nd or 3rd grade from my paternal grandma. She used to get the biggest kick out of how I would knit - instead of holding a needle in each hand, I found it easier to hold the left one between my knees, which freed up my hand to wrap the yarn around the other needle. However, I never really mastered knitting at that point. All I could make were lopsided squares with an occasional dropped stitch that would unravel into a hole if bothered. I only knew how to cast on, knit, and cast off. Eventually I lost interest, and my yarn and needles were relegated to a far corner of my room. Even when my grandma had to be moved to an assisted living facility and I was given her knitting supplies (I was the only one in the family who had any idea what to do with it), it was added to that sad corner of my room. It wasn't until my maternal grandma past away that I picked up knitting again. My mom and I flew down to Arizona for the funeral and were staying at my aunt and uncle's house where my grandma also used to live. This became the gathering hub of the family - more specifically, the porch, where the adults spent the long perpetually summer days reminiscing and indulging in adult only beverages. I stayed inside on the couch watching TV and helping to go through grandma's stuff. Eventually, my aunt took pity on me and retaught me how to knit. This time, though, I was shown how to cast on, knit, purl, increase, decrease, and cast off. That is basically all you need to know to follow a knitting pattern, and I was hooked. (Side note: I was planning on wearing an Auntie Pat sweater to the art show, but it was SO HOT in the library.) Since then, I've tackled hats, blankets, stuffed animals, and even a sweater.
When I was in college, I was part of a club called Stitchin' Students. Stitchin' Students was a weekly gathering of yarn nerds to knit, crochet, needlepoint, or anything else having to do with fiber. One of our activities in the club involved yarn bombing the campus. For those of you who don't know what yarn bombing is, it is exactly what it sounds like. Here are some pictures.
One of the places we were planning on yarn bombing was the railing of the stairway with granny squares. I wanted in on the fun, so one of the members taught me how to crochet a granny square. My first granny square ended up being a granny triangle, but I was still proud of myself. I decided to keep going with crocheting as well as knitting. That leads me to where I am today. I suppose part of why I do it is to remember my grandmas and keep those family ties alive. More importantly though, I do it for myself. I do it for the love of taking yarn and transforming it into something that can be used and/or appreciated by people other than myself. I do it to keep my anxious hands busy. I do it to keep attention to detail alive. I do it to quantify my time (believe me, 2 hours spent knitting is much more visually gratifying than 2 hours spent on Facebook). It's a documentation of my presence, both in speaking of time and personality.
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