Ordinary People

What? Another post? So soon? Yes, friends, there is a rant a-comin'.

But first, an update on yesterday's entry. The skulls are felted and looking mighty fine.

I found that the smaller gauge that was worked with a single strand felted way better than the larger skulls that followed pattern specs. The larger skulls needed one more wash than the little guys, and you can still see some of the crochet pattern on them. Still, the results are pretty swell. Now I'm trying to decide if I'm going to embellish them or just stick 'em in a basket to look spooky....

So much for the nicey-nice, on-topic stuff.

I have made a concious decision to keep this blog mostly about my fibre adventures, and I've mostly stuck to that. Though I push the boundaries of what costitutes "my fibre adventures" on occassion. This is one of those occassions. Though there is a fibre tie-in--watch for it!

I am not by nature a political person. My views on how people should live and how leaders should lead are not exactly in tune with our times. I have been called "slightly left of Karl Marx". So I generally stay out of public political debate. That does not, however, mean that I do not know what is going on, or have an opinion on it. I'm just usually smart enough to keep my mouth shut.

Not this time.

On Wenesday, September 24, the Prime Minister of Canada, Stephen Harper, who is running for re-election, was quoted in several major newspapers as having said:

"I think when ordinary people come home, turn on the TV and see a gala of a
bunch of people at, you know, a rich gala all subsidized by taxpayers
claiming their subsidies aren't high enough, when they know those subsidies
have actually gone up--I'm not sure that's something that resonates with
ordinary
people."

Okay, so quite aside from the disjointed,rambling structure of the statement, I have a few isssues about this little speech:

1. Define ordinary people. Working-class Joes. Truck drivers? School teachers? Engineers? Carpenters? Accountants? Nurses? Child-care workers? Civil servants? These are the professions of the "ordinary"people who are members and supporters of my local arts community. They care a lot about the arts, donating time and money to all manner of artistic endeavors. And, when they can afford to, they go to "galas".

2. Those people who are attending those "rich galas" are not usually the people who make their(meager) living in the arts. Those people are the local movers and shakers, businessmen and politicians. Trust me, the people who work in the arts are backstage cleaning up, getting ready for the next show or exhibit, or on the way home for some well-earned sleep. When they are marched out for show, the hoi-poloi politely shake their hands, all the while looking at the "artists" like they are some sort of exotic bug. Then they go back to sipping their moderately priced champagne and complain that the government does not support the arts like they do. Trust me, I've been to a few "galas". They are all the same.

3. What, exactly are the arts that do not resonate with ordinary people? Galas are not the arts, they are parties thrown to thank sponsors and donors for their contribution. Turning on your TV is welcoming the arts into your home. Even "Dancing With the Stars" is a gateway to the arts, exposing millions of "ordinary" viewers to the highly theatrical world of ballroom dancing. Who knows, those ordinary people may actually develop an appreciation for dance and go and support their local ballroom dance club, or worse yet, (gasp!) the ballet.

4. The subsidies have gone up? So where is all the money? Statistics Canada indicates that the only profession in Canada that has seen a decrease in average wage earnings over the past year is the arts and culture. So artists aren't getting paid--in fact, the vast majority of the professional artists that I know have to work a "day job" to make ends meet. Why are there so many actor-waiters and painter-janitors if arts funding is going up and everyone is on the gravy train?

And these are just the points that come immediately to mind. I will no doubt cogitate and debate the topic over a glass or two of Shiraz with like-minded folk. There are a great many more literate than I who are blogging, writing and speaking out on this topic. And what triggered this morning's wee rant is the output of one of those folks.

Margaret Atwood is a Canadian icon, for her literary works, her political views, her fearlessness, and her wearing of fabulous shawls and wraps. She is also a passionate supporter of the arts in their infinite variety. She wrote in Thurday's Globe and Mail:
things that are made.

"The arts" are not a "niche interest". They are part of being
human.

Moreover, "ordinary people" are participants. They form book clubs
and join classes of all kinds--painting, dancing,drawing, pottery,
photography--for the sheer joy of it. They sing in choirs, church and
other, and play in marching bands. Kids start garage bands and make their
own videos and web art, and put their music on the Net and draw their own
graphic novels. Ordinary people" have other outlets for their creativity,
as well: Knitting and quilting have made comebacks; gardening is
taken very seriously; the home woodworking shop is very active. Add
origami, costume design, egg decorating, flower arranging, and on and
on...Canadians, it seems, like making things and they like appreciating things
that are made.

She goes on to suggest that the ongoing war on the arts that has been waged by
Harper's government has a more nefarious motivation-you can read the commentary
in full here and make your own judgments about that.

So did you catch it? Yep, knitting is on the list of what makes Canadians creative. And Ms Atwood is right--playing with string is a hugely creative undertaking, whether you are knitting cotton dishcloths or designing your own handspun sweaters and shawls. And it's about as "ordinary" as you can get--knitting is accessible to anyone who can afford two pointy sticks and a ball of Red Heart.

Now, I am hardly suggesting that Mr. Harper is attacking knitting. However, I do feel that his comments, however garbled and out-of-context, do reflect a lack of understanding of the arts, or what it means to be an "ordinary person".

And who wants to be considered "ordinary" anyway?!?

Out of the Ashes

The Phoenix Sweater is done! Actually, it's been done for over a month, but I haven't gotten around to doing the picture thing until just this past week. So, without further ado--The Phoenix Sweater!






Oh, look at the contemplative gaze that our lovely model has...could she possibly be pondering her next sweater project? Or just basking in her sense of accomplishment?



For those of you who may not recall, this sweater was resurrected from the ashes of this post. I had spun the yarn with no specific intent and designed the sweater for the yarn. But, alas, my counting skills proved to be less than stellar and it was froggie time. There was much weeping and gnashing of teeth.



Then I got bit by the cable bug.






I stumbled across this cable and rib pattern in Nicky Epstein's Knitting on the Edge while looking for something else. After re-opening the book half a dozen times to stare at the pattern, I finally gave in and swatched up a sample. Within an hour, I had calculated and cast on for raglan tunic-style sweater.



All of this was going on during my busy summer, so there were great fits and starts of obsessive knitting, followed by long dormant periods. All in all, it took about three months from start to finish, but probably only about 60 actual hours of knitting.






I did have to stop and rip back a bit at the raglan shoulder because I wasn't too happy with the way things were going. The finished version makes me happy, though.

Then I fiddled around with the funnel collar a bit, too. Overall, it's a fabulous sweater!

For those who may be interested in the specs: the yarn was a handspun merino/silk blend. The fibre was originally purchased in 2005 from Silver Valley Fibres. I spun it as a 3-ply woollen at about 20 wpi/ 3 tpi on my Ashford Traveller. The knitting gauge is about 6 st/inch or 24 stitches over 4 inches/10 cm. It was knit in pieces and joined, the old-fashioned way. It measures about 42" at the bust and is about 28" long from shoulder to hem.

I am considering writing up the pattern, but I always get spooked by the sizing thing. I'm working my way through that phobia. When I am well enough to face multiple sizes, I may put out a call for test knitters...

So, now that that's out of the way, what next? Well, I appear to be off on a Halloween-inspired tangent. I have been spinning a couple of spooky yarns for seasonal projects that I intend to work on while we travel in October (yes, yet another trip!) and I have become addicted to crocheting these skulls from Lion Brand.

Okay, not too pretty so far...

...and there are seven of them waiting to have their ends sewn in before they go in the washer this afternoon. If these seven turn out, who knows how many other horrors await?

There's a Fly in My Sombrero!

Things have sort of slowed down around here, but an AWOL camera cable kept me from posting my latest adventures for the last couple of days. Said cable was found in a truly obtuse spot, and we're back in business.

There has been more travel in my life...boy, am I ever getting tired of Highway 63! If someone could just fold the province of Alberta like one of those old Mad Magazine fold-ins and make the 450 kilometers between me and anywhere disappear, my life would get so much easier! Having said that, I was on the road again last weekend. I took a few days to travel to the Red Deer area and attend the annual Wild Rose Fibres Retreat at Pine Lake Christian Camp. And it was well worth the trip!
The lake and the camp are gorgeous, the weather was terrific, and, while there was a shortage of Shiraz (the camp is dry), the coffee was tasty and plentiful.


This year's workshops were on bast fibres and suri alpaca, presented by Chuck Verschagen and Donna Rudd respectively. Lots of great information, and lots of fun playing with fibres that I don't always think to spin with. And in between, there was plenty of good food and lots of great conversation with friends and new friends.


Friday evening was a welcome evening, with snacks and an impromptu spin-in, then Saturday, after a yummy breakfast of quiche, sausages and muffins, we got to work. I had the bast workshop first, and Chuck got right to work demonstrating flax preparation:

Braking...

scutching....

...and hackling flax that he had grown and retted himself. We spent the morning spinning tow flax in a variety of preparations, then after lunch, Chuck showed us how to dress a distaff and spin line.




Though we didn't seem to get the concept of the pointy thing being a distaff cover...

..and we swore they were magicians' hats not dunce caps! After all, we were spinning straw into gold! If that's not magic, I don't know what is!

After a long day of spinning, we all went off to prepare for the Saturday evening banquet, which had a Mexican fiesta theme. Of course there were costumes...

...such as Chuck's muy macho mustachio....

...and Sheepless's equally macho look. Totally el bandito!

I wore a sombrero, which at one point in the evening suddenly produced a fly from underneath it (hence the title of this post--one of the most random and obtuse things I have ever shouted without the influence of alcohol!). There were other sombreros, as well...

...on our lovely hostess, Colleen...

...Kathleen...

...and Mick. Kathy started the evening in a bandanna (no doubt inspired by Chuck)....

...but finished the evening in a handspun turban secured with her maracas pen.

We were well entertained by the Golden Music Makers, who played a variety of music ranging from standards to polkas....

...which led to much dancing in the back. Marijane, Kathleen, Colleen, Jodi, Kathy and I danced up a storm. There are apparently pictures, and even video, but the threat to put them on Teh Internetz appears, so far, to be an idle one. In any event, there was a lot of fun had by the sombrero crew at the back of the room!

Sunday was a day of spinning suri llama and alpaca. We learned a great deal about the animals and the characteristics of their fleeces. Donna is a camelid judge and fibre sorter, and sure knows her stuff! I spent so much time taking notes and making samples that I didn't get a chance to take any pictures. And Donna had some really neat stuff to take pictures of, including her amazing cloaks and hangings featuring woven-in suri locks.

The weekend was fabulous, and the drive home went smoothly, with a stop in Edmonton for supper with Mom and Brendan, then brunch with Lisa the next day. And plenty of time to ponder and become inspired on the long drive. If I live long enough to make all the things that I have dreamed up on the drive to Fort McMurray, I think I will die around the age of 412. And I still will not have used up my stash by then!

So, back to work. I am carding merino batts for Christmas sweaters, spinning cotton for knitting, a sock yarn, and some bison, and knitting a shrug for Julia and yet another of the ever-present socks. No rest for the wicked!

In the Blink of an Eye...

...August disappeared! What happened?

A lot. That's what. Family reunions, travel, finished objects, gardening, workshops and birthday parties just ate up the month. It's all a bit of a blur, really!

I spent more time on the highway than anywhere else, I suppose. We took a family trip to Edmonton for a gathering of Steve's family. The whole gang was never fully assembled at one time, but there are 19 of us spread over 4 generations and having 13 or 14 in a room at once is chaos enough! Lots of fun, noise and good food. And the drive home again.

I spent the next few days packing and prepping for my workshop in Gibsons, then hit the road the following Friday. Julia travelled with me, and we spent a couple of days in E-town again, catching up with friends and family. Then we hit the road for the coast. And may I just say, it's a long drive. Scenic, but long.

We spent a couple of days puddling around in Vancouver (literally--it was a wee bit rainy!)...

...eating ice cream and...

...walkin' on the beach.

We went to the Vancouver Aquarium and saw the new baby beluga whale.

And we hung out with the lovely and talented Miss Lexi when she was not at school.

Then I abandoned my daughters and headed off on the ferry to Gibsons.

Hmm...what can I say about Gibsons Landing Fibre Arts Festival? How about WOW!!!!. Great festival, great community, great vendors, great people...just GREAT! I had a fabulous time, and my workshop seemed to go over well. And I bought a few wee bits and pieces of fibre....

...and, of course, did much spinning! Oh look at her, teaching away!

I kept the class busy spinning...

...and taking notes. Boy, I sure hope I said something that was worth writing down!

If nothing, else, we all had a lot of fun!

After the second day of the workshop, I did a little touristing, including a visit to Molly's Reach, a local landmark from the '70's CBC series "The Beachcombers".

I was never a big Beachcombers fan, but I'm pretty sure they've dolled the place up a bit from what I remember from the series. Then I wandered down the pier...

...apparently looking pretty stunned. I would suggest that perhaps I was a little brain-drained after having shared my great wisdom with my class? Yeah, that works. Right?

After a transcendent crab dinner at Smitty's Oyster House, a hot bath and a good night's sleep, I heading back to Vancouver for brunch with the girls. Lexi went off to work, and Julia and I went shopping, then headed out to Langley for the night.

We hit the road north the next morning and slowly worked our way home. There was a birthday to celebrate once we got here, so the next couple of days were spent cleaning and decorating and making party games. Then it was September!! And here we are...Julia is back to school, Steve off to work, and I am in the studio.

And life goes on...I wonder where September will go?

On Monday, August 4, we Albertans observed Heritage Day. So what better way to celebrate my heritage than to spin? At Heritage Park, of course!

Heritage Park is home to some of Fort McMurray's historically significant buildings, barges and machinery, and each year they host a family-oriented event on Heritage Day. There are kids' games, ethnic food booths, a dunk tank and pony rides--lots of fun stuff! So I was thrilled to be invited to demonstrate spinning in a historical setting.

I was given space inside the Nistawayou Building, which is an original trapper and trader's cabin from the early 1900's. I had a wolf pelt and some beaver claws for company--or competition! (Some of the kids were pretty interested in the pelts and traps and couldn't care less about some lady making yarn!)

I set up a bit of a display of handspun items along with some raw fleece and a few tools, then sat down to spin. I worked with the fibre that was left over from the learn-to-spindle kits, spinning woollen. Then I just spun and chatted with people for 6 hours. My idea of the perfect day.

I heard some wonderful stories of grandmothers and mothers who used to spin. I heard stories of childhoods spent carding for grannie. I heard a story from a Chinese woman whose family had spun for a weaving factory in Hong Kong and who had learned to spin before she could even remember. I chatted with a man from India about the charkas the women used in his village back home. I heard the story of the woman who had gone to a convent school and learned to spin and weave there. I learned far more about the heritage of the craft than I could ever had taught my visitors, and I made 3 skeins of pretty swell yarn!

Nice cushy chunky-weight woollen yarns--150g of the Opal and 100g of the Jade. Probably some woolly winter hats, eventually.

Lots more is getting done, too. I have the handouts for Gibsons all ready to go, I've finished the knitting on my Phoenix sweater and just have the side seams to finish, I've plied up some orange 3-ply woollen for mittens, and I have the mohair scarf all finished and sent off. All in all, not a bad showing for my week.

Just one more week before I head west for Gibsons and still much to be done...like tracking down that missing package of blended tops. Hmmmmm...where could they be?

I guess I'm off to hunt them down!

Taking a Break

After weeks of thinking about, talking about and working on spinning classes, I was getting a little snarky. So, I took a little break to celebrate the passing of another year in my life. Yup, I took the weekend off to party for my birthday!

Our little household set off on a mighty expedition to Edmonton, where we spent some time with family and friends. On Saturday, we went to the St. Albert Farmers Market and got some fresh veggies and some other nibblies. Then I settled out on my Mom's patio and spent the afternoon knitting and chatting in the sunshine. There was a yummy barbecue supper, and some more knitting. Our plans for a fire and s'mores were curtailed by a thunderstorm, but we had a swell time on the covered patio watching the storm.

Sunday was my actual birthday, and I got to do anything I wanted. So here's what I did: First, I went to the zoo.

...and unusually tiny pictures were taken.

I visited Humpty Dumpty.

I nibbled on a little cotton candy. (Of course the pictures upload larger when I am making a pig of myself!)

I got a sheepie puppet! Her name is Meryl Sheep. Of course!

Then we went to visit Brendan at work, where he made me a special birthday cone!

Then we went to Red Lobster, where Meryl got into the Sangria. I may have sipped a little, too...

Then I opened many fabulous fibre-related gifts from my family, including 4 skeins of Lorna's Laces sock yarn, some Lantern Moon dpns, a sheepie tape measure and a Steiff sheep key chain all the way from FAO Schwarz in New York! There were also some gorgeous earrings and a Starbucks coffee card and a whack o' lottery tickets (no big winners, though) and a really awesome little windchime. Wow!

Monday, we rolled on home, rested and refreshed and much less cranky than I have been for weeks. Ready to face the workshop prep ahead.

I also got the knitting finished on my piece for the Gibson's Landing Fibre Festival Instructor's Exhibit! Woo-hooo! I beat my deadline. It's blocked and drying right now--pics to come. For now, here's a peek at the yarn:

Mohair, spun from locks that I bought at the Olds Farmers Market last summer and dyed up inJune. I flicked the locks, then spun them in random sequence. The singles were Navajo-plied to retain the colors and the resulting yarn is about 24 wpi. I gave the yarn a soft brushing to bring out the halo and soften the hand and cast on and entrelac scarf. Stay tuned...

Oh No! She's Been Thinking Again!

There is much work to be done, yet here I sit, pondering the imponderable. Sometimes the meditative aspect of spinning is a little too, well, meditative...WARNING: Personal Rant content ahead!


But first, a random picture of my garden to put you in a happy place...

I am working on the Colour With A Twist workshop for the Gibson's Landing Fibre Arts Festival. This is work that should have been done weeks, if not months ago, but I allowed myself to be sidetracked by life. I have redesigned the workshop and its exercises half a dozen times since I sent in the proposal, and I am still adding and editing, exactly a month away from the workshop. And I am wallowing in philosophy, which is almost counter productive.

Here's what I'm bogged down in: What makes a good workshop instructor? What makes a good workshop? How can you meet the needs of everyone in a workshop group?


There are no easy answers, and I am hardly the first to ask these questions, but so many recent experiences have raised these questions again and again in my mind. Over the past four or five years, I have seen the full gamut of teaching and learning at a series of conferences, festivals and gatherings and I am trying to find my place within it.

The one thing that I am really wound up about is the teacher-oriented versus student-oriented approach to teaching. When I took the Instructor Skills Workshop at Olds College this spring, the instructor emphasised a student-oriented approach. This was fine by me, because it supported my personal philosophy. I believe that I am there to teach the student what they want to know, or what they need to know to be successful at what they are doing. I believe that my role as an instructor is to inspire and mentor. I will share my personal opinions on the craft, but I will allow room for debate and exploration. I am not there to boost my own ego, but to boost the confidence of my students. I learn as much in each workshop that I teach as my students do. This is my very strong personal philosophy and I'm stickin' to it.


But...


I am really getting re-started at this teaching thing after a couple of years of laying low, so I am still feeling like the new kid on the block. So, over these past few years, I started observing and talking to more experienced instructors. And I was amazed and, frankly, horrified by some of the things that I heard. I heard people say that they had been teaching the same thing so long that they could do it in their sleep. I heard people say that they didn't have to teach certain techniques because, while the technique was useful, they personally did not like doing it. I heard people say that if you talk to your students outside of the classroom, they lose respect for you and you no longer have any "authority". I heard people say that students who did not have state-of-the-art equipment weren't serious and were wasting the teacher's time. I heard people say that they didn't like it when people took their workshops and then went home to share it with their guilds because "it cuts into my revenue" (!!!) I heard people say that if you criticize a student's less-than-stellar work, it will motivate them to do better next time to avoid the criticism (!!!!!!). I heard that laughter and conversation in a classroom means that no one is learning anything.


On the other hand, I heard that if only one person in the class goes on to practice what was taught, the class was successful. I heard that teaching to the level of the most challenging student in the group taught everyone in the group the technique more thoroughly. I heard that great friendships could be made in the classroom. I heard that there is great wisdom amongst people who take workshops and that sharing this wisdom goes both ways for an instructor. I heard that changing up workshops to keep them fresh and up-to-date is a lot of work, but always makes you learn something new so you don't fall into a rut.


These comments came from a variety of instructors--I have spent time with over 40 different individual instructors from a wide range of fibre crafts over the past couple of months alone. And most of them were wise, gentle, and supportive of both me and their students. But I am alarmed by the number of negative comments. Why were there ANY negative comments? Sure, people are entitled to a bad day or a slip of the tongue, but the comments that upset me were within context and seemed to be a part of a whole attitude on the individual's part. So it's not really the negative remarks I don't like, it's the negative attitude. It's the sense of "it's all about me" that these remarks betray.


What we do is not hard. This wee craft of spinning has been done for millennia by people of all ages, races, and creeds. Cultures without written language and those with highly advanced libraries of lore have all relied on spinners. It can be done with the crudest of tools--you do not need the top-of-the-line, newest, shiniest, trendiest wheel/spindle to make a good yarn. You need two hands and a lick of common sense. And a little gentle guidance in technique.


What we do is not crucial to our survival. Before the industrial revolution, without spinners, there were no items of clothing, no household linens and blankets, no sails for sailing ships, no string for bows and arrow, no nets for capturing food. The economies of entire civilizations rested on the shoulders of spinners. Now we do it for relaxation, for personal expression, for the sheer joy of the craft.


So we take classes, workshops, seminars. We seek inspiration, support, help. We do not seek authority or criticism. Most people who take workshops are not seeking to be the greatest spinner in the world (that's my job--you can't have it!), they just want to try something new and have fun spinning. Why not go into a workshop, as the teacher, with that in mind?

Let's make teaching an "it's all about you" thing, and forget our quest for personal glory. That's what I'm going to do.


Whew! Now that I have that off my chest, I can show you a picture of last night's amazing sunset and get back to work building THE BEST DAMN WORKSHOP EVER!!