Jay was a catch, I guess. He had an incredibly successful career and a beautiful Copenhagen apartment, he was handsome in his expensive suits, and his date nights were always carefully planned with foreign films and meals to match. Relatively quickly I realised that Jay had no friends, just colleagues. He had a family but he had no contact with them (nor any desire to speak about them). Jay was lonely and he had no idea how to transcend this loneliness. We went our separate ways relatively quickly – there was no connection and there never would be.

I watched Steve McQueen’s Shame yesterday and for the first time in years I thought about Jay. The similarities between Shame‘s Brandon (played by Michael Fassbender) and Jay are superficial – the walled-up Self and an absolute inability to connect emotionally whilst seeming succeeding in life – yet I was struck by them. I hope Jay is happier now.

Shame has been marketed as a film about sex addiction and carries an 18 certificate (NC17 in the US) with much hype surrounding Michael Fassbender’s nudity. I thought it was an intellectually engaging film – and very pointedly unerotic – and I don’t buy that it is about sex addiction. The addiction is the symptom, not the cause. This review pokes at some uncomfortable things (spoilers).

Visually it is just stunning as you would expect from a director rooted in visual art: scenes are very deliberately framed, long shots are used to great effect, and the film is drenched in blue-grey hues. McQueen also uses reflective surfaces very effectively hinting at Brandon’s fractured Self. I noted a meta-commentary running throughout the film: Brandon rides the New York subway a great deal and the trains have posters framing Fassbender’s face: Medical Enhancement, A Work In Progress etc. Every single detail matters in this film.

Every single detail matters in this film, so I wonder about some  things. Brandon dresses in well-made, yet bland clothes and lives in a stark apartment where you would be hard pressed to find anything expressing personality – except for his records which are all on vinyl. We see him placing a needle on the record (Glenn Gould’s The Goldberg Variations) – in a film so careful about each frame, that tiny detail nags.

My good friend Anne saw Shame yesterday as well and we had a long conversation over the phone about it. She liked it as much as me – although like is a strange word to use in this context. It is a thought-provoking film, it is a beautiful film, but it is not a film for everyone. I think it will stay with me for a long time.

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?

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.

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).

I was given an amazing Danish knitting book: Mere Feminin Strik by Lene Holme-Samsøe. The Ravelry photos do not do it justice – it is well-conceived, clever, and luscious. It is split into four sections: ‘plain’ knitting, textures, cabling, and lace. Each section has garments as well as accessories showcasing the theme. The attention to detail is evident on every page and I really like how wearable the designs are. I have a couple of must-knit garmentss such as the stunning Cecilia which is knitted top-down and Lily, a bottom-up garterstitch cardigan, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be knitting some of the smaller pieces too. So far Mere Feminin Strik is only available in Scandinavia, but seeing Holme-Samsøe’s first book was snapped up and translated by Interweave Press, I’d be surprised if this follow-up book wasn’t given the same treatment.

ETA: Interweave Press will be publishing a translated version in 2012 – thank you to Carol for the info – she’s the translator!

Overall, though, we did try to give presents that would not only please the recipient but also support people we know and love. This included presents from Gabrielle Reith’s Small Stories range and t-shirts from SevenHundred. I was also very humbled to see many people choosing to gift one of my patterns to friends over this festive period. Thank you!

Things are already in motion for a very lovely 2012 – I hope to catch with myself, you and everyone else before the clock ticks over, though.

The Kibble Palace, Glasgow Botanical Gardens, December 2011

Only three more days until Winter Solstice..

November 30 2011 has been a day of strikes across the UK as a reaction to the Tory-led coalition’s “austerity measures”. I have been watching the news unfold from my cosy home, but part of me did wish I could have been out there. Some years ago I would have been. It has been interesting to see how most of them media have been shouting that this one day of strikes could push the UK back into recession .. I seem to remember most of the UK got an extra few days off for the sake of a certain royal wedding earlier this year but that was “a celebration”, of course. Interesting, also, that this strike comes the day after the Chancellor’s “Autumn statement” which I was following with incredulity yesterday. You can read an acerbic and pointed response here.

Moi? Cynical? I think I am turning into a grumpy old woman (I have the grey hairs to prove it). Maybe just realistic rather than grumpy.

And so with a boot firmly planted in the realistic camp, I was delighted to find other people utterly bemused* by the never-ending editorials about The Party Season. I think I had a party season once when I was 20 and as a skint student, I wore secondhand 1970s silver-lamé frocks accessorised with green Doc Martens. And nobody cared that I wore the same 1970s frock to every single drunken student jig. I do not think I live in the same world as the glossies – who does? And who buys** them?

Let me share something amazing and lovely with you: Someone has been leaving small, intricate paper sculptures all over Edinburgh. Who? No one seems to know. It is a woman who proclaims that she is used to “making things” and that she has left these art objects to voice her support for libraries, books, words, and ideas. I absolutely love these objects – I would call them book art rather than artists’ books (there is a distinction, I feel) – and I love the quiet making and placing of them. There is something so utterly wonderful about art objects that do not scream but whisper.

Knitting posts to come soon. Tonight I just wanted to write about slightly more .. cerebral things.

*) Sorry about using italics so much
**) Actually I use italics way too often.

However. Some things are more important than lace knitting. Way, way, way more important: speak up and speak out.

I was sitting on my flight last night and seeing it was a clear night, I could follow our path moving northwards through England. After the pilot informed us we had just passed Manchester, the lights below started become more and more scarce. I leaned against the window. Some time later I saw a massive flood of light in the distance and seeing that the flight path would not have taken us towards Newcastle, there was only one city that could be that big, that lit-up: Glasgow. Home. My body and mind relaxed in that moment with that undefinable, warming sense of belonging there. I have spent so many years feeling like I did not belong somewhere that I still bask in the glory of being home.

Knitterly content: I have three Finished Objects to show off, but no photos so that’ll have to wait. I only have one WIP which is completely disgusting. I do have one project in mind which I’ll start later today..

I have also read several books recently. I’m in a very Victorian mode at the moment.

A few links and quotes:

The New Statesman published an excellent column recently: “You should have your tongue ripped out”: the reality of sexist abuse online.

While I won’t deny that almost all bloggers attract some extremely inflammatory comments — and LGBT or non-white ones have their own special fan clubs, too — there is something distinct, identifiable and near-universal about the misogynist hate directed at women online.

I contacted the columnist afterwards and told her briefly about my own experiences with “interesting” comments on my old literary blog. A male blog reader started stalking me in real life claiming I was “putting it out there” and I had to get the police involved (which was problematic in its own gender-political way).

Nowadays my blog is .. well, I guess this is a craft blog, of sorts, which is situated within a mostly-female space or community. There are still gender issues at play within this ‘community’  – first of which is “can we even lay claim to this being a community”, of course – but it is definitely a different set of issues.

Sarai Mitnick of Colette Patterns went to Quilt Market and was slightly ambivalent. However, I was struck by one thing she wrote:

My impression is that crafty women today (and I include myself) are interested in all kinds of handmade stuff, including clothes, items for their homes (like quilts), food, gardens, you name it. It’s all about bringing the magic of the homemade into every aspect of our lives, of living a life of creativity and meaning, of renewing and reinvigorating a range of traditions.

Finally, have you seen Margaret Atwood has knitted a Great Auk? She is on Ravelry too, of course..

Alva takes one ball of Rowan Kidsilk Haze Stripe (or two balls of regular Kidsilk Haze) and is knitted on 5mm needles. My sample is knitted using sh. 200 (“Twillight”).

I designed Alva because while I love the new KSH yarn, there was a real dearth of patterns available for it. I wanted a simple, straightforward knit which would showcase the colours. Alva is designed for beginning knitters which is why the lace edging is optional (and written out rather than charted). .

I find it is very different to design for yarn support (which I guess Alva is) rather than design for myself. With yarn support, I keep the end user in mind: who would be knitting this pattern? What skill level am I aiming for? How can I make this even easier to knit? I want my design to be accessible to as many people as possible. This is a fun challenge – and actually more than a challenge than it is to design for myself.

My Karise shawl is currently being knitted in a KAL on Ravelry. It was also designed for yarn support, but I took advantage of being able to play around with charts. S. of MooncalfMakes described Karise as having “..a kind of architectural quality to it, like wrought iron-work or granite carvings.” I consider this a huge compliment: I find architecture incredibly inspiring and I hope Karise would have a certain sense of stillness to its lace. It is possibly the closest I have come to designing anything for myself.

I look around Ravelry and I see increasingly complicated lace shawls being showcased. In my own quiet way I guess I’m reacting against that trend. I just don’t get it. I do not want to wear things that have 1001 details. I would feel overwhelmed, drowning in frills and bobbles and twisted stitches. I would much rather wear a carefully edited shawl, something understated, something knowing. Maybe it is the Scandinavian in me, maybe it is because I like sparseness in most things.

And William Carlos Williams and his This Is Just To Say was just as difficult to write as, say, Ezra Pound‘s Cantos (if not more), this liberal arts grad girl would like to point out.

On a whole other note, Fourth Edition is being moved about in the next few weeks. Stay tuned for disruption (unless I manage to work things out quickly).

PS. ‘Tis now the season for CRAP light so until April, expect bad photos.