awayuq

knitted gauze

For some time I´ve been interested in gauze weaves and lacy things in general. Woven gauzes often have a sort of zigzag pattern, where the zigzags are defined by different densities. As far as I know, gauzes are no longer being woven in Peru. But last night, looking around for a sweater (it´s cold here!) I came across a triangular lace shawl which at first glance looked a lot like a gauze weave. It had zigzags of different open textures. It turned out to be knitted out of very fine alpaca yarn; the different textures were created with open garter stitch and with some kind of brioche stitch. It was a very effective pattern, and quite pretty. It reminded me how effective the combination of different simple stitches can be, when each has a different density.

As for my own personal knitting, it hasn´t progressed too much... I started the peacock shawl in the airport and it helped salvage my sanity during the journey from ****. I had the worst trip I¨ve ever experienced. Thank goodness I had yarn with me.

where did she go?

"Time is round and it rolls quickly." Tomorrow is departure day. My house is mess, with suitcases spread open and stuff piled high on the kitchen island, all the little Do Not Forgets that need to be tucked in at the last minute. The decision to bring shawl knitting is a good one; the yarn for two shawls has been wound into only two balls, admirably compact and light. It's possible that some alpaca sock knitting will find its way into a nook in the carryon, for times when I want to knit but don't want to concentrate on a lace pattern. I've been considering taking my chumpi weaving tools, the little bag of handspun yarns and shed sticks, but that is looking more and more unlikely as I contemplate all the work-related supplies I have to carry.

I hope to have some fiber adventures on this trip, creating things I bring with me and finding interesting things there. So there may well be postings here while I'm away, but they are likely to be irregular. I'm not at all sure about pictures; finding a place to upload may be a challenge. Please be patient and come back at the end of August, there should be lots of pictures then!

If you are interested in not just fiber stuff but Peru traveling in general, you are welcome to visit my travel blog, which I expect to be updating fairly frequently.

And I promise to take an "after" picture of the skirt, to prove just how dirty I can be.

mi pollera

Finished the wool skirt for the highlands. It's not too stylish (except perhaps for the embossed czech buttons, which are not visible in the photograph, and the red velvet waist facing) but these ample folds are going to keep me warm. With petticoats and long underwear underneath, and wool sweaters and a poncho on top, I'll at least feel as if I made a good effort to anticipate climactic conditions. I'm told it's a cold winter in Peru this year, and as I contemplate packing, trying to eliminate as much as possible, I'm experiencing some pangs for for the imminent loss of summer weather. (Besides, you can fit so many more summer clothes into a suitcase!) Yesterday I passed a guy riding a lawnmower around a tree on a tiny patch of grass, and the smell! The smell of cut grass, drying in the sun. Nothing like it. It reminds me of hot fields with corn swelling on the stalk, the fragrance of tomato leaves and the raptures of fresh basil...

My new favorite trick for button loops: linen thread, crocheted over with yarn to match the color of the garment. Why linen thread? Have you ever tried to break linen thread? Exactly. That's why. I also used it to sew on the buttons. The hem is deep and machine stitched, so this skirt should be pretty durable. It will have to be. I guess I'm all set then... wool socks, got those; sweaters, yep... petticoats, yes, gloves, poncho, hat... oh, my hat. Hmm. It's a little the worse for wear, ever since it got caught in a true deluge last year. It got so wet that the dye started running out and over my clothes. Each pigtail was dripping inky plops. You should have seen me afterwards, trying to wash my hair in a bucket of freezing rainwater. The brim used to be rather perky, and the crown had a distinguished shape, but now it looks more or less like a deflated soufflee. Perhaps I'll find another one.

curving paper

I happened across a NYT article this morning called Cones, Curves, Shells, Towers about a mathematician who studied origami. Not, as the article points out, the origami of simple "animal" shapes for which you find instructions in a package of squares of colored paper. Rather, an extension of these principles to nested shapes, elegant figures, curved creases. He discovered some mathematical properties of paper folding, and the article states that the study of technical folding now touches on fields such as computational geometry, number theory, coding theory and linear algebra. This list immediately perks up my mental ears-- coding theory, khipu? linear algebra, weaving? number theory, texels and terraces? Does technical folding have anything to teach us about textile planes and possibilities?

I encourage you to go look at the pictures of his sculptures before the article is taken off line. I wish I could fold paper like that! It brought to mind The Art Of Manipulating Fabric, a fabulous reference for all kinds of tucks, pleats, darts, ruches and more. Fabric is, after all, planar (at least sometimes). Origami depends on the stiffness of paper for the forms to keep their shape, but even so... perhaps it is time to consider some artistically folded sleeves. Or curved pintucks.

alpaca found a home.

The purple alpaca handspun has arrived at Mom's house. She professes herself delighted and says the shade will match her winter coat perfectly and there's a shawl she's been wanting to make and this yarn will work wonderfully. Hooray! Yarn with a happy home, no longer in my house.

my leaves are blooming!

Here we are up through the end of chart 1. The pattern looks fairly complex, the chart is pretty involved, but it's actually not hard to knit. Once you get the first few rounds established, you can tell where the leaves are going to be, and it's not hard to keep your place. The leaves are patterned on every other row, but the faggoting and waves are patterned every row. I love the waves, or maybe they are fronds? symmetrical swooshes? in the center of each side.

Last night I glanced at the picture in the book again and it's clear that my scale is very different than what's shown. The part in the photo above is about a foot square. The design looks as though it is easily extensible by repeating chart 2 as necessary, so I may just keep going until I have a nice large square, reserving yarn for the border. It will only get bigger, so this is the last time I'll be able to spread it all out until it's done. Part of knitting lace is trust in the final transformation.

pre-trip crazies

Confession: the knitting issue uppermost in my mind these days is what projects to take for summer traveling. I'll be away two months, in conditions from moderate to grungy, with severe space and weight limitations on what I can carry. The limitations argue for project(s) which grant a lot of knitting per unit mass of material. (Did someone say lace?) The conditions mandate taking something that won't be a tragic loss if it falls off a mountain, gets smooshed, or spit on by a llama. The itinerary demands that I take *something*, because as far as I know good yarn opportunities do not exist until the very end of the trip. (At which point I stock up on kilos of alpaca for the coming year).

The Frost Flowers shawl is totally, utterly entrancing to me. With the Count of Monte Cristo playing to my ears, and my fingers busy with those intricate leaves, I am as peaceful as it's possible to be this close to departure. However-- it's tiny tiny needles and precious silk-wool yarn in a light color. If I take it, I'll have to steel myself to possible disasters. I'll have to be willing to not care if it gets dusty and dirty. Big Blue O (the orenburg) may be a better candidate, because of its darker color and simpler construction. Still pretty tiny needles though. I think I will definitely take one of the last two shawl kits, the Peacock shawl or Summer in Kansas, because both take up relatively little space, I can use slightly bigger needles (maybe even 3's?), and the colors are not ones I care about. It's not that I don't like them, but I don't think I'll wear them myself; one is a sort of mauve, the other is silvery grey. They would be perfect for my mother and stepmother respectively, so I'll think I'll make those shawls to give away. Somehow that eases my mind about the possibility of loss or accident.

Maybe some plain-knit socks. Because they needn't be patterned, so I don't have to concentrate, and they are small and packable, and immediately useable once finished. If only I could find non-metal needles for magic looping so I could take them on the plane. I've sworn off bamboo needles smaller than 2s or 3s, since breaking several #1 circs. Is it possible to magic loop with plastic? Do they even make plastic #1 circulars?

symmetry at first glance

This morning my copies of "Symmetry Comes of Age" arrived. How exciting! I've only had a chance to leaf through the book, but I'm very pleased. It's a heavy hardbound volume, thick paper, good photos and illustrations. The layout is nice; each contribution has a different little motif above the title on the first page, related to the pictures within that section. I'm trying to be objective. Here's the disclaimer: I have an article in this book! It is thrilling to finally have something I wrote be between hard covers. And in such illustrious company! How did I ever make it into a volume with these people?

--Ed and Chris Franquemont, Andean weaving experts ("Learning to Weave in Chinchero")
--Mary Frame, Andean textile expert
--Branko Grunbaum, mathematician who co-authored the most complete book ever on plane symmetries
--Paulus Gerdes, mathematician who studies geometry and art in Africa

In all truth, I think it will be an important volume to that small group of people who care about the cultural practice of symmetry. As a textile person, I'd certainly read it for the Franquemonts and Mary Frame; there's also a piece on turkish weaving, and a piece which I believe discusses Shipibo cloth (upper Amazon). This is a book to spark many ideas.

My article is "Creating Symmetry On the Loom", an analysis of plane symmetry patterns and how to recreate them structurally with a floor loom. Hexagonal arrangements are not discussed, but the article outlines how to achieve any of the other 12 plane symmetries by manipulating the threading, tie-up and treadling. Only four shafts are required. Since western use of symmetry emhasizes the bilateral, I think it's interesting to know how to create rotations and glides in fabric structure, not just reflections. It can lead to fabrics with a familiar feel, but surprising details.

a new leaf

There is no doubt that I'm a structure person. It's inescapeable. Occasionally I think I'll be happy knitting yards of stockinette with a lovely yarn, but I am always wrong. It's things like this that really thrill me. This is probably the most complex lace I've attempted so far, and I find it difficult to put it down to go to bed or go to work. The pattern is the Frost Flowers shawl from A Gathering Of Lace. It starts in the center and grows outward in four sections. For a long time it's been on my "to try" list, and in the process of tidying the studio I came across the xerox I'd made of the pattern to work from. (It occurs to me that I should tidy that room more often). The first rows are fiddly, they always are with center-out items. I tried a magic loop approach and so far it's working well. The yarn is a silk-wool blend, laceweight I suppose (label long since lost). Needles are #0. Here's an idea of the scale:

stick your fingers in

Last week's weaving lesson. (I am not the lovely blonde). It got me to thinking about weaving much more. Over the weekend I was tempted to wind a warp, but I don't think I'd even get it threaded before I go away. So I got out this instead, from several years ago:

It's cotton gauze, 2x2 alternating crossings. Apparently I was experimenting with patterning with holes, by switching from 2x2 to 1x1 and back. One of the nice things about working with gauze is that the threads are widely spaced, so changing sheds takes no effort, in contrast to woolen warp-faced fabrics.