Month: October 2015

kira makes more stitches (a catch-all knitting post)

The last 23 days or so have just been short posts for the #drawlloween challenge. I haven’t updated much else. But I have been knitting.

Mirkwood is sadly set aside, having never regained momentum after the cat-attack. While the work has been salvaged, the semi-deadline has passed, so there’s less motivation to keep working on it. I do plan to get back to it, but am just taking a break.

In the meantime, I cast on a new project. (Of course. It’s not like I have a zillion projects waiting for me to finish them…)

I had purchased some “souvenir yarn” during my trip to Seattle — Manos del Uruguay Maxima in Beehive and Knitted Wit Victory Sock in Market Flowers (exclusive Seattle colorway). I was eager to try something with these new yarns, since starting new projects is always exciting.

I cast on with the Maxima, test knitting stockinette, linen-stitch, a chunky lace, and a few others, frogging each time before settling on the star-stitch pattern of “Holding Hands, Feeding Ducks.”


The scarf is wider that the original pattern, and I knit until I ran out of yarn, resulting in a short scarf, good for tucking into one’s jacket. I still haven’t weaved in the ends, because I am lazy.

I also mended a machine-knit sweater. One of my favorites had gone through the wash and emerged with a broken strand that unraveled the stitches several inches wide.

Rock & Republic - Unraveled

Rock & Republic - Repaired

Using the crochet hook I’d been using for beading on Mirkwood (the hook is 0.5mm!!), I picked up all the unraveled stitches, and re-bound off the edge. I wouldn’t say it’s as good as new, because it slightly puckers there, but in the overall design of the sweater, I think it is virtually unnoticeable.

I’ve picked up the Les Misérables scarf/wrap again. I’ve decided to use all the balls of the yarn I have, and it will be very long. It is already… very long. I don’t know how much it will shrink when felted (technically, fulled). Part of me wonders if I want to felt it at all. I guess we’ll see when it’s done.

Les Misérables - with Cats

On a side note, the kittens are getting quite big.


kira makes ponderings

For most people, the big question isn’t “when did you start drawing?” but “when did you stop drawing?”
— from “The Cognitive Benefits of Doodling”

I haven’t posted many words here lately. In fact, it’s mostly just been images for the #drawlloween challenge. I have been participating fairly steadily, only delayed a few times posting here, since I’ve mainly been posting them in the shared album on Facebook.

The challenge has definitely gotten me thinking. Particularly about my current blank page phobia.

The first drawing I made small on a whim. A tiny ghost. Because I didn’t want to spend a lot of time making an elaborate ghost, and the typical “ghost” shape is a little boring. And tiny is cute! So I got out the smallest tipped pen at my work desk (Micron 005) and easily doodled a tiny little ghost on a pad of scrap paper, snapped a picture with my iPhone using a penny for scale and uploaded it as-is. Quick. Simple. Done.

The next day, the prompt was devil. Thinking the same method, I doodled a tiny devil in just a few seconds, snapped the picture, uploaded it, and was done. Easy.

Drawlloween sheets
(For reference, each sheet is only 4.25″ x 7″)

Sometimes, the doodle would end up wonky; attempting to put too much detail in a small space, lines overlapping in confusing ways, etc. But since the drawings were so small a quick to do, scribbling them out (or just moving to a different part of the same sheet of paper), and giving it another go was not an issue. Hardly a thought passed, apart from, “Ah, let me try that again.”

Unlike when I am trying to draw “for real”… I get too serious, agonizing over everything, holding it as precious. Worrying about if/when I mess up. All of this to the point where I become paralyzed with the anticipation of ruining it before I even lay pen to paper. I don’t know what I think will happen… the worst case really is that I scrap the drawing and start again fresh.

But in my mind, there is the fear.

Fear that turns every small worry into something huge. That if I fail at something, then I am a failure. Fear that turns each penstroke into a symbol of my worthiness. Fear of the judgement of others, even if no one else actually sees the work. Fear of being discovered a fraud (see imposter syndrome). How can I call myself an artist, if I am no good?

Well, sillyhead, how can you call yourself an artist, if you don’t make any art, altogether?

Which brings up another writing I read recently, “You Can’t Run From Yourself Forever”

“In that moment, I also felt the disengenousness of being an artist that didn’t make art.”

I know the solution is to just do it. Just start. Somewhere, anywhere. It doesn’t matter where. Just take the first step.

These tiny doodles are like the tiniest of baby steps. But at least it’s in the right direction.