An evening's fading light














a swatch
the fusion of
extra fine merino
and
silk wrapped steel
entwined
a lantern
floating
in a sea of mist
[to be worn in an evening's fading light]

Haiku Knits : Ravelry

Of desolate spaces

The black celebration of night and shadows
Mingling


Time to sit and collect thoughts that have been flickering and swirling around like faint stars.
Time to go deeper into a mind that has been sidetracked for too long.
A mind that needs to pause and breathe and whisper and knit.
A mind that needs tranquillity and space to understand the pattern of the past few months.
To understand loss and pain. And to be ok with that.
A mind that needs to mend.


Sometimes, the light goes out and darkness prevails.

[Oh, it’s been a while. An unintended absence indeed. The type of absence that saw one week turn into a month and then three [!]. Thank you to everyone who wrote. I’m fine. We are all fine. Your thoughts and well wishes truly kept me going when the patterns of life took over and suddenly there was no time for me.]

Little Big



























Little effort

Big needles

Little time

Big satisfaction

[A little piece that has been streamlined from the original and can now be made with my eyes closed. A simple, quick and easy piece to layer over fitted fine black knits. Did I say quick? I started this morning and have almost finished the front over the course of an afternoon spent drinking ginger tea and chatting with family.]

Details: Habu Lamb Linen in Charcoal and STR Medium-weight in Shadow.

Glistening



























It always starts out as something extraordinary. A wonderful concept. Something different. Unique.

I remember my initial response to Habu - oh those threads of steel wrapped in silk! Remember? First one scarf, then another…
A beautifully constructed jacket [complete with Japanese-only instructions] followed but was soon forgotten as life took over.
Would you believe it’s been sitting in my wardrobe for the best part of
18 months?

I caught a glimpse of something glimmering last week. A glistening glimpse of a sleeve that had been made incorrectly using a fibre that doesn’t react favourably to being unravelled, and, well, the choice was obvious. And so it languished until last week, when I was finally prompted to place an order with Habu…
It won’t be long until deep, dark threads of silken steel are back on my needles…

Ravelry

Layers [of time]

Yesterday 6:30am

Yesterday, somewhere between 6:30 and 6:45am

Yesterday 6:45am

I’m busy knitting. And sewing. And becoming accustomed to this 7 day on/7 day off rotation*.

Actually, it feels like I’m on holiday every other week. And with skies like this I feel like I’m on a Greek island. Except for the morning and evening chill. I can do without the chill.

But really, it’s the most perfect time for socks and cardigans. Layered pieces in the most beautiful charcoal and caramel [thank you Nicole!] and my new favourite, moss green. Creating layers. Layers of time and memories. And beautiful skies.

*One thing I’ll never get used to is the half weekly 8pm-8am shifts. Oh my goodness. Who on earth thought that would be a good idea?

Moments [of Quiet]



























A moment to step back and breathe : A moment to share : A moment to catch up.

My intern year has begun and it’s left me reeling. Reeling and longing for quiet and solitude away from the Emergency Room*. A longing to feel connected. And for time. Time to share and read your blogs and look at your Ravelry and Flickr streams. And time to create. Time to find absolute comfort and joy in making something for the pure fun of it, without the constraints and stress that make up my real life.

The impulse to make things has been stronger than ever. And make I did. I’ve knitted and unravelled and ordered wool and bought patterns. [I’ve even signed a book contract to contribute toward something lovely that will be published later this year.] I’ve sewn and stitched and purchased beautiful wool and cashmere fabrics, made a scarf [or two] and found uses for the pile of Etsuko Furuya that I’ve been adding to over the years.

Time now to package a couple of gifts for the post office tomorrow and catch up on email, perhaps convince my husband to go out for dinner [even though it’s raining and cold] and find the Japanese pattern book I misplaced two weeks ago.

...

* Please, don’t misinterpret… Whilst my work pace right now is beyond hectic, I don’t think I fully imagined how rewarding this job could be. It truly doesn't get much better than treating someone and have them swing past on their way home from being discharged with flowers, or chocolates or a simple hug and thank you. Oh, how the heart sings! I’ve not smiled so much in a long, long time as I have during this past month. It almost makes up for the dark green scrubs we’re forced to wear. Almost.

Steps to an outcome

Monkey sees
Monkey does
And we all fall down

I have opened packages of delicious linen with names like mocha and espresso.

I have stumbled upon long-forgotten organic cotton fabric in colours of sugar and sand.

I have spent an afternoon untangling and winding champagne linen yarn and discovering that knitting with pure linen is probably Not A Very Good Idea.

I have cut out simple fabric neck-warmers in charcoal cashmere [for gifts].

I have shopped for fabulous buttons to adorn said neck-warmers.

I have promised myself something lovely if they’re sewn and sent by the weekend.

I have completed small pieces of texture and darkness that need a post of their own as credit to those who sent wool.

I have started Violette-le-duc, unravelled it and started again - twice. I think it’s my choice of wool and needle size rather than a problem with the actual pattern, although if anyone knows what “do not turn, sl sts to other end of [circular] needle” means, please forgive my ignorance and enlighten me.

I have tried to stop myself from ordering wool for this after seeing this and this.

Willpower, it can be said, is not one of my better traits.

Paint of me a picture grey

Today, I am awash with slate.

I love the dramatic weather changes at the moment – the beautiful shades of onyx, midnight dark and deep charcoal that form soft clouds in a foreboding sky.

Breathtaking dichotomies.

The stark brightness of a long summer gone forever, with promises of dulled newness in the crisp air around us - and a mind turning to appropriate projects to knit: a cloud of softness to envelop and comfort, something to slip on cold feet.

Now the only question is, which sock pattern do I knit next? And in what shade of grey?

Delicious, luscious and lovely-ish















Delicious Whisper-s

Beautiful shaping and attention to detail; A wonderful neckline that continues around the back and seemingly comes out of nowhere to flutter gently at each side. My only grumble has been the sleeves which, in hindsight, should be narrower and slightly longer, but that is an oversight on my part [incorrect needle size] rather than the pattern. In all, a lovely pattern that knits up quickly and easily.

Luscious Shadow-s

A deep, dark charcoal containing delicate threads of silver grey throughout… Colours of the night. Black-ish, decadent and luscious.
And very grown up.

Lovely-ish

Hmmm, it was a good idea, really it was. Whisper, dark and elegant… Lovely, I imagined. Styl-ish and chic, I surmised. Oh, the pattern is lovely. So is the wool. Perhaps not so lovely together, but there is potential… And a plan to make it again.


[Theresa and I would like to thank everyone for stopping by and supporting our new venture. We are so very appreciative of your comments and hope you’ll continue to be a part of our dream.]

Pause for breath









Sometimes there is magic around me…

The tranquillity of pure whiteness against the muddled chaos of life : Snippets of our day, seen through eyes and heart : Images paired together to tell a story : A documentation of captured moments over the course of a year, with something tactile to keep at the end : A detour into the senses : A moment to pause : for breath…

A collaboration : Between 2 : Deliberate yet coincidental : Twice a week

Sometimes, there is a need to look beyond the difficult times, and to focus on something beautiful…

A Coat for Stories















For now, she need not think of anything except the warmth from the fireplace and the joy of just being. It was very tempting, after all this being, to put her coat on and venture outdoors. She had, after all, by some means or another, acquired this splendid coat - a very fine coat, indeed, with it’s blossom prints and soft, inviting colours.

A Coat for Twirling : round and round as the soft mesh of the grey-blue morning air wraps and envelops…
A Coat for Adventures : for long walks along cobble-stone paths, with fluffy dogs on rhinestone leads…
A Coat for Dreams : of enchanted gardens with sparkling fountains, opulent purple rivers and rolling emerald hills…
A Coat for Imaginings : of magical boat rides on azure waters, favourite flowers and pure white swans…

Suddenly, her mind wandered to far away lands and the mystery of an unseen aunt who sent gifts every once in a while. Boxes of varying sizes would be handed to her upon arrival, each containing an array of things, wrapped in layers of tissue and tied with the prettiest ribbon she ever did see. Gifts made with love - to be adored, played with and treasured. She would, she thought, ask her aunt for a hat! Yes, a hat. And perhaps a matching scarf, lined with the same floral print as her coat…


[A Coat for Stories : Habu Lambswool/linen in Charcoal : Lined in Liberty of London floral print : A girly coat, without being overly so : To be worn with a fine merino wool pant : In charcoal, of course : Pattern to follow : Size: Petite - and maybe one for big girls too.]

Unsaid words















A little solitary flower on dark charcoal wool. A little floral enclosure, to hug and comfort. A little flower proudly guarding what is concealed within. A little gift with a lovely story waiting to be told.

And so much left unsaid…

I feel like I’ve lived the last six weeks a thousand times over: A thousand emotions, a thousand words, a thousand flowers. A thousand attempts at putting thoughts into words and words into order to form a post – nothing. My thoughts are in disarray. My words, lost. My mind, full.

For those who don’t know what’s happened, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the lack of sense. For those who do, please know that I’ve held onto your messages with all my might. Your words became mine as I found myself repeating snippets of what you conveyed: Your insight into the mysteries of time and healing; the comforting promises of eventual peace and above all, your own personal stories of death and loss.

I am mending. The darkness is slowly fading. That long held breath is finally being released.

Touches




















▪ Details, knitted

▪ Little pieces, made along the way

▪ Textures, in grey

▪ Mixes, of fibre

▪ With touches of onyx, emerald and ruby

▪ Small distractions

▪ A desire to recover from the past week

▪ And to breathe again…

[Thank you to everyone who has emailed or left beautiful comments over at Flickr. Thank you also to those who sent cards, gifts and flowers. Your kindness has touched our hearts and will never be forgotten. Chris deserves a post by way of explanation but I need to find the words first.]

i : ii : iii : iv

Songs of friendship















The soft touch of alliance formed by countless words whispered across the miles.
Calm enfolds of the handmade contained within a beautiful box, unique and lovely in it’s purpose.
The delightful scent of dried flowers to invade the senses, a twinkling star to guide…
A book so personal it took my breath away. A burst of Parisienne red.
A sewing-roll, crafted with absolute thoughtfulness and wrapped in love. The original needle left inside, for me to use as I, in turn, create.
Details so exquisite, I’ll let Theresa tell you.
And a little bird caged in filigree, sings a song of generous friendship.

[The needle-book pattern is available via t does wool or you can leave a comment here. Please include your email.]