SistahCraft

Bouyed By Benevolence

The Seamen's Church Institute

(A scale model of a Gloucester fisherman; unidentified American schooner from late 19th-century to early 20th-century; weight, 50 tons or more. Property of the institute. All pics enlarge)

The One That Got Away

Recently one evening, weaving through the homeward bound Financial District's worker bees, en route to a Sit n' Knit meetup, at the Seamen's Church Institute, I was shook by a memory. I was a little girl, sitting in the kitchen, my mom telling me about her relationship with Frezel, an African merchant seaman who was in love with her, before she met her husband, my father. Back in the day the myth was, that seamen were prized marriage prospects. They made good money, accumulated from long voyages (if not disposed to gambling), and they brought back beautiful gifts. Indeed, I loved visiting my aunt C.'s house; it was a museum of Oceania, filled with the souvenirs of her former marriage to one. My mom however, surface dweller that she was, went for my father's looks instead. Frezel it seemed, bowed out with dignity, returned to the sea, and later married.

Suddenly, I considered Frezel's reality––spending weeks, months even out to sea, it's actually a hard and dangerous life. Did he come here? 

A Vision On Land

(Beyond macramé; a homage to the old church)

The institute, now inhabiting a new building is awesome! Designed inside and out to resemble an ocean liner, it sports a collection of old and new marine artifacts that are marvelously juxtaposed.* The upper floor, which make up the roof deck are perfect for a fab event (hear that, Florence?), but provides unpretentious comfort to the visiting mariners––its primary purpose.

(A wall of warmth; and this is just the scarves)

 I ogled my way up the stairs at the  collection,  then entered the expansive yarn room. Folks, my photos would do it no justice; believe me, this room should be made a knitting heritage site. Nonetheless, the intimate group seated around the table were chatting and knitting away, with the nonchalance of––been there, felt that. Me? I was busy taking pics. Suddenly I felt bemused; Sahara, you're acting like a damn fool. Okay now. Regaining my cool, I joined the group to a cordial, but friendly reception, warming up considerably, as the evening progressed.

(L to R; Jeanette, Angela, and Vicky) 

 (Our host; Jeanette, with her lighthouse smile).

Guiding Light

Jeanette Devita is the manager for the institute's Christmas At Sea program. The yarn room (swoon) may be her office, but I can see why it wouldn't faze her; this sister works assiduously, coordinating the efforts of  thousands of volunteer knitters and crocheters across the country, who produce what looks like an ocean of accessories that are distributed to close to 20,000 seamen. Ancestors!

 (You are here; the volunteers)

But hey, it's not about the yarn. "I'm really fortunate to be able to reach out and connect with the knitters and seamen," she says. I ask her about the tallying of all those goods. There are volunteers who come in once a week to assist, but ultimately? The connection's in the touch for Jeanette. "Every stitch of every scarf I handle connects a knitter to a seaman." Damn. Damn. I wonder if the woman Frezel eventually married, knew how to knit or crochet. I hope so.

To learn more about this extraordinary organization, and get involved, click on the the link.

*Album pics of this beautiful building, are in the side bar.

  

Speak On it, My Sistahs––The "Speak Out!" Show

In The Eye Of The Calm

(the pupil of "Peace Meditation of the Third Eye", by Robyn Mahone-Lonesome; All pics enlarge.)

A lot of self-help guides advise you to express your feelings to the intended, in the form of a letter, if you can't communicate them verbally. "Speak Out!", the exhibition attended by myself and Mr. K at the
Frank H. Williams Caribbean Cultural Center last weekend, had me thinking about the shows description as a correspondence, giving voice to a group of women––The Harlem Girls Quilting Circle––addressing issues affecting them, me, and whether you know it or not––you too.

I am largely a knitter, but I like to look for the connecting threads between diverse mediums to obtain inspiration. This show had my head spinning. The issues, investigated through the modern manipulation of a trad feminine form––the techniques, color, power, size, and beauty––bum-rushed my brain in a kaleidoscopic convergence.

The result, was a viscerally, sensory experience; your first thought is not the "gee, these are really nice quilts," kind of pleasantness you get from other shows of similar medium. When you enter, and the first quilt you see reflects the past and present state of Harlem, N.Y., now a real estate epicenter, depicted in a marvelously cohesive member-assigned block quilt––it's more like "Wow, what the *&#@?!"

Harlem On Their Minds

(Harlem 2008, in a nutshell; the HGQC group quilt; machine pieced by Ann Alvarez, machine quilted by Laura R. Gadson)

The messages, while personal to the circle, were certainly not intended for an inaccessible audience; and believe me, the audience came out in force! The issues––injustice, the criminal system, economics, health-care––aren't new, but that's not the point. As the blandness of email makes it easier to delete what you don't want to deal with, the attraction of these quilts, is quite the corollary; like letters written in a sensuous hand, on handmade rice paper with a
Faber-Castel––their beauty renders the subject matter even more compelling to read, no matter how chilling.

(My Country, Tis'  of Greed, by Laura R. Gadson. Flag. Cotton with mixed media embellishments; 2008)

But unlike paper correspondence, this is too powerful to be mentally balled up and thrown away as some of the same guides advise, the importance being "closure". No y'all, this is a trad form of expression turned on its head, to express everything from outrage to a mechanism for coping. And true to our sistah selves, the imagery was bold and to the point––but hey, how else are some folks eventually going to "get it?"

(You GO, grrls; artists Robyn Mahone-Lonsome and Michelle Bishop, in front of a meditation quilt by Paula Wynter).

"Speak Out!" isn't all about facing confounding issues. As in life, there are ways to cope, and these methods are displayed in works that soothe and heal, through balance and meditation. Paula Wynter's diptych, "Meditation: All The Pain And Suffering In the World", and "Meditation: All The Happiness In The World", is inspired by the practice of Tonglen. Unfinished works, they invite the viewer to add to the sending out of the pain and suffering of themselves and others, and then to send out happiness to us all. "Peace Meditation of the Third Eye" comes with an actual mantra to repeat.

At The End Of The Day, Why You Should Go

(Detail of HGQC's group quilt; transfer, magic marker, applique, machine stitched)

The HGQC is an independent circle of Harlem based sistahs who meet regularly to quilt. Together for a number of years, their works grace many private collections. In order to share their refreshingly modern perspectives with the public, they raise money for, and mount many of their own exhibitions. This group effort enables you to enjoy a stereotype-free experience, lacking censorship from the technique dominated, lulling shawl of passivity of many local group shows. I'm sending a HUGE shout out to the Cultural Center for hosting this show; and to my girls at HGQC, for inspiring me with new ways to communicate.

Now, I'ma say this once more. If you're looking for new ways to communicate, there will be a panel discussion with the artists about their way of working together, on April 30th, and then––African-inspired quilting workshops on the 7th, 14th, and 21st of June; for more info, contact Monthina Williams at the center––RSVP early for these, my friends, the instructor is Ife Felix, one of the founders; these workshops don't happen often, and they fill up quickly. So be there, or you're only a square!

Happy New Year! Springing Up, and Out towards the Sunlight––Row 1

My Vacation To Do List, For Art, Music, And Whatever!

(Up close, it's mind boggling! "Peace Meditation of the Third Eye." Quilt, by Robin Mahone-Lonesome; photo, D. James Dee; all pics enlarge).

Friends! I feel blessed to be on vacation in time to celebrate Easter, the beginning of the New Year, along with a number of other cultures on our planet. I long ago gave up on the Gregorian Calendar––looking out of my window at New Year's––I saw no newness.

Now as the daffodils are starting to push up from the ground in my building's courtyard, I'm feeling my own upward push toward renewal and creative growth. Which is exactly why––tomorrow––Mr. K and I are out the door for the opening reception, of new works by the intrepidly creative sistahs of The Harlem Girls Quilting Circle. My girl (and one of the artists exhibiting) Michelle Bishop, blessed me with this info.

Speak Out!––is a correspondence, using the quilt medium to represent the voices of a group of women fearlessly exploring the social issues impeding our progress at the present time. Taking place in collaboration with the Franklin H. Williams Caribbean Cultural Center (they have a most beautiful intro for their 30th anniversary), it's happening from 5 to 8 p.m. in the gallery. RSVP to Monthina Williams at 212 307 7420, ext. 3006. The suggested donation is $5.00US, C.C.C.A.D.I. members free.

Now, if you cannot make the opening, it's okay, the best is yet to come! Put this in your calendar. There will be a panel discussion with the artists next month, and an African-inspired quilt workshop, in June. And trust me, these sistahs rarely hold workshops, so ya' don't wanna miss it! (Ya' hear that Trina?). The show is up until June 27th.

Tie A Yellow Ribbon, In The Following Places!

The fantastic film of my ubiquitous co-worker, Joy Dietrich, is on the move! For those of ya'll who inquired, I know it's been a minute, but festival season is here, and with it––screenings! Check this link, then go and tell her Sahara said hi! And hey––holla' back with your thoughts on this movie.

Okay, I gotta go put some food in me, so I can come back and put up another post, about my arm's-length list of places to go and people to see!

A New Perspective Has Arrived!

Check It Out

(Cover, the art of Xenobia Bailey; all pics enlarge)

Forgive my delay in posting of the arrival of Black Purl Magazine's  inaugural print issue; don't worry, it's still relevant.

Why Do We Need Another Needlecraft Magazine?

And one that features people of color? Haven't we moved on? My answer is I don't think so, not in America. Needlework is not immune, from the same prejudices that influence opinion in our society. There are few popular needlework periodicals that I've seen, whose content and contributors accurately reflects this nation's mosaic on a regular basis. And though I'm aware of the financial equation that makes e-zines more conducive to inclusion, as opposed to print (this is one excuse I hear), we all want to put our feet up and enjoy a print edition occasionally. And Black Purl will still maintain its e-zine, so join up.

What about marketing? This is another excuse. Marketing deals with who you see, and that sight is based on perception. However, the birth of great ideas are often the result of this narrow mindedness. Men now have their own needlework mags, meaning they no longer have to wait for a woman-focused publication to produce a special issue for them––and neither do I. On the flip side, I was honored to have had my design accepted for the inaugural issue of Men Knit. So, as far as an ethnic knitting mag––well, why not?

What's In It For You?

Black Purl is choc full of interesting patterns, and articles that render inspiration, advice, and encouragement. There's a feature on Xenobia Bailey, an internationally recognized fiber artist, whose work is only now achieving appreciation from the mainstream art establishment in this country. Contributors include Afi Scruggs, Donna Druchunas, Paloma Parra and publisher, L'Tanya Durante, as well as myself and others. Book reviews focus on global needlework, expanding our awareness of the cross-cultural references of our world. Best, is the inclusion of different types of needlecraft––a little something for everyone.

But Is It All That?

There is room for improvement; but hey, to go from an e-zine to a glossy mag in a year, is an achievement in itself, especially when the editors are all busy sisters and brothers juggling jobs, families, and publishing issues. That said, I give a huge thanks to L'Tanya, Sonja, and the rest of the staff.

Please support the efforts of these amazing folk, in their aim to produce a 'zine online and in print, that promotes our diversity in craft and perspective. It is my hope that soon, the sight of me, or another brother or sister performing any form of needlework will evoke an intelligent exchange, rather than an exclamation of disbelief.

Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall

"Everybody Is A Star…"song by Sly and The Family Stone 

(This lovely shell, Modeled by my friend Naomi Dagen Bloom, is my first commercial knitting pattern. So far, it will be available at Knitty City. don't worry, I'll have another outlet shortly; stay tuned).

I have been asked about my choice of using an "older woman" to model my shell ("do ya' think the patterns will sell?"). Hmmm. Let me address this assumption. Of course, they'll [the patterns] will sell.

To be honest, I was not attempting to make a major statement; I like Naomi's look. Any political implications, arise from my belief that visual products featuring women, should portray different types of beauty. So far, the images I see of older women in fashion-centered media still tend to be, well, fashionable. I'm glad that the fall issue of Vogue Knitting includes an older model; nevertheless, she's still a model. She looks as if she lives to give dinner parties every night. I, however, have more control over the look of my pattern covers; therefore, I decided to put my camera where my eye was.

It is my wish to use a variety of women and girls of different ages and ethnic groups. Then, maybe, it will take some of the work out of trying to picture oneself in an outfit, when confronted with a model. And, once we get used to the reality of our reflection, we will start to see ourselves as beautiful, instead of turning the model, into either an unrealistic goal of attainment, or an object of envy or hate.  

It's very liberating, to be able to use a friend who is as beautiful inside, as out. Our shoot went well, and I did manage to finish in time to get lunch.

The final pattern will be democratically sized, and contain back and detailed views––here's a peak.

Oh, and I finished the neckline and front armholes, using a row of single crochet––see? Not too painful.

Check out Naomi's energetic blog, A Little Red Hen, for the latest on knitting, community and resisting the status quo.

Musing About Mistakes–A Conversation With Lisa Kartus

"A correct answer is like an affectionate kiss." Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 1749 - 1832

Does This Image Make You Feel Uncomfortable?

Yesterday, I had a conversation with Lisa Kartus, the author of Knit Fix (see previous post for the book review). We talked about problem solving, knitters attitudes towards their errors, empowerment through correction, and my own personal bugaboo. Hey! Just because I didn't have a mistake to present for fixing, doesn't mean I'm immune––there's always one lurking around the corner. Oops!

Lisa, tell me about your inspiration for writing this book. Did it arise from your experiences as a sweater doctor and teacher? Did your own frustration with obtaining answers come into play?
This is the book I wanted and needed, first earlier in my knitting career, then as a teacher. Since I was a full-time journalist when I took up knitting again as an adult, I was pretty good at asking questions. But I do have this tendency to knit in the wee small hours of the morning, so problem-solving became part of my knitting.  Later on, my knitting students would ask for a book that they could take home to remind them what I'd shown them. Now they have one.

What did you do when your cousin was not around?
The simple fact that she was reachable allowed me to take risks with my knitting, to try to figure out stuff for myself.  I rarely surprised Shirley with what I'd invented, but every time I invented my own fix, she was pleased.  Nothing like approval.

Indeed! My own problem solving abilities were nurtured by parents whose mantra a lot of the time was, 'figure it out.'  This played out in my knitting by painstakingly unraveling, following the path of the loops made, until I was able to figure out what happened, and correct it. I quickly learned to knit slowly and deliberately, using every row counter and stitch marker available, in order to minimize the margin for error. Boy, was it a headache though, sometimes.

Speaking of headaches, when knitters come to you for help, what is the general state of anxiety, or exasperation––if there is one?
The knitters who are going to turn into good or great knitters come in looking for a solution to the mystery on their needles. They want to do the fix themselves -- I'll talk them through it. We all get exasperated sometimes, but it doesn't pay off.

And how do you respond to their distress?
A few years ago one of my students was making a top out of that slippery railroad yarn, and managed to drop a few stitches. If you ever worked with that stuff, you know that one dropped stitch immediately led to an avalanche of dropped stitches. She was in a panic. "We'll fix it," I told her. "I'll tell you when to panic.  And it's not now." We fixed it, sitting on the carpeted floor (carpet holds knitting stitches like Velcro).

And what is their response to your advice? Especially if it is of the extreme fix type?
Sometimes we practice deep breathing.

Tee hee––sorry. : )
But once you've fixed something successfully, you have such a sense of accomplishment. The more extreme the fix, the bigger the rush. However, it sure helps to know what went wrong and how to avoid it next time––that's why there's the "Test-driving" section in Knit Fix.

Oh my goodness––carpet! I didn't know that. I'm working on a lace evening wrap right now, and the yarn has sections of rayon in it. Unraveling a mistake makes me feel like I'm de-activating a bomb. Thanks so much for that!

So sorry for the interruption. I get happy when I find out something new. Anyway, do you feel that a number of the fiasco's you encounter, are the result of a poor foundation in the basics?
Most new knitters don't know how to read their stitches, which I regard as a basic. But that's easily remedied, since there are really only two knit stitches; everything else is a variation on those two. The biggest lack I see has to do with holding tension.

Wow. Tension was a big issue I had to deal with when I was a volunteer at the Harlem Knitting Circle.
There's a reason why I refer to tension in my book as the "too-often-unexplained mystery of knitting."  In my view, tension should be taught either with or immediately following the knit stitch. Think how much easier it is to pick up that new stitch through the old one when you're holding tension.

You know, as a result of the "knitting boom", I had to help a lot of the knitters unlearn bad habits. I also had to do a lot of damage control. Many shops here were giving rather hasty lessons, to get their potential customers started. Beginners bought yarn, needles, and learned the Garter stitch.

One young lady who was stuck, thought that doing Garter stitch WAS knitting! She never learned Stockinette, because the shop didn't want to discourage her, with the perceived difficulty of learning how to purl.
Do you know, I can actually think of two students who I had to surprise into even trying the purl stitch.  There's a comfort level to garter stitch––repeating the same hand motions over and again. It's almost hypnotic. For some people, that's what knitting is and what they want from it.
   
Remember, too, that so much of knitting involves muscle memory. It's hard to unlearn bad habits that your hands are doing apparently on their own. However––and this is a big however––good shops have good teachers. And good teachers get their students to push themselves to the next level. There's always something new to try in knitting.

Your book opens with a tone of forgiveness and comfort. What have you observed about the attitude of knitters you've encountered, towards their mistakes?
Sometimes they feel silly to have made a mistake. Or they're angry at themselves for messing up.  Some students regard mistakes as someone else's fault. 

Yeah, I've heard that too. I always wonder who.
But once they learn that to err is human and, best yet, knitting errors are fixable, it tends to change those attitudes.  At least towards their knitting.

You tell the reader that there are mistakes they are going to fix, again and again. In our "one-shot-deal, perfection oriented, winner-take-all society, this must be quite a message. I mean, a lot of folks knit because they feel it is something that they can have control over.
Knitting is a process. Every process has its own errors. Take control of the errors and you take control of the process. In your own knitting, Sahara, how often do you unknit? Stop to pick up a stitch that you just dropped?

Tee hee, with this darn wrap, it seems like all the time.
That's part of knitting for all of us. Especially since 9/11, knitting has become a comfort zone for more and more of us, a break not only from the winner-take-all attitude but also from the sense of lost control.

While volunteering, I observed a lot of the women's attitude toward their mistakes and their knitting in general, had a direct correlation with their self-esteem. The higher the self-esteem, the more willing they were to do what was necessary to mend the project. A mistake suddenly didn't become a metaphor for everything else that was wrong in their lives.

I also found a difference between the knitters who were willing to forgive, move on, and deal with the solution––and those who would consistently just settle, even when shown better way to do something. How did you help knitters like this, if you came across them?
But are they just settling? Or have they figured out where knitting fits in their life, and are enjoying it? That's what I want to know.

Hmmm, I didn't think of that. Honest contentment.
That's why the book's chapter on "Your Knitting Philosophy" is the first chapter. However, it is true that our attitude towards life is reflected in our knitting. I have seen knitters who found that by taking control of their knitting they were taking control of a part of their life, and that control seeped into other parts.

The best for me, was to see women gain confidence through the ability to correct their mistakes. As such, their projects became more challenging, enabling them to gain skills, and have something beautiful to be proud of, in the end. This same blossoming of confidence brought them out, too. Shyness, self-doubt, reserve––would start to diminish.

Yes, yes, yes, yes!

By the way Lisa, I gotta say––your text reads as if you're sitting next to me. I notice however, that although you deal with lace charts, you don't have solutions for lace mistakes or mention a "life line." Is lace a particularly difficult technique to fix, in place?
Every book has space considerations. Check out my website for a lace mistake fix, with more laces fixes to come. I'd say to fix lace, you must know what you're looking at on the needle. You must be able to trace the pattern down from the stitches on the needle. If there's anything that makes it difficult to fix, it's because of shaping, which changes the balance of increases and decreases.

Is it easier then, to just unravel back to the correct row?
If you catch the problem in time, it's best to unknit. When it comes to lace knitting, count your stitches. Make sure that the yarn-overs are where they're supposed to be as well as the compensating decreases. If you get off count and don't catch it for inches and inches, then yes (sigh) it's time to unravel.

My personal bugaboo was Cables Crossed Incorrectly. This photograph produced an instant tightening in my neck, at the memory of a sweater I almost finished from a wonderful mohair; it is long disintegrated, in the Staten Island Landfill. There were two mis-crossed cables in the front. The solution I found, was a complicated process, marked by cutting and unraveling. It scared the daylights out of me. Your fix, is sooo easy. Where did it come from? For me, that alone was worth the book. I think everyone who buys Knit Fix, will find the one mistake that's worth the book.

You're very kind. The cable fix came about one afternoon when a lovely student of mine brought in the back of a sweater knit in fine-gauge yarn. This sweater had a cabled ribbing that moved diagonally, and a mistake in one of those cables. We sat there for an hour or so, and I dreamed up the fix for her. Neither of us is ever going to be able to bring about world peace, but that afternoon we managed to solve a problem and enjoy the process and create our own little zone of peace.

Knitting fixes are like that, aren't they? So gratifying. Finally, are you ready for the Knit Out, in New York next Sunday?
It sounds wonderful.

I definitely look forward to meeting you on Saturday, at Knitty City.
Ditto. Are you coming to the workshop?

Yes. It'll be cool to cover to it, and give knitters the reassurance that––help is on the way!
Lisa, thanks so much!