Wednesday, May 9, 2012

beach-leaf lace

I feel like one of Picasso's deconstructed women. Not completely, but partially  - meaning some parts aren't where they're supposed to be and other parts have lost their symmetry. This seems to be an ongoing condition that started a few days ago when I learned about the terminal illness of someone dear to me since his birth. We haven't seen each other in many years, but that doesn't negate love. I noticed other symmetries this morning as I sat on the windless deck with my coffee and thought about him.
a meditation at 840 yards
Residual energy from the giant full moon still keeps me awake at night and discombobulates the days. I haul myself to the coffee shop to work undisturbed in a neutral place, but discover that my powers of concentration aren't accessible and I might as well deep-six the To Do list and knit. I come home to mindfully and quietly wind the skein of Madelinetosh Prairie.
Once wound, I start the Crashing Waves Lace Shawlette from Grace Akhrem. It's almost ready for the lace patterning and I hope I'm up to it. It doesn't seem difficult, but the pattern isn't charted, it's written out in densely packed words. The color, Thyme, is similar to other yarns I've chosen and especially (almost exactly) the same color as the feather-light cashmere shawl I bought in Bellagio on Lake Como years ago (still my all time favorite accessory (and place). I tend to get color-jammed and know I'm not alone in this. One knitting friend finds herself always buying blues and purples (yarn, jewelry, clothes), another is into all sorts of reds, lime green is one writer/knitter's downfall (sweaters, yarn, bags, notebook covers, pens).
Meanwhile, I have temporarily shrugged off guilt and erased the word procrastination from my vocabulary as I get into this project, and remember a story I heard about a woman of a certain age who had experienced a great loss in her life, packed up some things, drove to a rented cottage on a windy beach, stayed for a year and knitted. I'm not going anywhere at this time (especially not for a year), but the west wind brings restless energy, blows the clouds around in a blue universe and makes it hard to sit still without tools in my hands to create other realities.
Note: the title Beach-Leaf Lace comes from Mary Thomas's Book of Knitting Patterns (1943). She writes: this fabric has no background

About lace designs in general, Thomas said:
Each unit is independent, but complementary to the other...equality of each must be a consideration in order to keep [the lace] under control