how steven got his groove back
July 14, 2011
last night,
i cast on a project.
i knew the answer to my funk lay in a shawl,
but hours on ravelry left me feeling rather hopeless.
nothing inspired me.
then, for whatever reason,
i gave this shawl a second glance,
and bitches, i have found my mojo!
yarn – madelinetosh pashmina in the glazed pecan colorway.
pattern – baltic blossoms lace shawl.
let me tell you,
it feels good to be back!
it’s like that feeling when a cold breaks,
and you can finally take a deep breath again.
i was creatively congested!
then this morning,
i woke up to the following e-mail:
Dear Steven:
Thanks so much for your inspiring blog post. Because of you, we have received over $400 dollars in donations! Thank you for getting yourself tested, and thank you for your amazing support of Pittsburgh AIDS Task Force!
Emma McAfee
Development Associate
Pittsburgh AIDS Task Force
5913 Penn Avenue
Pittsburgh, PA 15206
that was a great way to begin my day.
thank you to everyone who contributed,
not only to pittsburgh aids task force,
but to their local testing centers.
that $400 will pay for 10 tests.
your generosity makes me feel like maybe the effort i put into this blog isn’t a fruitless endeavor, that maybe people are listening.
so thank you.
and congratulations to faye.
the random number generator selected you,
and my skein of handspun is yours.
you better knit with it!
i actually cast on a second shawl.
i’m not sure if i’m allowed to show you it,
but better to ask forgiveness than permission, right?
it’s the beginning of a test knit from westknits book three
that’s all i’ll say.
the cashmere mafia’s listening.
let’s talk about socks, baby.
July 10, 2011
for the past few days,
i’ve been having nightmares.
mostly i don’t remember them, but
in any case,
my lack of sleep means i’m in my “office” early in the morning.
however,
this will be day four
so if there’s a lack of coherence in this post
or an excess of grammatical errors (outside my usual),
you will forgive me.
first, a big merci to all the people who commented on my last post and to all those knitters who helped spread the word on twitter. this is my first go at fundraising, so i’m a little out of my element.
a lot of people made donations, and while it’s a modest sum, i’m inching toward a secret number in head. remember, all you have to do for a chance to win that skein of my handspun is leave a comment on my last post. but i hope you’ll consider making a donation to the pittsburgh aids task force. can you really look at yourself and say you can’t afford to donate just one dollar?
just saying.
(how’s that for catholic guilt?!)
if you’ve made a donation,
but haven’t yet told me how much,
please let me know so i can add it to the grand total.
now on to the meat of this post.
as you may or may not know,
i’m going to the summit at the end of the month.
the irony of my going to a knitting conference about nothing but socks?
i’m not really into knitting socks.
i’ve done it sure,
and i love wearing the socks my friends knit for me.
(i haven’t forgotten you sarah j.r. i will blog your socks!)
i’m just not that into the knitting of them.
but it’s not like i can show up to the summit without a sock on the needles. (though i did consider bringing jenn as my personal sock knitter attaché). the shame would be too great.
so i opened one of my stash,
pulled out a particularly special skein of sock yarn,
and, after several cast ons, i have a little sock action going.
the yarn is silkie socks that rock that i dyed myself at the silk retreat. i’m using stephanie pearl-mcphee’s sock recipe for a good, plain sock from her book knitting rules. i’m even using dpns. it’s a kind of prayerful combination that seems appropriately respectful for the summit.
of course i kidded myself about my gauge when i swatched,
casting on far too few stitches and must either
a. continue on with the understanding that
these socks will be for someone that is not me, or
b. rip.
i bet you can guess which choice i’m going to make.
lucky
July 7, 2011
around the beginning of each month,
i go and get an hiv test.
i’m a gay dude in his 20’s.
it’s only practical.
and even though i should be used to it by now,
it’s a surreal experience every time.
as i sit in the little testing room,
making small talk with the lovely tester,
all i can think about is how very lucky i am.
not just because, so far, i always test nonreactive,
but because there exists a place where i can literally walk in off the street, say i want to get tested, and in thirty minutes or less, i walk out with an answer.
anonymously.
free of charge.
i grew up in the era when aids decimated the gay population in america, but i was really too young to be aware of what that would mean for me now.
it destroyed a way of life,
a connection to history,
the chance for the children of today know their elders.
all i have are ghosts stories, and the few “lucky” ones who survived.
it changed everything,
and i find myself mourning
as i imagine someone mourns a parent they never knew.
i get really choked up about it sometimes.
and during the twenty minutes i sit there
waiting to see if there’s one line or two,
i never think about my own results.
i only wonder
why the waiting room isn’t full?
why isn’t there a line out the door?
are people really that scared to know?
or are they so naive as to think they couldn’t test positive?
i think about the millions, millions who had to die
so that i can sit here,
pay nothing,
and know.
it’s not like hiv and aids have gone away.
but i don’t hear people talk about it anymore.
i don’t get it.
there’s a lot of things i don’t understand;
i admit to being slightly ignorant about hiv myself.
but what i do know is,
i’m a lucky guy.
not because i’m negative,
but because i know.
i’m just one small voice among the millions of bloggers.
i don’t command much attention.
i definitely don’t have much money.
still. i’d still like to do something.
right now all i can do is give away this skein of handspun.
fiber: 2oz spinning bunny pixie batt = merino, black and/or blue face leicester, tencel, angelina, angora, silk, and bamboo.
if i did my math right,
there’re 315yds of 2ply lace weight.
hand spun by me.
i just ask that you consider making a donation to the pittsburgh aids task force who provide so much more than just free rapid testing. if you don’t have much money, i’d ask that you considering going and getting tested.
either way,
you only need to leave a comment to enter.
but if you do make a donation, i’d love to know.
it’d be pretty cool if we raised a couple hundred bucks.
i’ll pick a winner in a week.
an open letter to elizabeth zimmerman
June 29, 2011
dear elizabeth,
while generally i operate in the realm of the visible, i admit to being a bit superstitious. i was raised catholic after all. and while i recognize that you were a mere mortal when you walked this earth, your impact on the knitting world was so great that many believe your influence still holds sway from beyond the grave.
when i was little, i would pray to the appropriate saint for help with those problems that were to small to bug god directly. he or she could be counted on to answer my prayer and help me out or, if need be, file the appropriate paperwork with the big man himself. (i cannot tell you how many times st. anthony saved my ass. i’m always losing shit) but as far as i know, there’s no patron saint of knitting, and even if there were, those cats and i aren’t exactly on speaking terms these days.
so i’m coming to you for help. i’ve been utterly uninspired lately, basically since i left the hospital. i feel like a beginner again, constantly making little mistakes and not having the fortitude to cope with them. it’s left me pretty bummed and has meant i’ve had a bunch of false starts.
recently, though, i found a project that actually made me pretty happy. once again i found myself working row after row late into the night with that obsessive determination that makes my whole upper body ache and leaves that special red line on my index finger. isn’t it lovely?
finally, i had a project that reignited my passion for knitting and gave me hope that i hadn’t lost whatever talent i may have had.
or so i thought.
apparently, the joy of feeling like a knitter again eradicated my ability to access basic knowledge of how knitting works. triangular shawls are kinda my thing. i’ve knit quite a few of them. they could be the only knitted objects besides a hat where i totally understand its construction. yes, this shawl is bottom up, and i’m more into center-out, but the same principles apply. yet there i sat, knitting thousands of stitches, only ever stopping to think,
“how odd it is that there are no center decreases.” or
“i wonder when the center decreases will start. maybe in chart two.” or
“hmm, that picture looks kinda different from my shawl. must be the yarn.”
nope. not the yarn. i just completely read the chart wrong and must now rip out about a week’s worth of knitting.
of course, i could point out the flaws in the chart and its instructions that led to this error, but really i have enough experience to know better. i should have caught this one.
the enormity of this particular gaff left me paralyzed these past few days. i didn’t know how to blog about it. i couldn’t face it. i’m not sad or anything, really. it’s almost hilarious how bad i seem to be at this.
but i wanna be good again.
now, i must admit that i haven’t read any of your books, nor have i knitted any of your patterns. i live a somewhat unwholesome lifestyle filled with lustful thoughts and the f-word falling from lips about as often as “the”. you’ve no reason to help me. i doubt we have anything in common. i’m an english knitter for christ’s sake!
but here’s the thing. i’ve got nowhere else to turn. i literally think my only option is to address the spirit of a dead woman who, if she ever met me, would probably frown. please, liz. just tell me what i should cast on. tell me what i need to do get back on track. i’ll burn incense, chant, dance naked under the full moon, whatever. tell me who to blow and i’m there!
because i don’t want to lose knitting. i love it.
and crochet just ain’t gonna cut it for me.
sincerely yours,
steven
p.s. i’d appreciate it if you’d keep this particular failure between you and me. wouldn’t want it getting out that i’m not the perfect knitter i pretend to be.
a mari usque ad mare
June 17, 2011
this is a land far to the north
alive on the lips of children’s playgrounds where
the beer flows like rivers, folks chase black rubber on ice,
and all the men are sexy, hairy, lumberjack-looking dudes.
supposedly,
if they speak,
we can understand them.
but it’s a queer sounding english,
just different enough to make you tilt your head like a confused puppy.
the name of this land is spoken in hushed whispers,
a fairy tale place, an alternate universe,
an unsolved x-file.
canada.
somehow,
and i’m not sure how,
my clockwork crossed the border.
perhaps it was folded amongst other clothes,
or wrapped around native shoulders and walked across.
maybe someone sunk it down into epic shampoo bottle
or was smuggled over in that certain hidey hole.
like i said,
i don’t know the deets.
i probably don’t wanna know.
what i do know
is that somehow,
it made it across the border safely,
and landed in the hands of erica.
look how green canada is!
it must truly be a magical place,
a mari usque ad mare.
(i hear their chinese food is pretty good, too)
i did something reckless today
June 16, 2011
with my hospital bills all paid (i hope),
and electronic ink still drying on my lansing lease,
i should be squeezing my pennies like a scotsman.
so the first thing i do,
when assessing my funds?
i decide to make a purchase.
it was eight and four months ago,
when i learned to treadle steady,
and witnessed the power of twist.
i was hooked.
it was magic
worked by my fingers.
there was no going back.
it changed me.
a year is a long time to want something
wanting a thing for that long means
i make it my business to have it.
you can’t always get what you want, they say,
no matter how deep the desire.
true.
but this?
this wheel?
this i can make mine.
and i will have it.
layaway bitches!
**this post is dedicated to the über cool beth smith of the spinning loft. you should give her money for things. i did.
signs
June 14, 2011
so i’m apartment hunting in lansing today,
and what should i spot while withdrawing some parking money?
alice starmore’s “aran knitting”.
personally i take it as a good sign.
dear readers,
June 13, 2011
every day, i think to myself, “self” i think,
“i hope the people who read this blog are patient
because you’ve been a total slacker lately. seriously.”
of course, if you’re anything like me, you’re probably not.
more likely, i’ve been deleted from your bookmarks,
you’ve unsubscribed from the rss feed,
and forgotten all about me.
you’re probably not even reading this right now.
but for those who are,
all i can say is stay tuned,
for adventures and fun are on the way.
i promise.
(i hope)
until then, i kinda have a bunch of boring stuff to get through.
and it’s been a long time since i was like,
“that is blog worthy.”
i did find an hour or so last week to spin a little,
and work my way through some of a lovely batt i have.
i’ve spun about half the batt,
and i can’t decide if i’ll ply this sucker,
or have one big skein of a lace weight single.
(any advice from the spinners?)
while my life’s not very interesting at all right now,
at least it’s not totally lacking in fiber.
my surgeon would be happy to hear that.
stay with me bitches.
just a little longer.
some sheepy goodness
June 9, 2011
memorial day at camp valley view
June 2, 2011
i try to keep entries that don’t involve knitting to minimum
since it’s kind of the point of my blog.
but because brooke insists,
“the holiday weekend is over.. we want the scoop on the “mild debauchery” – dish dude, dish.. we want the nitty gritty of your weekend.. don’t hold back..”
i’ll tell you about my weekend at camp valley view.
just to keep things legal,
here’s some knitting.
i’m testing knitting this little ditty for my friend andrea.
when it grows up, it will be a kimono-style sweater.
when it has a name, and is available to the world,
i’ll give you more details.
but back to my weekend.
i’m afraid brooke is going to be disappointed.
when you’re traveling with four old married ladies
there’s only so much debauchery that can happen.
let’s not forget i did say mild.
i mean, there was everything you’d expect of five dudes at a rustic cabin in rural pennsylvania:
walking in the nature,
artistic expression of the inner self,
cigar/ettes and beer and campfires,
the grilling of meats,
skipping stones,
lounging about,
a best friend,
buying of junk,
and excessive blurry photography.
there was also stuff the camera didn’t capture like nude sunbathing (i was not present for that), nighttime nebbing in trailer parks, tons of wildlife (beavers, deer, an opossum, a toads, a baby rabbit, rednecks, loons, and many many porcupines), and peeing anywhere that wasn’t inside.
if that’s not enough, i did make a bottle of whiskey disappear.
that’s pretty debaucherous.
really, though, trips like this
are about getting away from our lives,
no matter how good or bad we think they are,
and just being a less complicated version of yourself.
at least that’s how it was for me.
i got some quality thinking time in,
and left some of my highly traumatic couple months back behind with the flies.
hope your memorial day weekend was a good as mine,
but somehow,
i doubt it.
Bitches Get Stitches 