i have to say
it was nice to be a part of the knitternet™ golden age.
coming back only underscores how that time is ovah!
all these blogs i loved are just gone,
one is now a potential malware purveyor,
or at least that’s what my browser told me.

do people still write about knitting?
do people still knit?

ch ch ch changes

May 10, 2018

life has changed a lot since i first got into knitting.
i’m living with a guy i’m kinda into (sh!).
i moved to a new state (ma).
i got a phd (blah blah).

and yet,
i find myself particularly adrift at the moment;
i have zero idea where my life is going.
so of course,
rather than figure that out
why not start knitting again?
and then write about it on a blog no one reads!
cuz that’s productive.

i dug this bad boy out of the depths of the big plastic wip container:
IMG_3490 pattern: permafrost yarn: blue moon bfl sport in “in the navy”

things i’ve found while knitting this bad boy:
i can still read lace (thank god, or i’d be fucked).
i have much less confidence and am therefore slower.

but that moment
you know the one
when you get in the groove
and everything seems to fall away
(a famous yet secretly shitty knitter said something
about how knitting changes brainwaves à la meditation)
well today,
i had the moment
and it felt pretty fucking good.

so maybe i’ll keep knitting this thing.
and maybe the person i started knitting it for
waaaaaaaaaay back in 2013
will actually get it!

on philando castile

June 22, 2017

as a queer person in this world,
there are so many
and places
where i don’t feel

in those times and
in those places, i know that,
if i keep my mouth closed
if pay attention to my walk
if don’t hold my boyfriend’s hand
i’ll likely get from a to b

most of the time.

when i walk police, i’m terrified.

i’m terrified.

because i know the history of the police and queer people.
i know what they do to us if given the chance.


i legitimately wonder with disturbing regularity:
if i need help
can i call them?
should i call them?
will they help me?
or will they be worse than the men chasing me?

flip a coin.

the reality is
when i walk past police (terrified, always)
my experience is

they look right through me; i’m not even there.

because they don’t see me as a threat, they don’t even see me.
because a big white dude
walking down the street
is almost never a problem in their eyes,
though we know the reality of that
is quite different.

with rare exceptions,
an african american can’t hide their blackness.
and all evidence seems to suggest that
all police can see when they see a black person
is a potential threat.

and, apparently, we keep telling them
that fear is justified.
fire away.
you’re right to be afraid.
you’re allowed to defend yourself against fear
using your gun
on anyone
with impunity.

if they’re black.

i don’t know what we can do
as a nation
(as a world, really) to
fight end racism
fight end white supremacy
to stop seeing danger in black and brown skin.
i have no solutions and
if change it possible
(if! such hopelessness that proposition creates in me)
it will take many many more generations.

which breaks my heart.

because what that means is, now,
black people won’t know safety in america.
black bodies
will continue
to pile up
while my white neighbors see nothing
do nothing

over and over
as my heart is destroyed
surrounded by the injustice
of being more
than you.

oh hey

June 18, 2017

it would seem 
that i’m knitting again.
fancy that. 
(thanks for the yarn, stacie!)

i used to be catholic

October 17, 2016

or so i tell myself.
it’s one of those things that sticks
like honey, even after you’ve sucked it
off your fingers. it’s still

i’m catholic in that
i know when someone misquotes the bible
(or uses the wrong bible to quote)
or doesn’t know when something’s
a metaphor.

i’m catholic in that
i won’t go to mass anymore
not because i don’t believe (which i don’t)
but because they changed
the words.

“and also with your spirit”
is such bullshit.

i digress.

as i get older,
catholicism (what a horrid-sounding word)
reemerges, like a memory
you’ve forgotten until
you smell it.

today, it was forgiveness.
to forgive, i was taught, is not
for the other person;
it’s for

that’s a lesson that never made any fucking sense,
one to which i certainly never subscribed instead
simply snipping from view
assholes and liars and

“all people are generally good”
is such bullshit.


some deacon just got his wings, i guess,
(though, only metaphorically, of course)
cuz it’s kind of true what they said.
about forgiveness, anyway. and i feel


January 21, 2016

the great thing about friends
is they give you permission
to breathe.

or in this, particular case
an opportunity,
an excuse.

so many “reasons”
(excuses, really)
kept me from knitting.

but then, a perfect storm:
rhinebeck and

(there’s another ingredient, a catalyst,
but i can’t write about
can i?)

i made a hat.IMG_1668IMG_1667and then another.
and another.

(apparently, there’s a shawl happening, too.)

and somehow, suddenly,
i’m a knitter again.
thanks, anna.

and my kingdom as great.

You have no power over me.

R.I.P., Goblin King

pre-dawn london

December 14, 2015

“the city,” specifically.
walking against the flow
of business suits, past
impossibly skinny jeans on
the beer delivery model,
listening to “jumpers” as i pass
buildings older than my country
in search of breakfast where at
i discover
i need a reservation,
(a booking, here).

as i sit in hawksmoor
looking at five, other diners
i can’t help but wonder
how i came to live a life
so exactly

“i’m sorry, sir
we’re out of the lobster benedict.”

there it is.

a f.o.

November 17, 2015

look at me!
i have a f.o. to share!
(project details here)

this shit was completed ages ago;
i made it for the singular sonya phillip.
though i intended to gift it at rhinbeck 2014,
circumstances conspired against me.

but i got it to her!
and she like it!
and she kindly sent a very flattering pic of it!
and i feel like exclaiming about it all over the place!
and this is really all just a way to avoid writing my dissertation!

rhinebeck 2015: shamé

October 20, 2015

how to talk about rhinebeck.
how to talk about rhinebeck
when you haven’t talked
about knitting
in ages.

start simple.
DPP_3067the loot.

this was, perhaps,
the most restrained i’ve been
at a fiber festival, mostly just
replenishing those things i always do.

to begin,DPP_3083my rhinebeck knitting.

i haven’t been knitting at all. at. all.
so i started simple with a garter stitch scarf knit lengthwise
using the fiber optic paint box gradient in swamp muck
purchased at rhinebeck in 2013.

i’m definitely not as deft as i once was;
i dropped a lot of stitches,
my gauge is inconsistent,
and i had to take breaks for achey hands,
but boy did it feel great to knit again.
gotta love that shift in brain waves
brought on by a repetitive action.

so since i was using this paintbox,
i gave myself permission to replace it.
(i couldn’t get a good shot on its own, but you see it in the first pic.
the colorway is steampunk in the kashmir base)

then i went to my towel lady, karen tenney,
of hawk meadow mountain handwoven textiles.
DPP_3082(look how artistic that macro shot is)

my mom’s been kinda awesome this year in the face of pretty intense stress. so when i saw these two towels that match the one i got her last time, i knew what i was buying from karen this go ’round.
(she doesn’t have a website, apparently,
but if you want more info you can email her here)

then i got my stock of handmade soap from simpler thyme.DPP_3078
a couple lavender, a tea tree, and sandalwood will last me a while.

i also stopped by gene matras’ booth,
DPP_3084stocking up on some of his notecards to sustain my semi-secret paper addiction. (*sigh* another artsy macro shot showing only the ass of the sleepy pig notecard. i guess i’m out of practice with photography as well.
at least you get an idea of the level of detail in his work)

someday, i’m going to get one of his originals.
and i better do it quick; he’s no spring chicken.

this next item i didn’t even have to purchase.
on the anniversary of the annual chili pepper challenge andrea and i inaugurated five years ago at which we (and now most of our housemates) sample the hottest sauce at the wild coyote booth,
old man chili himself gave us each
a free bottle of hot sauce.
DPP_3081he gave me a bottle of buried alive, the sauce that gets its flavor and heat via not one not two but all three varietals of the ghost chili.
this shit does not. fuck. around.

and finally,
the favorite thing i got a rhinebeck:
DPP_3068 a selection of pieces gifted by sonya philip from her microscopy series. this gave me a lot of feels. a lot. i’ve admired sonya’s work since before i even knew who she was. and for her to just give me this work that she made… it meant a lot. i’ll treasure them and give them a place of honor in my tiny house.

well kids, that’s it for the loot.DPP_3074i’m still meditating on how to tackle my rhinebeck post proper.
it was…an incredible retreat from reality, so restorative.
it stirred up a lot of things in me, happy parts of me
that haven’t been a part of my life in a while now.
i’m feeling really lucky to have gone
and want to write it up right.

see you tomorrow?