Monday, July 13, 2009

THE TANGLED GARDEN: or, how to knit-think your way through life

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Tangled Garden Necklace

Yesterday our garden underwent a massive weed where the sneaky undergrowth was banished from the land, at least for the next week or two.  Now I can see the blossoms defined against the loamy soil, the definition of every leaf and frond, and…all the holes. Holes! I find myself standing on the steps gazing into the greenery thinking like a knitter.

"I need more purple there," I say aloud to my husband and then my mind zooms to my stash where the perfect shade of bright violet nests amongst its fellows waiting to be called into active duty. So I do a double-take, reminding myself that I can't knit that hue into my garden! Is that fair? No way, but that's reality for you, always catching you up when your dream-schemes edge a little too far into the here and now.

Now that I think about it, I wish I could use knitting technigues with house-cleaning. Actually, I probably do only in reverse. My husband claims I free-range myself around the house, leaving little deposits of creative musings in yarn and inspiration wherever I go. The house is my studio, you see. Even here, I have no boundaries, no defined areas where knitting is not permitted, no lines, no boxes, no compartments.

You may wonder where this leaves my husband, John, to which I respond that he happily cohabits amid the skeins indoors while transforming the bowels of the house into a stone/wood-working zone. While I create upstairs, he tackles suitably manly projects downstairs and outside where he's creating outdoor rooms with fireplaces and a pizza oven. You might say he works with stone the way I do with fiber—softwear meets hardware.

This summer, he built a 'treehouse', a screened platform high amid the pines where we sit in the cedar swing he created and watch the river flow beneath our feet. I'll post pictures next.

But before I go, I offer you with photos of my recent garden and river-inspired necklaces. The first, the Tangled Garden, is in homage to the shady undergrowth deep within my hosta zone where shades of forest jasper mix with brass and that slightly irridescent raku coloring. And, below, the Dragon's Eye, fashioned from Murano glass, brass, amber and agate. Both necklaces feature a hand-dyed silk ribbon.

The Dragon's Eye