modernity + sociology.

This could also be called “all things nerdy.”

‘but you’ve got too much to wear on your sleeves…’

| Betsy

For the past week, I’ve been wandering around London listening to ‘A Year of Seconds’ by The Standard. When I get back to my laptop, it’s nothing but “Kissing the Lipless” by The Shins. I’ve also been openly redeclaring my love for satsumas and sesame snaps, so things aren’t totally bleak.

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All the hustle and bustle of London has me thinking in patterns as well as words. It seems like every time I sit down I’m talking with someone about contemporary crafts, so walking around the city is somewhat of a wordless reprieve. I turn my somewhat decrepit tape-playing walkman up loud and watch the drama of the city unfold around me as my feet stepstepstep one foot in front of the other without any forethought.

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Passing women in saris, men in coveralls and children in school uniforms, I find my mind racing with all the color combinations and textures, curious about the origin of all the cloth displayed before me. Was any of it handknitted? Produced in a sweatshop? Inherited from a family member? When I was younger, my mother used to always warn me to be careful of what I was wearing as it projected a persona. As an adult, my outfits generally consist of something donned in a hurry as I’m perpetually late and in a rush. On grey days I’m most often to be wearing color in a futile attempt to beat the drabness into submission. Although when it’s nice out, I don’t mind the way hot pink gleams in the sun.

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But I’d like to think that I’m not the only one that notices the kaleidoscope of the city as I walk from place to place in outfits that may or may not add or subtract to the explosions of color I see rush around me. Spying patterns in clothing, buildings and rubbish while my walkman keeps me to a steady beat with my mouth shut and my eyes open. Once I’m back at home again, I take out my wool and knitting needles and daydream* about what I will make next after taking in all the sights and secrets that the city continually offers up.

*Lately my daydreams have been about what I’m going to create for knitpro Needlecraft Art Show, whose deadline has been changed to June 1st! Oh, the possibilities!

yarn beats metal?

| Betsy

Lately I have been consumed by the conjunction of modernity and crafts, especially knitting. About how historically it was used to clothe and comfort, to protect against the elements. Now that we’ve moved comfortably (or kicking and screaming, depending) into the modern age, these items can be purchased. Whenever I wear handmade items around the city I feel like I am navigating the chaos somewhat strenghtened and soothed.

In some ways, craft seems like a perfect compliment to the urban. Providing a respite of comfort in a busy, metal, sometimes alien (and alienating) place.

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We wrap knitted items around loved ones to keep them warm. Lately I’ve been toying with the notion that if we wrap knitting around technology and the urban would we give them warmth and comfort?

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my $.02…

| Betsy

I’m not entirely sold on the banner above, but for the time being, it’ll do.

At the moment, I’m doing a temping gig to pay the bills while I try and figure out what to do (and where to go) next. My temp job is on a university campus, in a building on the far side away from the lush green quads and the ramshackle frat houses. I sit in a cubicle all day long, staring at grey walls, grey floors, grey cabinets. On my lunch hour, I walk.

Today I walked through parking lot after parking lot with my headphones cranked up loud. The sun was shining overhead, without a cloud in the sky. And I was struck by the absurdity of this sea of metal and concrete around me. This vast landscape that was lying in front of me completely devoid of people, but entirely populated by steel.

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There was a lot of grey concrete, yes, but there was also a rainbow of reds and blues and greens, dotted every so often with white, black, silver and champagne. And it was beautiful. Like blobs of paint on a palette or scraps of fabric on a seamstresses table. But it was so quiet, despite the fact that I had my headphones on to block out the silence. There were no people, no sounds of laughter, no birds, no bits of trash swirling in the corner.

All day I sit in that cubicle and stare at an ocean of grey, while myriad colors are left stagnant and stranded just a few feet away thanks to this modern era of commodity and consumption. And more more more.

I don’t think that people are crafting to get away from technology, but quite the opposite, I think they are crafting in order to better embrace it. This creation allows us to make sense of what is going on in a cold steel world by letting us remember that there is more beauty in a purled stitch than in a pixel. By letting the two interconnect and coexist, we don’t lose sight of either the absurd or the beautiful.

enough.

| Betsy

Today’s officially the worst day of the year. Which got me thinking…

I have a lot of shoes. Especially black ones. Sometimes I look at the floor of my closet and am abhorred at the number of black shoes I own. Some are for work, some are for play, some are for parties and others are just plain lovely.

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I also own entirely too much yarn. It’s spilling out of baskets and peeking out of drawers all over my house, like little woodland creatures from a children’s storybook. A tiny bit of pink fluff here, a wisp of bright green there. Of course, I haven’t knitted anything for myself since a still unfinished sweater from 2003. I currently have a list as long as my size 19 needle of knitting projects I need to tackle, bits and bobs for family, friends and charities.

When I first moved into the house I decided to nail some fabric and yarn to the wall. I fear I enjoyed the process entirely too much, and that if I live here very long my house will become covered in 3D textile projects and I will finally turn into that crazy lady I always feared. That crazy lady with all the yarn and shoes, aimlessly wielding a hammer.

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With all this accumulation, however, comes conflict. How can I write about issues stemming from ethical living and have so much, well, crap? It doesn’t seem to gel, really, here I am writing about trying to live your life openly and ethically, writing it atop a mountain range of yarn. But I’ve come to think that maybe it’s this internal conflict that makes us human. It allows us to become fully cognizant as to why we are making the choices we are making.

And in becoming aware of our choices, it’s hard to not to feel like we are not enough, that we never do enough, care enough, give enough. Even though this is universal, especially as women, we never feel enough.

I am tired of not feeling good enough because I can’t fully identify as a vegetarian or vegan because fish keeps my serotonin levels up and I work with wool. (Although it is my hope to work one day with wool that is ethically produced.) I feel conflicted when I wear my leather belt that I abhor because it is leather, but adore because it was a gift from my father. I feel like a bad feminist as I try and cover my fledgling wrinkles with foundation. I feel like my convictions aren’t strong enough when I eat dairy at my grandmother’s house because I know how hard it is for her to cook for me seeing that I think she thinks that chicken is not meat. I feel like I’m not punk rock enough because I really like Lionel Richie. (The man is a genius, I tell you!)

I have all these shoes and all this yarn and yet I walk a lot in lieu of driving and make things for others instead of myself. But I still feel like I’m not enough because 100% of my choices aren’t ethical. I sometimes shop at Target, all the toilet paper I buy isn’t recycled, every now and then I’ve been known to squash really terrifying looking spiders when they refuse to be captured and escorted outside. Even though I do a lot by some standards, for my own it will never seem like it’s enough.

Being aware all the time hurts my brain, but not as much as not feeling enough. I feel like my spirit was trampled for years underneath this weight and that it’s freed itself only to get frustrated by seeing how much everyone is struggling, too. At the moment, this is particularly resonant because I see all these glorious things that people have made around me, and I wonder, “why didn’t I think of that?” and “why don’t I have time to make that?” And immediately, I find myself back in the same vicious cycle telling myself I’m not this or that or whatever.

Which is why this time of year turns me into a hermit. I stay indoors and drink tea, watch bad television and make things for people. I read and absorb and try to refuel myself for the new year after the excesses of the last one. Come February, I begin to crawl out from underneath my heap of yarn ready to fight the good fight, cup of coffee in hand, and a pair of black shoes on my feet.

So today, just a little bit of comfort on the Official Worst Day of the Year.

May you always feel enough.

I like the small things.

| Betsy

My favorite sight today was the man I passed during the inauguration speech with the handheld battery-operated radio. He was walking down the street with the radio tucked under his arm like a book, listening to the President take an oath to office.

There was a lot of anger and frustration expressed at today’s events. There were people on the internet vehemently posting about Not One Damn Dime Day as well other pieces denoting its uselessness. In particular, I found this to be the most insightful take on the ‘protest,’ which I first thought to be a good idea. Then I started to realise just whose businesses it would really be hurting.

While I agree that it’s okay to get angry, I just don’t have that kind of energy anymore. I’d rather make things and send them to people who really need them because it’s cold out and they’re homeless or they’re sick and need a little cheer. It may not be showing my political dissent, but it does show that I am using energy formerly put forth in anger in more positive ways. And there are myriad different ‘positive ways’ to choose from, this is just what I’ve chosen.

I still believe that by crafting in general, you are demonstrating against the status quo and consumer culture. By choosing what to make when and constructing things with your own hands you are being political.

With that in mind, two links for today both sent to me by my always thoughtful friend Karen:

made with love by a liberal: because the world is bigger than you alone.

buy blue: because even the little choices add up.

Lately it’s the small things that have provided me the most solace and beauty and wonder. It’s funny how often we forget the small things, which are usually the most important.

In case you missed the guy with the handheld radio, you can read the transcript of Dubya’s speech here.