Craft Hope… On US shelves now!




When I started craftivism.com so many years ago, I had no idea what I wanted it to be. In my wildest initial dreams, I would have loved for it to have been Craft Hope, that Jade Sims has so lovingly and amazingly created. A site that is a catalyst for mass action, but sometimes what we hope isn’t a) what we’re good at, b) what we’re meant to do, and c) where we’re needed.

Yesterday I received my copy of the new book, Craft Hope, on my doorstep, and it is so incredibly lovely and just, well, perfect! I am so honored to have been included as a designer in this book, along with some amazingly and incredibly talented people.** I whipped up some easy peasy fingerless gloves to donate for people who might want to do some mindless knitting for the greater good and just have a small bit of time and/or a small bit of wool.



Congratulations, Jade, on such a lovely book and for all the thousands of people you’ve aided along the way with donations from your Craft Hope projects! And thanks for filling the void that I thought I initially needed to fill, doing a mightier job than I ever could of done because it’s where you need to be.

Even though they don’t know who to thank, there are thousands of people out there with items obtained from Craft Hope projects (like the recent project collecting hand towels for the Institute of Marine Mammal Studies to help clean animals effected by the oil spill, over 65,000 items!) whose days you’re making brighter.


More info:
*Craft Hope over on Facebook
*Interview about the book with Jade over at Lark Crafts
*All month this month over at Craft Hope: Month of Hope! Giveaways! Links! More about my fellow designers!
*BOOK GIVEAWAY! I’ll have an extra copy of the book to give away, and am not sure what I’m going to do with it yet, as I’ve been working on other things than the blog the past few months… Give it away here? Donate it?



**Who are the other designers? They’re Stefani Austin, Ellie Beck, Amanda Carestio, Christina Carleton, Lisa Cox, Maya Donenfeld, Malka Dubrawsky, Molly Dunham, Celine Dupuy, Cathie Filian, Wendi Gratz, Jenny B. Harris, Vickie Howell, Rebecca Ittner, Rebeka Lambert, Kathy Mack, Kaari Meng, Manda McGrory, Jhoanna Monte, Aimee Ray, Eren Hays San Pedro, Amanda Blake Soule, Blair Stocker, Amanda Swan, Beth Sweet, Susan Wasinger, Dana Willard, Rebekah Williams and Geninne D. Zlatis!

As for what these designers made? That’s for you to discover in the book for yourself!

War and Knitting. In Verse.

Many of you who know about knitting for soldiers overseas during the World Wars have seen the poster below. Cool, but nothing new. But about a poem about knitting for war? The poem below is by “The People’s Poet” Edgar Guest, published in 1918.

To a Lady Knitting
Little woman, hourly sitting,
Something for a soldier knitting,
What in fancy can you see?
Many pictured come to me
Through the stitch that now you’re making:
I behold a bullet breaking;
I can see some soldier lying
In that garment slowly dying,
And that very bit of thread
In your fingers, turns to red.
Gray to-day; perhaps to-morrow
Crimsoned by the blood of sorrow.

It may be some hero daring
Shall that very thing be wearing
When he ventures forth to give
Life that other men may live.
He may braver wield the saber
As a tribute to your labor
And for that, which you have knitted,
Better for his task be fitted.
When the thread has left your finger,
Something of yourself my linger,
Something of your lovely beauty
May sustain him in his duty.

Some one’s boy that was a baby
Soon shall wear it, and it may be
He will write and tell his mother
Of the kindness of another,
And her spirit shall caress you,
And her prayers at night shall bless you.
You may never know its story,
Cannot know the grief or glory
That are destined now and hover
Over him your wool shall cover,
Nor what spirit shall invade it
Once your gentle hands have made it.

Little woman, hourly sitting,
Something for a soldier knitting,
‘Tis no common garb you’re making,
These, no common pains you’re taking.
Something lovely, holy, lingers
O’er the needles in your fingers
And with every stitch you’re weaving
Something of yourself you’re leaving.
From your gentle hands and tender
There may come a nation’s splendor,
And from this, your simple duty,
Life may win a fairer beauty.


Also, check out this awesome article about green knitting!

Why “60 Yard Pass” Lives on my Desktop

A long time ago, my always intrepid friend Muffy Bolding wrote her favorite poem was “60 Yard Pass,” by Charles Bukowski. Bukowski not being one of my favorite poets, I was at the time, unfamiliar with his work.

Ever since then, “60 Yard Pass,” has been on a desktop sticky just within a second’s reach. Today I came across it after not reading it for awhile… Given the new year, found it especially poignant. Perhaps this poem is just the medicine you need today, too.

It reminded me of the astounding feats, adventures, failures, confusion, joy we all face. How we all carry them stoically and hold them inside. How we all house so many stories within us. How we walk around town as a container of our defeats and triumphs, silently hoping someone would ask us to share.

60 yard pass
by Charles Bukowski

most people don’t do very well and I get discouraged with
their existence, it’s such a waste:
all those bodies, all those lives
malfunctioning: lousy quarterbacks, bad waitresses,
in-competent carwash boys and presidents,
cowardly goal-keepers inept garage mechanics
bumbling tax accountants
and so forth

yet

now and then

I see a single performer doing something with a
natural excellence

it can be
a waitress in some cheap cafe or a 3rd string
quarterback
coming off the bench with 24 seconds on the clock
and completing that winning
60 yard pass

which lets me believe that
the possibility of the miracle is here with us
almost every day

and I’m glad that now and then
some 3rd string quarterback
shows me the truth of that belief
whether it be in science, art, philosophy,
medicine, politics, and/or etc.

else I’d shoot all the lights out of
this fucking city
right now

Projects and Poems.

Okay, just one poem. A poem that was mentioned an another project, The Creative Life, which I started with Kim Werker, to explore, well, the creative life. It came via a recommended link* posted in a comment by Carol Browne. Carol’s comment was in response to my post about how the creative life, to me, means more than worrying about if others post more than me or comment more than me or what have you. Living a creative life means reminding yourself that life is meant to be lived and that if you don’t live it, how can you write about it? Quality will forever mean more to me than quantity, even though current technology begs to differ. Stopping to really see the sunset is always more beautiful than constantly moving around to get the best shot. Thanks for reminding me of that, Carol.

The poem below is “Desiderata” written by Max Ehrmann in 1927.



Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.


*Clicking this link will take you to a very lovely photo of a very lovely tattoo someone had done of the first line of this poem. It’s copyrighted. So, you have to click on through… it’s worth it.

R.I.P., Witt Pratt

Knitter and textile artist Witt Pratt died on May 20 in Virginia. You can read his obituary here. His obituary was full of insight into how Mr. Pratt found knitting and how it allowed him to grow in unexpected ways, which I found delightful. In Mr. Pratt’s own words, from the article above:

Like so many things, if we take the time to notice, when you’ve got a ball of yarn, which to many of us represents nothing short of infinite possibility, the world just opens up before you,” he said. “I consider myself extremely fortunate to have found this for myself.”

My interest piqued by his thoughts mentioned in his obituary, I was highly interested in seeing if there were any other thoughts of his on knitting online. I instantly looked and came up with a lovely interview he did with the White Crane Journal a few years ago, which you can read here. I was especially touched by this:

There was a saying in a children’s knitting book that encouraged these young knitters to remember that it’s only hard until it’s easy. I’ve remembered that many times because as grownups, particularly, its not every day that we ask our hands to do something different. We type, or we write or we trim hedges. Or whatever. So, there can be something about it when you’re first learning that can bring you screaming back to early childhood, probably prelingual memories that we have about accomplishment, or about frustration, or about effort involved in learning how to do something new. We may revisit them as adults learning how to knit.

So lovely, yet so sad that Witt Pratt wasn’t able to show more people the wonders of knitting and died so young.