What Do You Do With Your Swatches?
What Do You Do With Your Swatches?
I don’t have nearly as many swatches as does Sarah, nor are they as full of pattern and color. My swatches are often plain stockinette stitch, made to get to know an unfamiliar yarn or to establish a baseline knitting gauge. Others are explorations of texture, test driving a stitch pattern to find out if I enjoy both the doing of it and the finished result. My swatches are an essential part of my working process, not a tangible record of my knitting career.
I save my swatches for as long as I might work with that yarn. Swatches made for a specific project will live with the yarn for that project until the project is complete. A "getting to know you" swatch will stay with the remainder of the yarn until that yarn leaves my stash, either through incorporation into a project or through donation. Then I throw the swatch away.
I am the world's worst archivist. I don't keep a journal or a sketchbook. I don't save photos, cards, letters, or old calendars. And I don't hang on to my swatches. Once they have served their purpose the swatches are of no use to me, and I don't feel obligated to keep them.
I'm trying to avoid comparing my swatches to Sarah's. But I can't help wondering: is this the difference between artists and non-artists? All the artists I know have boxes or files full of work from prior years, including sketchbooks and studies. Sarah's swatches evoke memories of family and projects and times past. I might be able to tell you which project grew out of a certain swatch, but not in every case, even for work done less than a year ago. Most of my swatches have no particular feelings attached.
Just to be clear: I am not at all bothered by landing in the “non-artist” camp. I have never thought of myself as an artist.
What do you do with your swatches? Do you take pleasure in the nostalgia they inspire? Do you put them to use as patches, or sew them together into blankets? Are you a proud member of the "I never swatch" crew? Tell me about it in the comments.
I have a new book to recommend to you. It's Grown Women by Sarai Johnson.
This is a book about mothers and daughters. Successful academic Evelyn is the mother of cynical and deeply wounded Charlotte. Charlotte's daughter Corinna is unexpectedly optimistic and hardworking but limited by her circumstances. Corinna's daughter Camille is beautiful, intelligent, talented, and loving. Through their love of Camille, these women are presented with the opportunity to heal themselves and their relationships.
My library classified this book as African American Fiction. I think this label does the book a disservice by potentially limiting its audience. Yes, these are Black women, but the challenges and obstacles they face are not specific to their race. If you've ever been a mother or a daughter, you will recognize yourself in these pages.
This elegantly written book shines a light on the choices women make, the damage that can result from these choices, and the difficulty of healing that damage. Highly recommended.
Some things that caught my eye…
I was interviewed for Knit Picks’ Knit Peeks newsletter last week. I've designed several projects for Knit Picks over the past few years, and it is always a pleasure working with their team.
The interview includes a link to download a free copy of the pattern for my Barnstaple Vest, so click on over.
And WELCOME to the new subscribers this week, particularly those of you who found me via Knit Peeks. Please, make yourself at home.
In the wake of the recent hurricanes in the American south (I’m all good, thanks for asking!)
reminds us in the Everyday Knitter that our money is more useful to those suffering or trying to recover than anything we might knit. We tend to think knitting can save the world, but it won’t provide the food, water, shelter, and power so desperately needed. Hold these people in your thoughts as you knit, but send cash.I enjoy reading The New York Times Cooking newsletter. It's always full of delicious inspiration. In the October 4th newsletter, Sam Sifton (the founding editor of NYT Cooking), was writing about his recent frustrations with his favorite pastime, fishing. He wrote:
Delicious food keeps the spirit up when all the spirit wants to do is burn a pile of fly rods and take up a more reliably satisfying weekend activity than using them. Watching planes land at the airport, say, or sock repair.
Naturally that caught my attention. Equating sock repair to watching planes land? Seriously? I wrote Sam an email. I swear, I'm not that cranky reader who fires off rebuttals to every casual, jokey comment. But I couldn't let this one pass. Here is what I wrote:
Hello Sam -
First, let me say I'm a huge fan of NYT Cooking. Your newsletters always bring something interesting to my attention, whether it's a previously overlooked recipe or something I'll enjoy reading.
But today, I am duty bound to chide you for using "sock repair" as an example of an unsatisfying activity. I am one of thousands of people who knit wool socks by hand. For many of us, nothing is more satisfying than repairing or reinforcing the worn sections of a hand-knit sock to extend its useful life.
If the socks you wear are not worthy of repair, then you have my sympathy. I hope you meet a knitter who is willing to trade hand-knit socks for, I don't know, cooking lessons? Weekly meals?
Thanks for all you do to bring delicious food into kitchens around the country, including mine.
And what do you know? Sam wrote back. Here is his reply:
Sandi! I knew I'd get into trouble with sock people, but the joke was too good I couldn't resist. Would that I had socks worthy of repair! Maybe I'll take up the business myself. The fishing sure isn't working out for me. Cheers to you, and thanks for writing. Sam
I was tempted to write back and ask for his foot measurements, but no. First, that might seem a little creepy. And second, I don't have time to knit unsolicited socks. But it was tempting.
As always, my gratitude for your time and attention knows no bounds. You can share this post by using this button:
Continue the conversation by leaving a comment. Reading your responses is one of the best parts of my week.
That’s a lovely vest. ♥️♥️I might have thrown swatches and sketchbooks away! 😅 I also fairly regularly, consider their relevance in my life and save the ones I need. I don’t know where that puts me in the spectrum between artists and non-artists but it works for me now. 😃
I have mended a few of the socks Sandi has given me. They make the best socks to wear on chilly nights. I feel my daughter sharing her warmth with me.