Art Yarn. Or possibly, Bob Yarn.

What do you get when you cross Shetland with Crosspatch?

Twice as much two-ply as you might have had, spinning them alone!  I took the morning off to ply up these singles, and see what all the fuss is about with yarn that is intentionally bumpy, irregular and unpredictable.

I asked myself, "Would I buy this skein of yarn if I were just now seeing it for the first time?"  And the answer is "I'm not sure.  Is it on sale?"

But then I laid aside my smoothness prejudice ( I really like it when I know what size each stitch is going to be), and tried to embrace my inner spinner.  She's only 2 years old, after all, and there is still a lot she has to explore about spinning.

I decided that I like the colors, especially the surprises of the odd bright blue or lavender speck.  I think I dig it, as a skein, but I might like it less, once knitted.  On the other hand, knitted yarn is so much different than skeined yarn that they are almost different species, so I really should suspend judgement.

There are going to be about 300 yards of this, once finished.  Bigger brains than mine should suggest what to make with it...

Surgical Precision

Got my first batch of edited chapters back this week.  My editor is great.  Extremely fair and open to my work.  She is also forced to be my teacher, to a great degree, because the sort of book that I'm working on has to be written to the publisher's exact specifications.  It's part of a series, all of which follow an identical format.

So there *may* be some rewriting in my immediate future.  Like, today, immediate.

I'm working really hard, but only with my brain.  It's so weird - I stand up from my desk and it's like my body has completely forgotten what it's supposed to do, while my brain is completely exhausted and refuses to go.

I keep finding myself in rooms that aren't where my computer is, wondering what I went in there for.  The exception to this is of course, the Laundry Room, where Mount Washmore is always waiting for me.  I think I go in there just because I know that when I find myself there, I will remember what I'm meant to do.  There may be a cognition delay, but at least in there, it comes back to me.

Other rooms are far more ambiguous.  I just noticed myself standing in the bedroom, gazing longingly at the bed and thinking that maybe a nap would be in order.  And then I remembered that the reason I had gone there was to find a book I need to reference.  For a sentence I think I have been writing for three days.  Or ten minutes - I'm not sure which.

Editing is hard, because its basic premise is that what has been done so far is in some way lacking, insufficient, off-base or just plain wrong.  What a bizarrely unpleasant sieve to force one's work through.  I am fortunately able to separate my personal self from my creative products (usually), but it's still not as much fun as some other parts of the process.  Like the knitting part.  Or the designing part.  Or the seeing my book in the bookstore part.

I am reminding myself that if it were easy, then everybody would do it.  But I think it's time for a little self-bribery.  As soon as I get this chapter finished, I'm taking a course of retail therapy.  I think there might be a pair of shoes out there someplace with my name on it.

Daydreaming

Now that I'm back up off the floor, it's work work work on the book, and its associated book-y projects.  I wish I could show them to you, but like me, you'll have to wait till it's all done...

While I work, my focus constantly drifts off to other projects I'm not at liberty to pursue at the moment.  Here's where it goes today:
 

The Cormo.  Yes, I'm still thinking about it.  Not spinning it (Epic powers of self-restraint, Engage!).  Just wishing I were, and then imagining what I would knit from it, and wondering how much finished yarn there will be (I think it's a lot - the fleece is lighter than air and still weighs over 3 pounds), and thinking about all the colors I could dye it, if I were to dye it, or maybe the creamy perfection of the natural color is all I really need...

Phillip is correct:  Spinning is an absolutely great fiber art, because you only pay for a fleece once, but you get to play with it at least three different times:  Spinning, dyeing, knitting.  If you are on the fence about starting spinning, allow me to offer you this gentle shove off it:  You'll get more fiber fun for your money.  It's just being fiscally responsible!  Now go buy a wheel.

The new lace issue of Piecework is available, free when you subscribe, in which this lovely bit of flotsam is published.  It's called The Dragon Scarf.  And while I'm not usually a lace knitter, I think one day I might like to be.  The geometry of this piece really grabs me.  I like the way it's all diamond-y.  And what if it were made in some yarn with a big halo that blurred the sharp edges?  Or a slinky silk with gobs of shine?  Or a crunchy linen for summer that really holds out the sharp corners?  I'm NOT going off in search of a ball of hemp yarn to play with, just to see what happens.  I'm Not.

My friend Sivia is a gifted artist, in the same way that Lance Armstrong is sort of good with a bicycle.  Her brain is absolutely huge, and she's just full of surprises.  Here's a necklace she made.  Another friend of mine brought one like it to knit night a couple of weeks back.  Blew my mind, and now I can't quit thinking about it.  You can get the kit in various colors, and I'm dying to make one to wear to my brother in-law's wedding.  Which is Saturday after next.  As. If.  It's not reasonable at all, unless I stopped all profitable activity.  To the voices in my head: "Shut it.  Book writing = Groceries."

And in case all of the above weren't distraction enough, I still keep thinking about looms.  Stoopid weaving.  Why won't it leave me alone, anyway?  What did I ever do to looms that they will not now get outta my head?  Don't know, but there they still are.  Really?  Just how many ways do I need to be able to play with string, anyway?  I know: How many are there?

So what's on your minds, Gentle Readers?  What's got you distracted?  Weigh in, won't you, so I know I'm not alone in the wistful soup of Project Lust...?