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January 21, 2005

***

Here's the thing~ its hard to write a proper Knit-A-Log without an internet connection or a computer of one's own, or a camera for that matter. Lots of knitting has been going on, from my temporary digs, which I am kind of digging, in a way, at the Pink Palace. Perhaps its even more suited to knitting since time has apparently forgotten it. In general lately I have had a sense of being stranded in a type of suspended animation. Its been growing steadily. I wonder at what point my heart rate will slow, my breathing become shallow, and I will succumb. Will they find me on my back in the swimming pool, not dead, but looking like the painted Ophelia, hands folded serenely over my mid-section, mouth slightly open?
Well. There are advantages to being a semi-homeless knitting nun. For one thing I really can take an afternoon swim, and not in the Chicago River either. The place where I am living, with my mother, was built in the 1930s. Its the color of Pepto-Bismol and has an outrageous crystal chandelier in the front entrance. There are doormen and a few too many elevators, as during the construction the Depression hit and so they made it a little shorter than originally planned. At some point it went terribly out of style, and plus the neighborhood went all to hell, and thus it was cheap to buy there. Now its coming up and there is a $tarbux and everything, so people are moving in again. Nobody swims but there is this crazy pool and there is a wall of windows out onto the garden and the lakefront beyond. There is no lifeguard and there is this old radio and so you can rock out and watch the snow from the middle of the deep end on your back to Led Zeppelin. Last night this is what I did, as the sun went down and the sky turned grey to lavender and the room went dim.
At that point I could not deny that I live a charmed life.
Other times I'm not so sure.
In any event, the Floof is done! I wish I could post a photo but I am without a camera for the moment.
Trust me when I say it is one glamorous garment.
The huge Noro/Manos blanket is almost completed as well. It has grown almost unwieldy, and when I sit to work on it I can drape it down my lap and onto the floor. The colors are outrageous, almost blinding in their deliciousness. Someday, someday I will post photos!
I've also completed two legs for a new animal, I'm thinking monkey, but maybe elephant or cat. The legs would make splendid knee socks for Marcel but he won't stand for it. He just wants to eat em. Dogs.

Posted by pippypippy at 04:11 PM | Comments (2)

January 18, 2005

nippy knit-a-log

Its soooo COLD!!!
Why oh why oh why, why do people live in Chicago and why do I after 37 years???
Its not sane.

Posted by pippypippy at 05:49 PM | Comments (1)

January 01, 2005

its about time

Look out Knit-A-Log readers! Its the first Knit-A-Log of 2005, and I'm on my second pot of coffee!

It was a rather quiet New Year's Eve, I thought, but fun. Everyone who knew where the coolest people, best food, and lots of excellent wine brought by tasteful worldly types who know from wine were to be found showed up at (internationally famous best selling novelist and *my personal friend*) Audrey's. Not only were the people beautiful, quirky, and, I have to add, impeccably accessorized, but the taxidermied animals were too! Audrey's collection thus far includes (and this list is probably incomplete) a woodchuck, (splendidly attired for the occasion in silver holiday ribbon couture) a badger, an owl in flight, an armadillo, a squirrel, various alligator parts, as well as one whole small alligator, a turtle, which is my current favorite, and finally, the one I fully expect Audrey to leave me in her will~ a gorgeously feathered kitchen chicken. How will my chicken kitchen be complete without one? I am insane with envy. Someday, someday I will have one too!!
Anyway, there was much lively conversation with old friends and new, much of it about art and etching in particular, which left me with an itchy scraper finger, which sounds disgusting. Not to worry! Its not a disease!! I will be okay, and maybe, just maybe I will draw something, which would be nice for a change. We'll see.
Oh, and two people, 2!, guessed my age when I told them it had been my birthday. Neither one guessed I could be older than 35, (one had an inkling I was older than I looked) one said 27, the other 28. Well! Maybe they were just being polite, and I was being silly from wine, but it made me feel much better about this whole birthday thing. Especially in light of Thomas having pointed out to me earlier in the day that not only was I now a prime number (which is fine) but also in my Late Thirties. Not middle thirties anymore. Thanks, Thomas!

This morning I was laying in bed watching the squirrels who visit the dumpster below my bedroom window. Which made me think of unseen, unappreciated goings-on in general. Maybe, I thought, there are these 11 dimensions and we are blind bottomfeeders in the universe. Oh! For eyes in the palms of my hands! For octopus suckers on the insides of my arms! To experience the world that much more deeply I would wrap my 8 arms around everything!
Looking at tsunami pictures online I was aware of staring at people through all of these layers, the camera, the internet, the monitor. And here I was having this need to stare at this wreckage, in that way that we all tend to stare at wreckage. It seems wherever there is wreckage there is the urge to stare. Is it because is makes me feel lucky, or puny, or glad to be alive? Is it because I want to know about forces beyond my control but not have to experience them? Do people stare at wreckage because we are trying to learn something about death to make us less scared of it? Within reason it can be beautiful to see everything that is familiar turned upside down. Then new things have to grow out of it, and old things are remembered, embellished, mourned, and also transformed, in a way which is beautiful and appalling. I saw photos of Indian women mourning, their hands outstretched, their faces contorted with pain, and there was no question they were beautiful. There was a funeral for 5 Indian schoolchildren in caskets with windows in them to view their faces, and a crowd gathered around to mourn. On an Indian beach workers hoisted the giant wooden spokes and gears of a broken ferris wheel.
Even now the New Year is swallowing us up and moving us along.
Time is collapsing and expanding like an accordion.
Can you feel it??

Posted by pippypippy at 10:46 AM | Comments (2)