I have bought a paper diary to keep track of my life. I usually keep track of things digitally, but I felt the urge to have everything written in ink on paper. It makes my life feel more tangible, more tactile. Right now my life is pretty much that of the mind: I write a lot plus I keep sketching and swatching for new designs. My brain is very fertile right now - but it does not make for great conversation (or indeed blogging).
I have been somewhat obsessed by indigo recently - that great, troublesome colour that is neither blue nor purple but somewhere in-between. Old Maiden Aunt does a great colour - midnight - and I have a skein of it in a dyelot that comes very close to indigo. I also have a skein of Assynt Lochs, a beautiful sportweight merino from Ripples Crafts. I look at the two hanks and I wonder if this is the beginning of a new colour obsession or whether indigo just reflects this odd in-between time which feels so intangible that I need a physical diary.
No Mood Indigo, though. It is all good. Decisions have been made and new directions are being mapped.
My Doggerland collection is coming on in leaps and bounds. It has been unwieldy beast, but I am getting there. It is all those tiny non-knitting aspects that have eaten up time. I have been fighting with the layout quite a bit and it has been a steep learning curve. I have been so used to writing long text documents that I find it a New & Interesting Experience to incorporate charts and photos. Of course I have published patterns before, but this is on a very different scale and of a very different complexity. Photo shoots have also been giving me problems as the weather has kept us on our toes. Still, I have been able tick off plenty of things on my to-do list and things are no longer moving at a glacial pace (pun intended).
People keep me sane. People keep giving me work. I like people. My paper diary once more comes to my rescue as I can flick through weeks with my fingers and the trailing pages tell me no, yes, maybe, no. And people understand.
And with peace of mind comes a creeping sense of bodily awareness. I live in my head so much that I neglect my body. My beautiful red bike was finally fixed this week. I revelled in taking it to my local bike repair shop which is owned by a kick-ass lady. Apart from fixing bikes (and selling refurbished vintage ones), she also sells vintage knitting patterns and 1970s vinyl records. No artisan beer or fair-trade coffee, but I bet you it is coming. I love my neighbourhood. I must remember to enjoy it more this summer.
Knitting. I must get back to it. It will be so good to finally show you all the things I have been working on. Not long to go now.