Yarns of This Thing of Paper: Ripples Crafts, an Interview.

Yarn. The cornerstone of every knitting obsession. When I set out to make This Thing of Paper, I knew I had to get the yarns right. I spent a lot of time looking for yarns that had the right feel and the right colours. Ripples Crafts was an early lock-in as I had previously worked with the Quinag base for my Frances Herself. I also knew that I wanted to work with the Copper Beech colourway as it reminded me of leather-bound books. Perfect. 

Hi Helen. I have loved your yarns for many years and I'm so glad you wanted to get involved with my book project. Could you tell us a bit about your yarns and yourself?.   

My name is Helen Lockhart and I began the business Ripples Crafts in 2008. I had been dyeing yarn for my own use, but it wasn’t until we made our home in Assynt in the Scottish Highlands in 2008 that I stepped up my craft and developed it into a full time business.

How do you approach dyeing?

Living in what many consider to be one of the most beautiful parts of the world inevitably influences the colours I use in my yarns and colour combinations.

The techniques I use result in colours ranging from almost solid shades which I aim to be able to repeat as closely as possible through to wildly variegated colours which are unique. I am known for my deeply saturated colours, and while I do a few pastel shades, it is the deeper, saturated shades which bring me the most joy.

Why is that? I know that is a big question.

Again, this saturation is influenced by where I live, where we have such wonderful light which show up the depth of colours in the landscape beautifully. The light in Assynt changes constantly, and at times that can be infuriating as I run indoors for my camera to capture a particular scene only to come back outside to find the light has shifted and the moment I wanted to catch is gone. But it is also what makes living here so magical.

I love how the landscape influences your making, and I am always drawn to your strong & rich colours. Now, This Thing of Paper is all about books, so do you have any books you would like to recommend to my blog readers? 

Well, being a dyer it is inevitable that two of my choices would be about colour:

“Colour : Travels through the Paintbox” by Victoria Finlay and “The Secret Lives of Colour” by Kassia St Clair. Both books are worth having for the covers alone, which I love. But both look at the history and stories behind colours and I love dipping into both books from time to time. Perhaps a more unusual choice of book to recommend would be “Gifts of Unknown Things” by Lyall Watson, but it was this book that got me interested in the concept of hearing the sound of colours along with other forms of synesthesia.

I'll be digging through those recommendations! Now, where can people find your yarns? 

You can find my yarns on my website. I fit in as many shows as I can around the UK each year including Edinburgh Yarn Festival, Woolfest, Yarndale and Loch Ness Knit Fest. I enjoy shows as it gives me an opportunity to meet many of my customers in real life, and also gives them the opportunity to see the true colours of my yarns which, at times, are difficult to portray accurately online. Many find my dye shed conveniently placed alongside the North Coast 500 driving route. While I don’t have a formal shop as such, folk are always welcome to have a peek inside the dye shed to see the process and browse and purchase yarns while they’re here.

That sounds lovely! I have a burning desire to come visit you & see the amazing landscape. However, where can people find out if they cannot make it to the Scottish Highlands and they still want to catch up with you?

You can find me on Twitter, Ravelry, where I have a Ripples Crafts group, and Instagram. 

Bibliotheca is a shawl that uses two hanks of Helen's Quinag base - the base is named after a mountain in her beloved Assynt. I'll be seeing Helen at the Loch Ness Knit Fest later this week (she is vending and I am teaching). I'm bringing the sample with me, so hopefully she approves!  

Everything is Connected

Twenty-one years ago I set up my very first website. It was hand-coded and had an "under construction" ruler at the top. I thought it was the coolest thing ever. Today you get to see my new website. It does not have an "under construction" ruler at the top, but it does have a lot of cool stuff: tutorials for you to peruse, a workshop section that's easy to navigate, and a small shop for pre-ordering my new book. Speaking of which, I have also added a section where you can see sizing and yarn requirements for the book patterns. I still think pulling a website together is the coolest thing ever. I hope you find it useful and helpful.

I've been on the road quite a bit over the last few months.

(Initially the plan was to have the book published before my busy season kicked in, but production delays meant that I have been juggling book production and website development with workshop teaching. I am very grateful to be so busy, but it has also taken a toll. We live in a world where we admire "being busy" but often forget that "being busy" is a case of too much work and inadequate planning. Hopefully now that the book is nearly here and the website is live, I can begin to breathe again. Maybe just a little bit?) 

One of my adventures took me to Faversham, a picturesque market town in Kent, England. It is home to The Yarn Dispensary, a yarn shop which has quickly become one of my favourite stops. I ran two workshops in the quirky and colourful shop, and it was such a relief to be back teaching after a summer of staring at a screen. I may be an introvert, but there is something about teaching that I just love. Maybe it is knowing that people will leave with confidence in a new skill; maybe it is that feeling you get when talented and creative people are in a space together; maybe it is that I feel good when I make other people feel good; maybe it is all of the above.

After the workshops, a friend took me to Margate to visit the sea shelter where TS Eliot wrote part of The Waste Land. I stood in the sea shelter, waved my arms around whilst kids skateboarded around me, and then we went for pizza. In a peculiar twist of fate, I have been waiting twenty-one years to make that pilgrimage. Looking out over Margate Sands and the North Sea, I kept thinking about how things can feel circular at times. Here I was in a place where Eliot wrote a key part of a poem which has defined so much of my life. Here I was looking out over the North Sea — the body of water covering Doggerland, an ancient land mass with which I feel a strange sense of belonging. It was beautiful. 

Vesterlyng, Denmark.

As I am writing this, I have just returned from another journey filled with connections. I taught two classes at Knitwork, a Copenhagen knitting festival. I took the opportunity to spend a few days with my family (my mother has been fighting cancer this year — her prognosis is good, thankfully, but it has been a tense year). My family drove us out to Vesterlyng, a low-lying area that is part beach, part sea, part fen. The sunset flickered across the pools of water, while the resident cows were silhouetted against the sky. This is my childhood landscape. An odd, unsettled (and unsettling) place of utter beauty. No matter how many people visit, it feels remote.   

Copenhagen was good as well. I walked familiar streets, my feet remembering the routes rather than my head trying to map where I was going. I really enjoyed my time at the festival: the colour palette was very different to the ones I'm used to at UK shows (if you think there is no unifying colour palette because of all the different dyers & companies, there is still an underlying aesthetic consensus that is difficult to escape — we are all caught up in our particular times & places), the general skill level was exceptionally high, and I found it so interesting to see a particular Danish sense of style (I need to write more about this). I left feeling very inspired and also intrigued. It felt good to get out of my shell. 

Now I am home, but not for long. I am away to Inverness next week to teach at Loch Ness Knit Fest where I am looking forward to meeting old and new friends. Then I'm flying off to the Oslo Strikkefestival (where I shall be investigating how the Norwegian aesthetic plays out against what I saw in Copenhagen. I have some ideas already, but let's see how they fare. Denmark & Norway are connected in interesting ways.).

And then .. and then it is time to release my book. I'll be sharing details about the book launch parties soon. I cannot wait to show you all the things we've been working on for so long. 

Phew. Hello and welcome to the new site. 

A New Favourite: Brushwork Sport

One of the perks of my job is that I get to swatch a vast range of yarns. My design process hinges on knowing which yarn would be right for a design, and I only get there by swatching several yarns. When I started knitting again after a long break, I thought all yarns were somewhat interchangeable as long as you matched gauge. Many years later I know that a) not all yarns are equal, b) a yarn's properties goes way beyond its weight, c) fibre plays a huge part, and d) the construction of the yarn is important too. In fact, finding the right yarn for a project can sometimes feel somewhat scientific (as does yarn substitution). One of the yarns I have swatched recently is Blacker Yarns' birthday yarn, Brushwork. I have worked closely with Blacker Yarns over the last year or so — they are the main yarn provider for This Thing of Paper — and I understand their passion for producing yarn with provenance, stories, and lineage. We share a strong interest in yarns that belong to a certain landscape and place. After all, a space becomes a place once we pour stories into it.

Brushwork comes with plenty of stories, and, dear reader, one of those stories is that it broke my heart.

As soon as I unpacked the yarn, I knew I was in trouble. It is a lofty, soft, sproingy yarn with subtle flecks of colour. I held it in my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, and it bounced back in my hand. I am not a spinner, nor do I possess a brilliant yarn construction vocabulary, so my best description is that Brushwork reminded me of a cross between Rowan Felted Tweed and Jamieson's Spindrift — but definitely its own beast. Reading closer, I learned it was a mix of Bowmont, Castlemilk Moorit, and British Alpaca.

Let the swatching commence.

As a personal sacrifice, I swatched twice: first on 3.5mm and then on 4mm. The first swatch gave me a nice, firm fabric. It bloomed slightly upon blocking but retained its shape nicely. It would make for a beautiful cardigan or jumper where the yarn would do most of the work. The second swatch was much drapier and supple. Knitted on 4mm needles, Brushwork would definitely make a beautiful scarf or hat. I began thinking about cables and pom pom-adorned hats.

The heartbreak came when I learned that this is not going to be a permanent addition to the Blacker range. Brushwork is as close to my Platonic ideal of a yarn that I have found — bouncy, complex, soft, woolly, takes all sorts of stitch patterns - but it is not sticking around for me. Instead it will make its debut at Yarndale where you will all snap it up (because you are clever and recognise brilliance when you see it).

Heartbreak in a yarn ball. Which is pretty much the highest praise I can bestow upon it.

The End of the Summer? Hello Knitting!

Outside the sun is shining, but the wall planner speaks the truth: we are close to the end of summer here in the Northern Hemisphere. While some people mourn the loss of long summer nights, I am looking forward to the knitting season really starting. While I knit all year, I know many people prefer to wait until the leaves start to turn and the autumn rain sets in. This autumn I am teaching workshops across Europe (see my itinerary here) and I cannot wait to get inspired by all the amazing knitters I meet. Everyone has a story to tell and I love hearing them. Will I see you there? I hope so.

As I wrote in a recent Kickstarter update, my work on my book, This Thing of Paper, is pretty much done now. All the patterns are designed, written, edited, and photographed. All the essays are done as are the schematics. I live with a pile of cardboard boxes in my tiny kitchen — they are all full of Kickstarter backer perks. At the moment I am writing tutorials for this website as well as stories I could not fit into the book (though it will be more than 100 pages long!). I am itching to share all the hard work with you.

So where is the book?

I'm looking at my wall planner and today feels quite awful. I had PRINT! written in big letters on today's day, but we ran into unforeseen production delays exactly two weeks ago. I have done what I could from my end, but ultimately these delays are beyond my control. I join you in feeling very frustrated, but I can tell you that I'm really proud of what my small team has produced. While I'm the designer, author, and creative director of This Thing of Paper, the book is very much a real team effort. I'll be introducing you to the designs, the ideas, and the amazing team in future blog posts as we gear up for launch date.

As for knitting, I'm in the peculiar situation of having a tonne of things to show you, but also being a bit in limbo. I have a distinct sense of not being able to turn the last few pages of This Thing of Paper just yet. There are a few collaborations in the pipeline, though, and I'm easing my way back into design concept work. I also have a cardigan on my needles and some swatches of ideas I cannot resist.

For the first time in a year I am back to reading non-work related books(!) and my first proper read was Emily St John Mandel's Station Eleven. In hindsight, a post-apocalyptic novel set in near-future North America was probably not the right book for my current mindset. I used to enjoy dystopian fiction, but nowadays I feel I get enough of that from the evening news. Then I read Meredith Duran's A Lady's Code of Misconduct which worked much better for me — despite its constant reminder of the despicable callousness of British politicians which is also way too real. Duran writes intelligent and densely plotted historical romances; I recommend her The Duke of Shadows, a damming indictment of British colonialism and imperialism in 19th century India (the cover is terrible, I know). Misconduct isn't quite Shadows, but it was equally engaging and infuriating as its central characters clearly struggled with the options within a rigid Victorian society. I have also been dipping in and out of Nasty Women (which shares certain themes with both Duran and Mandel).

Recommendations for fiction and non-fiction alike are always welcome in the comments. I'm really keen to read beyond authors already amplified by traditional publishing and I will happily support small independent presses. So, let me know what you have been reading lately and what you have on your needles?

Behind the Scenes! News! Photos! Oh My!

Yesterday I took the day off to have fish and chips at a seaside town with a friend & her dog which was a nice stress buster.  Summer is in its late stages here in the UK — and so is the This Thing of Paper project. Behind the scenes we are very busy with ticking things off lists and making sure that we are on track. It is not quite the most glamorous part of the process, but it feels rather satisfying. Team Bookish has been expanded as a result of all this activity: please join me in welcoming the lovely Penny. Some of you will start hearing from Penny rather than me as she is dealing with day-to-day business while I'm busy elsewhere. I have been working flat-out over the last six months, so it was definitely time to start delegating rather than risk burn-out! People have begun asking me if the book will be available to purchase for non-Kickstarter backers. Yes, of course! This is one of the things we are currently working on! If you are a yarn shop or retailer who'd like to pre-order copies, please get in touch.

I have been sharing sneaky glimpses of This Thing of Paper. I'll be sharing  actual details soon, but I thought you might also like to see the photos.

Speaking of Instagram, a few people have started a very informal KAL which they call #karielaceshawlkal - I am told there are no rules except the pattern has to be by yours truly (Mahy is getting a lot of love, as is Karise), you tag your photos with the aforementioned hashtag, and you have a great time hanging out with everyone else. No deadline. No yarns you absolutely have to use. No nonsense. We do not like nonsense.

However, there is no rule forbidding me from offering informal prizes! I've started a thread in the Ravelry group with more details — feel free to check in there but mostly you should just hang out with like-minded folks on Instagram. I love browsing the hashtag after a busy day and seeing all the creativity on display.

Phew. Back to my list and thank you so much for all your support. This is such a strange, exiting time for me.

This Thing of Paper - An Update

The manuscript has been handed in.

I began working on This Thing of Paper around two years ago. The first concept work, the colour palette and the initial research fell into place around then. Then late spring 2016 I took a deep breath and announced to the world what I was planning. More than 700 people decided to back me via Kickstarter. The work really began a year ago.

In the past year I have learned a lot.

I already knew how to do my job: sketching, swatching, grading, pattern-writing, technical editing, copy editing, styling, organising a photo shoot (and modelling), researching, and sample-knitting (I out-sourced three samples, but the rest was in-house!). However, my job seemed a lot more complex when I had to do all of those things for twelve patterns  — eleven of which are in the book and one which is an exclusive Kickstarter extra. I also had to write essays, press releases, design book extras, and some other extra bits yet to be unveiled. I always enjoy pulling a collection together, but it has been hard work.

In the past year I have learned about the importance of saying no, how important your team is, the art of compromise (and when to do it), and just how stubborn I can be. I have also learned that unkind people will ask me "how's the book coming along" when I post about being out for my birthday dinner or visiting a very sick relative in hospital (!!). I have learned that good preparation will save a bunch of time, but other things will come along and throw you off. I have learned that I can do more than I thought myself capable of doing.

The manuscript is now with my graphic designer. The book team will then review the proof one last time before This Thing of Paper is printed. I am currently working on all those extra bits that you'll learn about soon.

I'll be updating workshop dates this week. Book release date is yet to be confirmed but I should know more a fortnight from now.

Thanks for sticking around, folks! We are nearly there.