Halfway through March, and you'd think it was spring already. The last few berries hang onto the tangled boxwood outside my door. The steps, slick with black leaves blown in by last month's storms, hide a secret. Just between the rise and the run, next year's foxglove has already taken root. Winter still reigns, but it won't be for long. The winds have already changed.
Last fall's mitts took a turn toward the business side of design. Has anyone ever asked you if you sell your handknits, and how much you would charge? I blogged my research into how much I would need to charge to sell a single pair of mitts.
I create traditional patterns for modern knitters; designs rooted in history that carry through to the future. When craftspeople base our work in ancient symbols, we take the cosmic leap from timelessness to transcendence. A rose on a mitten is not just a pretty decoration. It speaks to our deep selves, in a language we have largely relegated to fairy tales. Roses speak of love, romance, seduction, and in Christian iconography, they also can represent Christ or the Virgin Mary. Zigzagging lines represent water, that great realm of the subconscious, the place from which we emerge, and the great unknown to which we will all return. Work a row of dancers holding hands onto a hat for a new baby, and you surround that child with community.
Modern culture is being overwhelmed by virtualization. We live in a bath of electronic messages, and we spend increasing amounts of time using our words and our minds, but are neglecting the physical realm. We still need to make and use tools, and we need the things we make with those tools. Any mother will tell you of the overwhelming urge to wrap a new baby in beautiful, hand made clothes and blankets. Preferably ones she has made herself, or were made by her closest friends and family. Things matter.
Make something beautiful and meaningful for yourself and your loved ones. I hope you find a pattern here to get you started.