Monday
May062013

Improv

Whenever I hear the word "improvisational" or "improv", I always think of stand-up comedy.  Specifically, I think of "Whose Line Is It Anyway?"  I will never forget when I first truly appreciated this art form.  During and immediately following 9/11, every single channel was reporting what had happened.  I was sitting on my couch, staring dumbly and numbly at the television, probably drooling, probably crying and wondering what was going to happen.  As I flipped from channel to channel, continuously being bombarded by the same images, Comedy Central suddenly started airing episode after episode of "Whose Line Is It Anyway?"  It was genius.  I was frozen in front of the television like I was suddenly addicted to laughing.  No one was allowed to change the channel for fear of letting anyting other than laughter and comedy into my home.

What I have come to realize over the past few years is that this improvisational technique is difficult and takes much training.  And what looks like simple banter is the result of some serious training.  So whenever I see art that compels me and appears to be completely random, unplanned and unworked, I know some hard work and a heavily trained eye was probably behind it.  Denyse Schmidt's quilts are the perfect example of this thoughtful improvisation.

As you probably know, I love sewing and quilting.  Knitting and I are like BFFs.  We're besties.  We just get along.  I like her (yes, she's feminine) and she likes me.  However, anything having to do with sewing is more like one of those hot-blooded relationships where doors slam, voices are raised and tears are shed.  The result of sewing happens so quickly, that sometimes I don't have enough time to digest what I've done.  Or more accurately, how I could have messed up something so simple, so badly.

So when it comes to something like quilting, I've developed the habit of planning out the patchwork.  I hem and haw over the colors, which blocks go where, the order in which I'll sew them together, which way to press the seams... weeks can slip by before a single piece of fabric is cut.  A quilt I had just made about a month ago is the perfect example of this.  Yes, I love the result, but the patchwork looks so planned and was so planned. (My quilting, on the other hand, is usually free motion and I love being able to let my hands guide my brain.)

 

But, I do sit in front of my laptop for hours, scrolling through beautiful pictures of modern quilts on Pinterest and Flickr wondering how I can make such beautifully wonky, perfectly imperfect quilt tops.

So, I decided to take a deep breath and sign up for the Improvisational Patchwork class that Denyse Schmidt held at Brooklyn General.  I had been tempted to take it when I saw it posted on Denyse's site years ago.  But, it's held in her Bridgeport studio which wouldn't be easy to get to.  And the dates never seemed to work out.  I chalked it up to kismet, signed up and went last Sunday.  

WHAT A BLAST!  The workshop began with Denyse laying out the rules.  Grab from a bag, don't look and start sewing together... basically.  With total abandon, I started to piece together scraps Denyse had brought along attaching small pieces together, then medium, then large.  What happened was something so magical, I really couldn't believe my eyes.  The entire class started to put their blocks on the design wall and we were creating one of the most beautiful pieced tops I had ever seen.

 

Now, the second half of the workshop was where things got dicey.  Again, we were to piece random bits together, but incorporate the fabric we had brought along.  It was a way to have us start thinking about the improvisation.  And a way for us to find a balance between letting go, to allow the process to take over, but also to consciously make design choices along the way. This was the trick.  This was where hours of practice, making mistakes and experience would help hone.   I found it difficult to walk this line.  I was either just sewing without thinking, or really trying to figure out how my fabric could work into the block I was creating.  I was starting to actively design, when passive designing would have been more relevant.  I made the following four blocks in the second half of class.  Nothing I would have consciously made, but I can see a bit of myself in each of them.

 

It was so refreshing to spend an afternoon, moving through and learning from a different creative process being led by someone like Denyse Schmidt at such a beautifully charming store as Brooklyn General.  This is the my definition of true luxury.

Tuesday
Apr302013

Patience

Almost a year ago, I started a conversation with Quince & Co. about doing a sock design with their yarn.  I started to swatch some stitch patterns I liked and immediately fell in love with their yarn, Finch.  It's perfectly squishy - not too soft so you feel like the yarn is melting in your hands and not too stiff where you feel like you're working with twine.  The sturdy softness of this yarn is perfect for socks.  And the color!  Whenever I work with Quince, they always ask me what color I want to work with.  Usually, I'm fairly picky about how I picture a stitch pattern, or what colors I think are appropriate for clothing or accessories.  But, I can always safely answer, "Whichever.  I love them all."

So, out came Petit Fours.  As you can probably tell, I was (am) having a love affair with chevrons.  I really have no idea what that's about.  But, I do love them.  Graphic and simple.

 

© Quince & Co.

Designing socks allows me to let go a little.  I can use stitch patterns I feel may be too fussy for a garment, or a color I feel may be too loud or obnoxious.  They're socks!  I love how you just get a little peek of them and usually only when you sit down.  I'm always checking out people's socks in restaurants as I walk through, or on the subway, or while I'm standing on an escalator going up. (Businessmen really let go when it comes to their socks!)  It's such a strange habit, but I get such a kick out of people's socks.  I love the little surprises I get when I peek.  I'm never disappointed.

While we didn't collaborate directly, I was really excited to be in a sock book with Cookie A. and Star Athena - both sock superstars!  This is only my second sock design, so I was nervous to be 'round such talent.  And both of their designs blew me away.  I love Cookie's reverse stranded colorwork.  It's genius.  When you pull up a pair of socks, and if there's stranding on the inside, more likely than not, that pinky toe is going to get caught on a strand.  What a perfect solution.  And Star Athena's sweet details are so perfect for summer.  I think they'd go perfectly with my new pair of Supergas.

When the design was finally released last Wednesday, I couldn't believe my eyes, but my socks were on the cover of the booklet.  Thank you, Quince!

 

© Quince & Co.

Tuesday
Apr302013

From Corporate America to Working From Home, Part III

Wow.  I'm home now.  And I've never loved my apartment more than I do now.  The idea of working from home has an entirely new meaning to me now.  By having no actual home these past several months, I realized that I didn't just work from home, but that I didn't work in an office.  I had no place to escape to, and had no infrastructure I could rely on.  I'm not an overly dramatic person, but I have to admit:  it was a pain in the ass.  Thankfully I had just started renting a studio space, but if any of you out there know what typical studio space in Brooklyn is like, you'll know it's not some place you can go to every day, all day.  The heat is sporadic, and there is no internet service.  So I ran out and got a space heater and a MiFi card, which is like a personal HotSpot (again, see Part II where you'll need more money than you think).  My husband and I referred to every chapter in our displacement as a new adventure.  And I like that.  We explored different parts of the city and were able to break out of our routine.  My routine, which as you know, was hard-won.  Just as I had gotten down a schedule and some rituals, poof!  It all disappeared.

So, a lesson I learned over these past few months is to be flexible.  Yes, I think my case is a little extreme.  It's not every day you're displaced from your home.  And it's not every day you have to figure out things you normally take for granted like internet service, your comfortable office chair or having decent light.  But, all of this brings me back to my corporate days and all the committees and meetings based on the idea of "disaster recovery".  I had no disaster recovery plan.  And I'm realizing it's not so much all the equipment or logistics, but it's your mental state.  Simply thinking about and going through the exercise of "what would I do?" is helpful in preparing yourself.  I was completely caught off guard, and realized that my work and productivity slowed down not because I didn't have my own space to work in, but that I had been mentally slapped around and was caught off guard.

Now, I'm not sure if this next lesson is universal, but it was something that bothered me deeply, and I saw evidence of it when I was on my "adventure".  Be prepared to be misunderstood.  I'm not sure what throws people off.  Part of it is the working from home aspect, and part of it is what I do.  But, when I told people I quit my job and was going persue designing knitwear full-time, it somehow meant that I wasn't working anymore.  I kept getting asked, "How's not working?"  Or, "What's it like being unemployed?"  Better yet, "Oh, so you're just home knitting?"  And when I would talk about the difficulties I was having in regards to work while I was displaced, I would get the occasional, "But you just need to knit, right?"  In the beginning, I was offended.  Then, I started correcting people thinking part of it was my fault, not explaining and educating people as to what I did.  Now, I just smile and say, "Sure."  Even though America was built on entrepreneurial expression, it is something foreign to most.  All I can say is that we should redefine what "work" means.

Last, but definitely not least:  Do what loves you.  I know.  We hear this all the time.  Do what you love.  But what exactly does that mean?  Yea, sure - we're not going to go off on our own and do something we sort of like.  (That wouldn't get you out of bed in the mornings.)  And, I'm sure there's a laundry list of things that you love.  I love to eat; I love to run.  But when I think about true love, it's a two way street.  (Eating is actually overeating and gorging for me, and running has given me stress fractures.  I'm thinking these are one-way streets.)  So, it’s also something that has to love you back.  It has to suit you.  One of my favorite books is Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell.  And one of the themes in the book is that no one is really a natural.  No one is really an overnight success.  That if you were to examine all of the successful people out there, there would be a long line of experiences that has contributed to their success.  And when I think about my own experiences, it’s a wonder why I hadn’t started designing hand knitwear sooner.  My two absolute favorite subjects in school were Open Studio Art, and Calculus.  I loved sketching, and loved numbers and curves.  I wanted to be a fashion designer, and took classes at Parsons for a while.  And having played piano, I developed a decent level of dexterity.  Also, a major part of my last job was technical writing and editing.  I can’t tell you how handy that’s been when I have to write out a pattern.  All of these things, and all of those experiences created the right foundation for me to really take to knitwear design.  It felt serendipitous in the beginning, but looking back, I'm realizing I had been preparing for it all my life.

Oh wait - one more thing.  Take a break.  How could I almost forget!  I really never thought I'd have to force myself to take breaks, but here is the unfortunate result of doing what you love.  Some days just sitting on the couch, watching tv and eating junk food is enough.  At other times, a break can mean something completely different.  They can be productive or fun and exhausting.  I've been taking a Patternmaking class at FIT and having to go to class every week, and doing homework has forced me to take a break.  I still feel like I'm being productive, and I like doing something related to my work, but I'm breaking from my regular patterns of thinking.  And these breaks are so necessary to keep perspective and maintain creativity.

I hope my sharing these experiences and things I've learned have helped you, or at least entertained you slightly while you read my posts.  May you all spend your days doing what you love, and breaking down the barriers of what we think of as work.

Monday
Feb042013

Life Goes On

Months ago, I was preparing the third and final part of my "From Corporate America to Working From Home" post and trying to put into words how unpredictable life can be, when Hurricane Sandy hit.  While my physical apartment is undamaged, my building was hit hard and my little family had to find a temporary home.  I had hoped to write this post when I moved back home and could reflect on what had happened, but alas, I am still staying with dear dear friends (you can't imagine the generosity).

I will eventually finish up my Working From Home post.  I feel like I'm learning a lot about being flexible and working through those creative slumps, so when I get back home (fingers crossed) I'll finish that up.  But right now, I'd rather not dwell on the drudgery of being displaced and focus on... the latest collection from Brooklyn Tweed - BT Winter '13!

I just love this collection.  I'm amazed, again, that four very different designers can come together and create a cohesive collection.  You can definitely see our individuality in each design, but I think they flow from one another so fluidly.  This is in large part to Jared's clear and focused direction, but also his faith in us and letting us go with our gut instincts.  As a Creative Director, I don't know how he's able to find that balance.  It's astonishing.

I designed three garments and two accessories for this collection.  I love them all for very different reasons.  As a designer, Hellebore was invigorating, challenging and so very fun to create.  Something hand knitters don't always consider is the work involved in the actual written pattern.  Designers approach designs very differently, and I'm still trying to find out what process works best for me.  For this particular design, I spent a lot of time on the cabled charts for the sleeves before any actual knitting happened.  It was a true test of my Illustrator skills, and while I can say Illustrator got the best of me on some days, I was able to power through and create a pretty cool chart for the sleeve cap, if I do say so myself.

©Jared Flood/Brooklyn Tweed

Adara is the result of a little test I put to myself.  The test was to create a fair isle garment that is modern and easy to knit.  While I love fair isle, sometimes I find it too busy, even old-fashioned looking, when it's over an entire garment.  Additionally, I don't like "fussy" knits - of course "fussy" has a very broad meaning.  But things like steeking or knitting fair isle back and forth qualify as fussy to me. 

 

©Jared Flood/Brooklyn Tweed

So, the result was a fair isle turtleneck in worsted weight yarn where the fair isle is only knit in the round and only covers a portion of the garment. And if you haven't noticed already, the motif is split in half - the top half is an inverted reflection of the bottom half.

And Stowe.  I heart this one.  Why?  Because I just want to wear it and knit.  The color, the stitch pattern, and the silhouette all seemed to come together perfectly.  The construction on this cardigan couldn't be any easier.  Five rectangles, seamed together to make a 2-way cardigan.  What could be better? 

 

©Jared Flood/Brooklyn Tweed

I think I may need one in every neutral color.  While I was designing Stowe, I was planning on making it primarily stockinette and was swatching different ribs to put along the opening.  Eventually, I reversed it and placed the ribbing all over the garment, and used stockinette along the opening.  I liked the natural roll of stockinette and thought it would work better to soften up such a geometric silhouette.

Of course Winter wouldn't be complete without some mittens.  I love mittens and am convinced they're much warmer than gloves.  Maybe not as practical, but since I have to constantly take off whatever is on my hands for my iPhone anyway, I wear only mittens now.  I used Loft doubled for these Knoll mittens so the twisted stitch motif would "pop" a little more.  But, I think you could use Shelter if you can get the same gauge.  And right above the ribbed cuff, I used a bind-off/pick-up technique to create the braided look.  It's really easy and adds some additional interest.

©Jared Flood/Brooklyn Tweed

And you know me - I love me some cowl.  And I'm slightly obsessed with chevrons at the moment.  I've been seeing them a lot on interior design blogs, and the "zig zag" has always been one of my favorite quilt patterns.  The Warren Street Cowl is also with Loft doubled, but with two similar colors held together, Snowbound and Foothills.  The doubling makes the chevrons really squishy and the mixture of the two colors really adds some nice depth.  I just love the embossed subtletly of the stitch pattern; it's one of my favorite fabrics in this collection.

©Jared Flood/Brooklyn Tweed

Knit on, my friends!  

Wednesday
Oct172012

From Corporate America to Working From Home, Pt. II

Okie dokie - where did I leave off?  OK, so my escape plan was forming.  I was really gearing up to leave my 9-5'er and was starting to put all my ducks in a row.  This included a lot of conversations with my husband.  I felt like I had been building up to this moment for years.  And he was probably more excited about it than I was.  He was so supportive, and really helped me through the entire process, always asking me the hard questions.  Having the support from family and loved ones is crucial.  This decision doesn't affect only you, but obviously it affects all those around you.  And it's so important that they're on the same page.  The transition is a somewhat taxing one, and it's ideal to make sure all that can be smoothed out beforehand, is smoothed out.

Something I always relate to "support" is "money".  Let's face it - emotional support is one thing; financial support is quite another.  Money is a huge deciding factor.  The first question you would probably ask yourself is: can I afford to make this move?  And while I've learned to live without a lot of things (weekly manicures and shopping at lunchtime), I've realized you will need more money than you think.  Money is a necessity, and working for yourself leaves no room for romanticized notions of being able to subsist on just love and grit.  You can plan all you want and budget down to every penny, but life is funny, so they say. 

So funny that about a week after I gave notice, my husband's company declared bankruptcy.  And before my husband landed another job, our cute little Pug had to have spinal surgery and poof!  It felt like my years of saving and planning evaporated.  Oh yea, life can be fucking hysterical.

Anyway, at first it was fun.  Every day was like a Saturday.  My husband and I were really enjoying our time together, and it was during the holidays so it was good timing.  But as soon as January 1, 2012 arrived we knew we had to kick ourselves into high gear.  I quickly learned I needed structure to my day.  I didn't need every minute accounted for, but I needed to set up daily goals.  Recently, I started reading Twyla Tharp's Creative Habit and she really emphasizes the importance of ritual.  A ritual that brings you into your creative space.  A ritual that gets you into your routine.  I'm still figuring out a ritual for myself, but she's convinced me that it's necessary.  It's especially necessary if you're working from home, without a boss breathing down your neck.

It's challenging to work from home.  For so long it's been my place to relax, the place where I escape work.  People have the misconception that working from home is the best.  And there are a lot of pros.  But what people forget is that you are now WORKING from home.  Essentially, I've brought all of the stress and worry into my oasis, my fortress of solitude.  And it's definitely been interesting.  Just recently I realized my apartment looked like a sweatshop.  I had swatches blocking on the countertop.  I had garments blocking on the dining table.  I had boxes of yarn piling up in the "office".  I try to clean it up every night, but sometimes it can't happen.  You've got to be prepared to live with your work all the time.  You end up thinking about it all the time, and not just because you love it, or you're working for yourself now.  But because it's staring you in the face 24/7.  A new oasis has to be created, and it doesn't need to be a physical space.  I've taken up running again, and I'm realizing that time I'm spending by myself, free to think about whatever I want, helps me deal with it.

It's almost been a year and I'm positive I've made the right move and have zero regrets.  I'm starting to think more seriously about next steps and trying to make a growth plan for myself.  And all of this has led me to decide on renting some studio space.  (See the "You will need more money than you think" section.)  I'm excited as I've never had anything as cool as "studio space", but I'll have to reconfigure any routines I have in place.

Stay tuned for Part III!