Week 16 monochrome riverscape


Week 16 monochrome riverscape
Originally uploaded by Dancing Crow.

I was thinking that I’d try the underlying structure of the river with just texture, and then paint over it. But I rather like it plain white as well.

Last Sunday I went to see the Yarn Harlot, along with 999 other knitters including my old friend Mary Hulser and her friend with a new blog Michelle. We laughed for an hour straight. We filled the Calvin theater. We totally rocked the joint.

At one point, she was commenting on how people found time to knit. We know, of course, that we knit in the interstices of everything else. There are times when we sit and knit, instead of other things, there are times when we knit and watch TV. We knit waiting for things, and thinking about other things, and talking to people…

Two days later I caught up with one of my favorite blogs, and she mentioned Gin, Television and Social Surplus. In that piece, a writer and social commentator was speaking with a TV producer about what people do in their extra time. The TV producer asked where people found the time to do – anything – and the writer snapped that TV people couldn’t legitimately ask that question because they have been pushing TV for the last 50 years as the answer. There was a very interesting calculation of the TV hours equivalent in Wikipedia. And that, I thought in triumph, is where I find time to make things, and knit, and read. Time that is not spent watching TV or thinking about what I should be consuming.

That push to consume is the reason I seem to be reading all my magazines as blah blah blah too – I can’t read past the ads to see what the articles might be telling me, and what they seem to tell me is to buy (more) stuff. So I donated them. And don’t even get me started on mainstream women’s magazines. They make you nervous and make you feel awful about yourself and then sell you all the answers courtesy of the advertisers. I am understanding more and more why advertising-free is so important to magazines intent on having only the message heard, like the Caris Publishing ones that come to us for the kids, or Ms. Magazine.

I digress.