A couple of lace socks, waiting for their mates to be finished:

First, the Miranda socks (80 sts on size 0 needles!). The pattern is from Nancy Bush's "Vintage Knitted Socks." I used Invicta Sheepjes for these. I'm not crazy about size 0 needles; it makes the working of the k 2 togs (which is needed every other row) kind of tight and uncomfortable.



That said, the second sock of the pair is proceeding faster, now that I've figured out the rhythm and secret of the pattern.

The second sock is the Waving Lace sock. Again, once I figured out the rhythm of the pattern, it went pretty fast (I still haven't begun the second sock for these; I just finished this one about 15 minutes ago).



The pattern is from the Interweave sock book, and I'm using Lorna's Laces in a pale apricot color.



I like how the lace totally comes alive when you put the sock on your foot; the empty sock looks kind of "dead," but you can see the lace "wave" when the sock is on.


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TChem commented in her most recent post about the idea of a person finding the craft or art in which his or her "voice" comes out the most clearly. I've been thinking about that; I think part of the reason I enjoy making "critters" (be they sewn, knitted, or crocheted), even when I'm using someone else's pattern, is that it feels to me like the situation where my creative voice comes out the most - the way I do the faces tends to be unlike what other people do, and even when I'm using someone else's pattern I often go my own way with it.

I feel that way to a similar extent when I'm quilting - I almost never use the "recommended" color combination for a quilt; more likely I start choosing fabric and then once I've got the fabrics I want to use together laid out, I choose what pattern I want to use with them. (I think this is the reverse of what some people do, where they pick a pattern and then buy the fabric for it.) It seems my "most effective" (to my eyes at least) quilts come when I choose fabrics I like FIRST, then lay them out together and let them "speak to me" - that is, let how I feel about the fabric guide me as to what pattern I use.

As much as I enjoy knitting sweaters and such, I don't have quite that same sense of "a ha" moments (except, maybe, when I'm designing something myself, which is kind of rare these days).

(I also realize that the things I tend to feel more driven to FINISH - not just "so this is done and I can move on to the next project" but "I really want to see how this comes out!" tend to be the quilts and critters and self-designed things).

Another thought: making critters and making quilts are among the first crafts I learned (critters were first of all; quilts came a couple years later). Maybe it's greater expertise or comfort with the techniques, or maybe it's that with those, I'm still kind of able to tap into the "beginner's mind" that I had as a child, where I wasn't as uptight about doing things "right" or having them "look good" (to anyone other than me).

Don't get me wrong - I still find knitting sweaters-hats-socks-scarves-whatever enjoyable and satisfying. But it's a different, perhaps more practical kind of satisfaction. With the sweaters, for example, I enjoy them because I just plain enjoy the motion of knitting, and it gives me a feeling of self-sufficiency (not unlike I feel when making bread). And I love the finished product. But with the quilts and the critters, it feels more like there's a little bit of ME in there, like I'm saying something I need to say but can't say in words, somehow.