Making as a habit

I often get asked how I make so many things….. “especially with the three kids and the travel – I don’t know how you do it?” A while ago I wrote a blog post that describes many of the ways I fit in crafting time. But last week I read something that made me think that that blog post had missed something rather important. Yes - all those ways to fit in craft are totally true. For example I do craft on-the-go and make sure I have things dotted around the house. But I think there is a better way to sum up my productivity and that is – I have made craft a habit.

This year I have been trying to start running again. Since having my third kid (many years ago!) I haven't been exercising regularly and I really want to fix it.  I try in spits and spurts but nothing really sticks. Then this week I came across this article in an old magazine about this idea called #runstreak. With #runstreak you commit to running a mile a day, every day, for as long as the streak lasts (some people do a year, some a month etc). No days off. Part of the idea is that by making a commitment to do the streak, you turn off the internal “should I, shouldn’t I, maybe today I will, or I won’t” rubbish that goes on when you have days off, and over time running becomes a habit. Now I know this internal dialogue is a barrier for me – I find excuses and make it hard when it doesn’t need to be. It is as simple as a. put on sneakers then b. walk out door. 

I got to thinking that while at the moment running isn’t a habit, making and crafting totally is. I always pick some craft up on the way out the door along with my keys, wallet, mobile and camera. I pick up some craft when I have my mid-morning coffee or am watching a movie, or when I have completed a good run of housework. I always knit at school pickup, while the kid is at violin, while I am a passenger in the car. I always try to sew a few seams while they are in the bath.

Making habitually is littered throughout my life. Almost like breathing. I just do it, without thought. It really is just part of my everyday. 

That is not to say that everything I make is like this. Obviously some things require thought and planning, time and space, but I always have projects underway that can be done without thought. Which is how the majority of my making happens.

Taking photos for me is now also the same; habitual. The camera is often in my hand as we travel, and I do it almost without thinking. Sometimes I consciously put it away in order to make sure I don’t take photos and am able to just be. And it is the same with my craft. If I want to be sure I don't pick it up then I need to put it away as the habit is so ingrained.

One of those times when the camera was put away on purpose. This photo was all I took when walking from Vernazza to Corniglia in the Cinque Terre.

I cast on the cowl in the photos for this exact purpose – to have something to make habitually. At the time everything else I was working on required thought. The cardigan was also made in the same way. Easy knitting to be done with my fingers and not with my head.

Suggestions for how to make crafting a habit.

 1. Start small

One of the articles I found while reading about #runstreak gave 29 ways to successfully ingrain a new habit. The jist of the article was that habits are hard to change and so you need to start small and only try to change one thing at a time. Start with just 5 minutes a day of your new activity. The idea is that the new habit would slowly become like having a shower or brushing your teeth.

2. Choose a trigger activity

Another suggestion from the article (when adapted to crafting rather than running) was that you should choose one thing that you want to be a trigger – tv, cartrips, school pickup. Just try to have a project ready for that activity each time you do it.

You will be surprised what you achieve by doing a single stitch here and there.

Is your crafting habitual or do you try to carve out crafting time?  For many of you I am guessing that like me it is both?

Felicia x

But "why"?

So I was on a bridge the other day when a woman complimented my girls on their frocks. My middle kid started telling the woman that her mum made them, and that I make most of their clothes*. And the woman ……well she said “why?”

Because you are reading the blog I’m going to assume that you understand why. But as I’m totally feeling the craft joy over the last few days I thought I would list a few just in case you want some easy answers if you are ever asked. I’d love to hear some more in the comments.

I've started two new projects in the last week and both of them are totally doing it for me in different ways. Project 1 is the Brooklyn Tweed Shale Baby Blanket and Project 2 is another version of Granny’s Favourite but with colourwork rather than the lace.

Without further ado here are my reasons “why”!

The pure happiness you have inside when lost in making

I talked about it a little bit in my last post – about the thrill of doing something you get lost in.  I saw this TED talk the other night which was talking about when we are truly happy. She said that it was often when we weren’t caught up in our ego and were totally lost in what we are doing. There are other places in my life where that happens but craft is the biggest.

The joy of starting something new

After finishing something big I often give myself permission to get my cast on (it would be my sew on too except that I am still far from home without a hoop or sewing machine). And humans seem to love a bit of new don’t they.  Pure excitement.

The sensual thrill of working with beautiful materials

I’m using Pear Tree Supersoft to make the yellow baby blanket in the pictures. This yarn is probably my all time favourite yarn but sadly the company is no more. However after extensive stalking of people’s Ravelry stash, due to the fact I love the yarn and due to the fact my SIL loves this colour (she is the one having the baby!), I finally turned up some of more of this yarn. I don’t even want to think about it’s transport miles, but the feeling of this yarn, the softness, the thick, the thin running through your hands is pure sensual joy! It truly is supersoft and yet it retains it’s sturdiness and has structure. It has a special place in my heart and so every time I am working with it I am aware of its qualities. It is all in the fingertips.

The meditative joy of making something for someone special

The baby blanket to me is also much more than the joy of working with the beautiful yarn. Attached to it is all the sentiment and love for the new person who will be born and receive it. Thoughts about that baby (and his/her lovely older sibiling) mean that knitting this blanket is a meditation of sorts on the love to come.

The absolute excitement of coming up with an idea that sings

We have been travelling for over four months now and one child has done that growing thing in spades. Her only cardy has sleeves that are almost at her elbows, so I thought I would whip her up something before I headed home for The Craft Sessions. I have been enjoying colourwork so much I wanted to do a little more, but when choosing from my box in the car I had super limited options. I used two yarns I wouldn’t normally have thought to pair and I made a little magic. By accident. I cannot put this thing down I am so excited. 

What have I missed?

Felicia x

*possibly not entirely true anymore as there are three of them and they seem to be growing quicker than I can keep up…

Women and Craft - A love story.

By the time I finished university at the age of 26, I was itching for some adventure. I worked for a scant few months to save some money, before jetting off with no plans and no idea how long I would be away for. I think I murmured something about being home in time for Christmas. Which I was – just six years later…

I arrived home pregnant and now in my early 30s, and the women I had left behind, my women, were thin on the ground. Many had moved overseas or interstate. Some were doing that corporate thing, rather than the kid thing. Others had just moved to the other side of Melbourne. It became clear to me over that first year back that coming home actually meant starting again.

I needed to find myself a whole new community, which to tell you the truth felt a little daunting.  As a new parent with a small fella who did a lot of screaming and not much sleeping, trying to bond with women at the local mothers group was often just excruciating. Their babies peacefully slept on their bunny rugs on the floor of the community centre, while mine was a. screaming and b. throwing up all over me. Did I mention that he was also a chucker?

After a long hiatus, and like many women before me, I started crafting around the time I had kids. And so I was making. And making. And making. Making mainly to feel the joy. To feel that little spark you feel when you are lost in whatever you are creating. And I was making to own a little part of my day. The tiny part that wasn’t owned by housework or small people.

A second kid was born not long after the first and things were good. I had made friends and it was friendly, but I hadn’t really met my people. Friendships were based around our kids and while they were nice people, there wasn’t that ease you have when you find your place. 

What I didn’t know then, that I do know now, is that things were going to get a whole lot better. A chance meeting on the street one day meant that I became friends with this woman. I liked her that first day. Then I ran into her again. She gave me her number – because she is like that – and after a few days I called her.

The beautiful hands of the wonderful woman who asked me out for a coffee.

I remember calling her. It felt like I was asking someone out. We had coffee and discovered that we both made things. Then there was another chance meeting with someone we both kind of knew – another crafter - and a date was made for a craft night. Something simple at someone’s house. That second woman invited someone else to that first night, and then we were four. By the end of the night we agreed to do it again in two weeks time. A month felt like too long to wait. 

We began talking that night and didn’t stop for the year and a half of fortnightly Tuesdays. Four women, a cake and a couple of bottles of wine and craft. Pure magic! Some nights I don’t think we were that productive craft-wise but the joy was there in spades. We talked and laughed and argued about ev-e-ry-thing, late into the night and none of us missed an evening. We knew nothing about one another when we began. It's now seven years later and I know I will grow old with them.

So here is the thing - the whole point of this post - I truly believe that craft was the key to bringing these friendships to me and making them hum. Not just because it gave us a reason to meet up in the first place – which it did. But also because to be a crafter, means that you must understand and value the energy and joy that goes into making with your hands. You must get it! And as crafting is such an important part of my life, I think sharing that value is a wonderful space in which to start a friendship.

Then the what you make, how you make, what you are scared of, how you approach things, tell you so much about a person; who they are or how they are feeling on a given day, that there really is a kind of magic to how you get to know someone. When you are making something, creating something, you have that little spark inside you that makes you feel a little bit more alive, and in my opinion from the outside you look a little bit shiny. You have the joy! And that is a great energy to bring to anyone’s kitchen table.

Crafting gives you a reason to work together, encourage one another, be generous with one another - it gives you the space and a framework to form a friendship. Making together means that you get to see that creative hum in someone else; and it is truly beautiful to watch.

Since that first group, I have been lucky enough to be part of quite a few other craft groups, big and small. I have watched the magic happen over and over again, and friendships form.  Some groups have fallen apart, some just fade away and others have morphed into something completely new. And I have been lucky enough to form and strengthen friendships through each and every one. I found my people!

Which then inspired me to start a craft retreat; mainly as a way to create a space to come together in Australia as a larger group to connect around our shared love. But it would not have happened without the encouragement and ideas of my craft group, and it would not exist without their help and support. 

Crafting has been the catalyst for connection with a whole range of beautiful, wise women that I now have in my life – and for that I am truly grateful!

I realise I said magic a lot this post and for that I apologise ;). I’d love to hear your craft group stories? Love them, hate them, never tried them….You don’t need to use the word magic. Promise.

Felicia x 

P. S. And now for the world’s best segue…. You too can participate in a big craft group called The Craft Sessions. Our event is held September 5-7 in the Yarra Valley, and we have so many lovely women coming. Women from nearly every state in Australia and even few from NZ. Top women and magic teachers!  And you can pick up your tickets by clicking on the link register at the top of the page. Registration closes tonight so this really is your last chance for this year!

The Great Colourwork Monogamy Strategy

So before we had our first baby, we went to a “Having a Baby” class. A great class with a great teacher – she had wisdom etched in the lines of her face - which is what you want. At the time, with our heads full of the sparkle and static of having our first baby, I didn’t understand that one of the things she taught me, was going to be one of those pieces of self knowledge that changes your life forever.

Sitting crossed legged on the floor, facing our partners, she asked us this simple question. “In stressful times, what is your natural reaction – fight or flight?” Now as I am hhmmming and ahhhmming, my partner is grinning and almost guffawing. Obvious to him and not so much to me, until that moment.

I am a runner. I run metaphorically and I run physically away from the pain. Any pain*. And although I am not a natural runner (if you meet me one day that will make sense) I can run fast when the need arises. When I have a problem, am feeling uncomfortable or unsure, I avoid the whole schmozzle and go to a happy place somewhere else. A little bit “run away, run away”, a little bit “ignore it, it will go away” crossed with a little bit “if it can’t catch me it doesn’t exist”.  

Running can look like lots of things. I can turn anything negative into something positive (otherwise known as running). I can find “solutions” to things that don’t need solving (more running). I can just pretend something isn’t a problem at all but pretending it doesn’t exist (and even more running). I do happy. I don’t do any of that other stuff. Or at least I used to.

About now I can hear you start thinking “but what about the crafting” and “who cares about babies”. And so here comes the lifechanging bit. Learning that piece of information (fight or flight), and really understanding what I do in any situation that is uncomfortable/sad/blah/blah - means that I now have much greater control over my life. Now I watch myself start to run, and often I stage a coup!

And so was born The Great Colourwork Monogamy Strategy. Otherwise known as Monogamy is The New Black.

I’ve talked about my love for multiple projects before on this blog. I think I even titled the post “Multiple projects are the way forward” and I totally still believe it. Some projects for comfort, some for utility, some for presents, some for art etc. Crafting to fit the need or mood you have on the day. Crafting for your life.

However in this case I knew that having multiple projects wasn’t going to get the job done. I knew that this sweater was going to be uncomfortable for me. And I knew I would avoid it. Even though I really wanted to see the outcome, I would avoid the discomfort.

Discomfort because I don’t know that much about colourwork. I don’t know for sure how to combine colours and patterns to achieve the effect (gorgeous!) that I want. It could just as easily turn out to be really ugly. And I like getting things right. Discomfort because I don’t have the internet like I normally would. I couldn’t check my “how-tos” at a moments notice when I wasn’t sure about something technical, like what to do with a float longer than five stitches. And while I was ready to “Rip with Joy” because I wanted to make this jumper something I could be proud of, I knew that there was no way to do this without making lots and lots of mistakes. And mistakes are sometimes uncomfortable. And many many mistakes can take me well into running mode.

Almost finished!

After getting a little way into the knitting  – and realising it had sat in the pile for a good month untouched because I wasn’t sure what to do next – I knew that I needed to act. In this case staging a coup meant looking at all the things I was doing instead of the cardigan and getting rid of them. It was clear that the solution boiled down to some monogamy. I needed nowhere else to turn in my time of need. 

No sweet little Pebble vest calling to me with its ease, constancy and guarantee of a good result.** No brand new, me-designed sweater for the girlchild which I had swatched for in a brilliant blue. No other options. That way the only option available to me – as I would still have to knit – would be to get on and do the colourwork. Sometimes that would mean I would have to sit with the discomfort of not knowing what to do and not knowing what was right. Because I was monogamous. Take that you runner you! You have nowhere to hide.

After posting the instagram picture (from the start of this post) where I thought I was nearly finished, I realised it still didn’t sit right and that I would have to rip it out again. I ripped the yoke three more times after that last photo; at least five times in total. Then I did the neck and got that wrong. And then ripped it and did it again.

This is not the way I normally work. I would rip once and then walk away for a while to recoup. Monogamy was totally working for me. I had to think about the problem rather than avoid it. I had to try different options and step into the unknown*** with no guarantee it would work. I had to be brave. And tenacious. And all the other words you don’t get to be if you are busy running and being happy.

And I feel pretty proud. I’m thinking I might try monogamy again the next time I really want to achieve something difficult.

A week or so ago my monogamy finished (read: was tossed aside with joy) and I am yet to finish the sweater. But I didn’t start anything else until the hard part was done. All that is left to do is the steek and the bands. And they are purely technical. No hard decisions left. Just a requirement for a bit of time and space and light, which are currently in short supply as we are between countries and campsites. When it is done, I’ll get back to you with a little steeking post.

What monogamy was tossed aside for….

In the mean time – do you feel like telling me about how many projects you have on the go?  Or are you a one project kind of gal? Ever tried monogamy?

Felicia x 

* Hence why it is a useful thing to understand if you are about to give birth to a baby.

** I had actually just started one, that I then pulled out – only 3 inches or so – just so it couldn’t sing it’s siren song to me.

*** Indianna Jones style obviously.

Maybe it's not you - maybe it's the pattern?

This is a post for all you self-taught beginners out there. Just want to let you in on a little secret that some of us that have been around a bit longer understand, in the hope that it might save you some time and worry. 

Example 1:

In the comments the other week a newish knitter was trying very hard to get her short rows to work. She was ripping and ripping her swatch and trying to do it with some joy in her heart. But the joy was fading and frustration was setting in. She couldn’t get those pesky short rows to look good and not have holes. I answered her comment with a mix of encouragement (I hope) and a suggestion that she try Sunday short rows (which are totally awesome). She did and came back saying that she now had a perfect swatch and was off to start knitting. Yeah. Win for both of us.

Example 2:

A lovely friend who is a full-on get-sh#t-done kinda crafter was teaching herself to make a garment for herself. She was trying a fantastic intermediate pattern – the Washi dress and she did a sterling job. Her first efforts were getting compliment after compliment. And she looked tip top (partly cause she is naturally stunning – Hi JM x!). The thing was her facing was rolling. And didn’t sit right. All that work, all that get-sh#t-done-ness and she had a rolling facing. Which is fine. She still looks totally great. But there is a very simple technique called understitching, and while it is included as a suggestion in the pattern, it is suggested as (optional). So she didn’t do it and didn't understand that that was why her facing was rolling.

Example 3:

In the same week I got an email from another frustrated knitter that asked me to help decipher what this meant….

“Repeat these increases as follows, working each time 2 more stitches before the first and after the last raglan-style increase and two more stitches between the other raglan-style increase:
*twice every second row, once every 4th row * work three times from * to *, 16 times every second row.”

Now as I’m not local to this person, and I’m currently on the other side of the world with super limited wifi, and don’t know the pattern, there was little I could do for the poor woman but suggest she get on the Ravelry forums and ask someone who had made the pattern what the hell it all meant. Which she did and they did help and all was good.

In each one of my examples above the person was asking themselves whether it was them. "Why don't my short-rows work?", "Why is my facing rolling?" and "Why don't I understand the pattern?" and in each case it was a lack of background knowledge and sometimes a lack precise directions within the pattern. 

So here is what I want to say about all these examples – I want to say that sometimes when you find that you just can’t get something to work it isn’t you. It could be the instructions, or the pattern and sometimes the pattern makers. Some patterns are badly written. Some patterns are incomplete and some patterns were written for people who already know what they are doing.

Now this obviously isn’t true every time and obviously not every pattern can explain every single thing but hear me out.

I wrote recently about believing you can make stuff, and how important that was to the process of starting to craft. But the other big thing that I mention in the post is that once upon a time we would have learnt the techniques we would need to put the pattern together independently from the pattern instructions. We would have learnt our craft when we were young maybe from school, or family. And we would have known people who had the knowledge we needed to perfect our craft.

The beauty of under stitching.

In the ye-olden-days pattern makers didn’t have to provide detail on which precise technique to use or even how to perform techniques, as crafters already had that knowledge. And this was especially true of knitting patterns. They often just gave you the numbers. The pattern would say CO 180 stitches. But they wouldn’t say which cast-on to use. The decision on whether to do a cable cast on or long tail or tubular was up to you*. The pattern makers didn’t need to explain which to use. They assumed (possibly rightly) that the person doing the knitting would know which to use. For sewing patterns it was very similar. The pattern really only had to outline the order in which to construct the garment. They could use descriptions like "finish your seams" and the seamstress would use the finishing technique of her choice.

I believe that the world has changed. Many makers now are making without an old-school knowledge base. They are often self taught and many don’t know many other people that really craft. Now I love self taught – I am majority self taught myself. But self taught means that you learn as you go and you don’t necessarily get exposed to a range of techniques when you are learning. So you might have some holes in your knowledge base.

And while there are some amazing, thoughtful pattern makers out there, many pattern makers haven’t changed with the times. They are still making patterns for people that know their craft. 

It takes a lot to get started when you are trying to self teach yourself a new craft without support. It can seem a little overwhelming -  that you have so much to learn in order to do it to a level where you can make beautiful stuff.  And then when all that guts and effort gets rewarded by frustration when you get stuck, or you achieve a slightly less than terrific product, self-doubt can sometimes creeps in. People sometimes start thinking that it is them. That they just.can’t.do.it. OR that they are just.no.good.at.it.

Maybe that’s true - maybe you did get it wrong. But often, I truly don’t believe it is. Maybe the instructions are badly written, or poorly explained or missing bits or just plain rubbish or even just old school.

I don't want you to do self-doubt in your crafting as the default when you have a problem. It takes up time. Time that you could be spending doing something else - like fixing your problem.

In the first two of my examples above it was the little things that would have made a difference to the crafters in question. In number one – having the pattern suggest the type of short rows would have helped. In the second example – the instructions are amazing** except for this one part that says you should optionally understitch the neckline but doesn’t say why you would want to do this. So my friend ignored it. In the third example the instructions are just crappy.

The Seasons Hat by Brooklyn Tweed - an incredibly well written pattern.

Things to remember when you hit a problem

1. Consider that it might not be you!
2. Many pattern makers are old school and are writing for old school crafters. This is especially true of the old school sewing pattern brands. Their instructions are often pithy.
3. Some new pattern makers are just some person in their house in some suburb somewhere who has an idea for a project and writes a pattern. This is fantastic as everyone has to start somewhere but they may not be good at writing patterns. Obviously some new pattern makers are amazing naturals.
4. Some patterns are amazingly written but they can’t explain every detail of every technique so if you find something you aren’t sure about google away.
5. Avoid old-school vintage knitting and sewing patterns until you get your confidence and knowledge base up.
6. Remember that sometimes it will be you and that is OK too!

Some ideas to get you out of trouble

1. Make patterns from people that are known for writing good ones! Some new pattern makers are amazing and have thoughtfully constructed patterns which understand that their audience is coming to them with different backgrounds and different levels of knowledge. They include thoughtful descriptions and diagrams of how-to do XYZ that mean that you learn as you make. Win!! A good pattern can and will teach you things as you make it. Research the pattern maker online before you commit to one of their patterns.
2.  The internet and especially youtube is your friend. The other place that is often really good is the blogs of the different new independent knitting and sewing companies.
3. If you are making a pattern and run into trouble google your problem and the pattern name. There are often many others that are having the same issue as you.  

So for all of you frustrated beginner crafters out there I just want you to now also consider this as one of your options when you make a mistake. “It’s not me! – it’s them!”

I love a bit of a complete abdication of responsibility. Not sure this post is a life lesson ;). Or maybe it is?

Felicia x

* There is a vast difference between the three types in terms of their elasticity and their appropriateness for a given project.

**I have a copy of this pattern and it is incredibly well done as are all of Rae's patterns. You may know that I am a fan of a Geranium - another of her patterns.