One month till retreat time!

One month! Till we get to do it all again - and I can't wait. It is my favourite time of the year, watching everyone meet again or meet for the first time. The community and connection make it such a special space, I feel lucky to be part of it.

The next month will be a little busy for us - finalising what we need to finalise in order to make it the special weekend it is. But also this week we are going to release the Anna Maltz one day classes. I can confirm that we have classes organised in September for Melbourne, Country Victoria near Kyneton, Sydney and the Southern Highlands so far. So if you are interested in those then please join our mailing list. I'll send out all the details in the next few days and they will go on sale this weekend..... Yay!

As I'm sitting here listening to the pitter-patter of rain on the roof tonight, I'm updating the blog and feeling pretty bloody blessed. I'm adding the sponsor logos to the sidebar and feel so chuffed that the retreat is sponsored by such a gorgeous and generous group of businesses. All of these businesses value what we value - making and community - and I feel lucky that they make it so easy on me each and every year, supporting us to make the participants at the retreat (and readers of this here blog) feel that bit more special.

I would like to welcome back past sponsors Sunspun, Tessuti, the Fabric Store and Assemblage. And welcome Miss Matatabi, Stitch 56, Wool Days, Yulki's Home Decor, Maze and Vale and Circus Tonic Handmade. Truly big love and thanks to you all for your support!

One month to go my lovelies! I can't wait to welcome you back, or meet you for the first time. It is going to be super. And for all of you following along at home like last year we have a giveaway or two planned for you too! I know you will be with us in spirit.

Felicia x

I wish I could surf.

Over the last few weeks I've had something of a revelation. About surfing, and me not being able to surf, and about why that is. Even though since I was a small person, I've always wanted to try.

So there are reasons why I can't surf. Or so I tell myself. But mainly it's because I've never tried. How funny is that. The thing is that I think I've just understood why.

So let's get back to the reasons I tell myself.

For one, I grew up in the country and noone I knew surfed. We went camping at the beach for a holiday every few years, but our activities were restricted to swimming. Surfing wasn't even on the radar.

I always thought that it looked amazing. I loved the idea of the ocean. I loved the idea of sitting on a board on the ocean. The sun and the sparkle.

Surfing seemed to belong to the realm of what other people did. Other people. Other families. They did surfing. They looked like they belonged by the sea, and on a board. My family weren't what you would identify as sea people. We looked like country people, bush people.

Then there was other stuff. I wasn't a kid that loved sport at school. Always picked last for team sport,  my brothers used to say that when I ran I looked like a psychotic chicken. People that surfed were super fit, right? And strong. And that wasn't me either.

So a country person rather than sea, normal person rather than fit and sporty. And so I didn't really identify myself as being the kind of person who could be a surfer.

I still loved the idea of surfing though. I always thought "I wish I could".

Then I grew up, got a job, went to uni, got a job, went travelling, worked a little more before finally settling down in Melbourne. In that time I had time, and some disposable income, and the space to go and learn to surf, yet for some reason it didn't even cross my mind to make it happen. Whenever I saw surfing I'd think "I'd love to learn to surf. That looks like total joy." But the thought didn't ever go further than that. There was no next step. There was no action.

I've been wondering about why that is. There are many other things I've attempted to learn and understand in that time and I've just got on and done it. I've thought about whether I just didn't want it enough? Maybe I wanted the other things more?? But I don't think that's it. It's like the thought "I'd love surf" didn't actually ever have the "well I should go and learn" attached to it as a possibility and so it kind of just hung there.... in the air so to speak.

These days I live in Melbourne, in the suburbs, with three kids. I'm 42. I have chickens and I knit. I still don't look like a surfer ;). I also still don't do team sport. That said I am strong though. I exercise regularly and try to keep healthy. So I guess that's a step closer to being the kind of person who would surf?

So back to the revelation. A few weeks ago we went on holiday. And one of the things I did right before we left, in a fit of getting-ready-procrastination, was to download and watch a film called How to be Single. I liked it. It was funny. (Tiny mild spoiler alert if you are going to watch it!) Anyhow the central character has some emotional growth and learning, as you do, over the course of the film. At the end of the film, one of her realisations is that she is always talking about doing things without making it happen. She said it at the end of the film, something along the lines of "I talk wanting to do it but I don't actually do it." And then she does it. She takes action. She does.

A small bell rang in a corner of my mind. Hmm I thought. Am I doing that? Talking about doing things I want to do, rather than doing them?

Then we went on holiday to Noosa where the sun was shining, and there is a surf culture.

We were out at a restaurant one evening and I picked up a pretty magazine (as a way to be less involved in the hesaidshesaid going on) while we were waiting for our food. It was a beautiful surf magazine with all these totally stunning images by this Noosa photographer called Andy Staley. His photos of surfing are totally romantic. They have freedom and grace and sparkle. And again I'm sitting at dinner thinking "I wish I could surf."

I flip the page, and started reading the next article - all about women and surfing and why more don't do it. I flip another page and hit another article about this woman and her husband who took up surfing in the 60s or 70s in Noosa when they were in their 50s. She surfed into her 70s.

Again with the hmmm. Why have I never learnt to surf? I've always wanted to. I make stuff happen. Why not me?

Y'know those moments in your life when the universe decides that you need to learn something important. A couple of little things line up and wham. You learn a lesson that you can never unlearn and your world changes forever.

I had this simple thought - maybe who I think I am has held me back more than I realise?

I've been turning this around in my head over the last week and I've come to the conclusion that the ideas I held about the kind of person I was/am has fundamentally affected the choices I've made. In a way it feels like I'm stating the obvious - for example we know we are organised so we choose a job that involves organisation. Knowing things about ourselves is helpful, right?

But what happens if these ideas we have about ourselves are untrue? What happens if they are based on something tiny from when we were small or a random comment from a stranger. Often this stuff is so deeply buried in our subconscious that we may not even be aware of the impact it has on our decision making. What happens if these unconscious limitations we internally put on ourselves about our place in the world affect us in ways we aren't even aware of.

How often do we examine these "truths"? And rewrite our own story when we find mistaken beliefs?

For me, it's been 15 years since I've had the cash and the time to be able to learn to surf - if I had a mind to do it. I haven't though. And I haven't even really been aware that I was making a decision not to. Surfing wasn't even on the table as a possibility. Because I'm not the kind of person who surfs, or am I?

It took reading an article about a 50yr old woman learning to surf before I could identify myself as being someone who could learn to surf. And now it's back on the table.

So then the question becomes what the hell does this have to do with craft? Well. I was thinking about my I'm not creative post and how I truly believed with all my heart that I wasn't a creative person. And I got to wondering whether there were other places in my craft practice where I was hampered by these subconscious ideas of who I am. Whether it was bigger than just my creativity in general. Are there things that I'm not making, techniques I'm not trying, because of what I believe I am?

The answer is yes!

I want to do some improv patchwork piecing but I don't because I believe I'm not good with colour. I'm procrastinating on really getting into the wedding dress making because I believe that I am a bit slapdash and don't pay enough attention to detail. I could go on but you get the idea. In both those cases the things I believe have meant that I haven't even tried.

Geezus. Who knew?

So what do you think? Are you what you believe you are? Or are the things you believe about yourself limiting your life and your potential to make the things you want to make?

As always love to hear your thoughts on this one. I always learn something from you wise women.

Felicia x

Postscript: So late last week I was out to dinner with the lovely Claire when I mentioned not that I wanted to learn to surf but rather that I was going to learn to surf. Her reply - "I've always wanted to learn to surf. We should totally do it!" And so we are. Sometime in the next year or two (busy times ahead) we are going to schedule a week or so and head north. I, for one, can not wait!

A salute to the V

I realised the other day when I was looking at instagram that one of the cardigans I make most often is a V-neck called Go Buffalo. I rarely mention it because I've been making it so long it's lost the new and exciting feeling that would make me write about it. But that is what is so good about it - it is so simple and so sweet that I make it time and again. Because of it's less distinctive nature (unlike something like Granny's Favourite!) then it doesn't feature as much in photos - but in a way that makes it more wearable. A staple if you will.

So I guess what you need to know is that I love this pattern and I love the resulting cardies. Go Buffalo is simple, sweet, and emphasizes their little shoulders and stick like arms. Basically it's simply a top down raglan with nice proportions. It also lasts each kid for a long time as because it is DK then it is light so when it gets a little smaller and ends up having 3/4 sleeves then it works great over a frock for cool summer nights.

Now I've included quite a few pictures in this post however most of them are quick snaps from instagram. And that is because I don't seem to feel this cardy is as photo worthy as others I make. I couldn't find proper finished photo photos. Crazy because these are some of my all time favourite sweaters my kids own.

Modifications

Of course I modify it every single time. I've never actually made it as written but my modifications are simple. And I'll share them with you now.

1. The neckline.
I like a deeper V - a V that hits at the underarm level - and so instead of what's written I start by doing the neck increases every four rows rather than every two. I don't have a plan I just do them until it looks about right and then I switch to doing them every second row as written in the pattern. This gives a steeper slope initially near the neck, before switching to something closer to a 45degree angle when you get closer to the middle of the chest, about where the first button will go.

How I keep track of how many to increases to do is that I simply count the number of neckline increases in the pattern for the size I'm making and keep increasing until I have that many. As they are a kfb increase then they are easy to read but if you aren't sure then go to this post and it will show you what they look like. Generally I increase until I hit the underarm so that the V is inline with the breastbone. An extra increase or one less increase will not make any difference to your cardy. So don't stress too much.

2. The raglan increases.
Due to the fact that I muck up the row counts with what I do on the neckline then you need to make sure that you do the right number of raglan increases. I generally do this by increasing until I hit the stitch count for the sleeve OR I simply count the number I've done every few rows.

3. Garter Bands.
I love a garter band - especially when comparing it to a horizontal rib band. I think garter bands are tidier. But to make them tidy I decrease my needles size (normally to a 3.5mm from the 4.0mm of the body).

Another thing I do to make the sleeve and the body hem tidy (and sit in nicely) is that I also decrease the number of stitches on my last knit row before I start the garter band. Something like a [k6, k2tog] repeat works well. It doesn't matter whether this repeat fits into the number of stitches you have as noone will know but you. Make something up. 

A word about yarns.

The only other thing I'd say/recommend is that I've often made this out of Rowan Felted Tweed. Not a cool and groovy yarn by any stretch of the imagination but it is one of my all time favourites. It is a light DK which means that it has over 150m per 50g ball rather than the standard 100m per 50 of most DK yarns. This makes a lighter fabric which is nice for kidlets.

Also Felted Tweed seems to wear better than any other yarn I've ever used (I'll put Old Maiden Aunt Alpaca Silk and Shilasdair DK in this camp as well). It doesn't really pill, it survives a mild felting and looks great after years of wear. The other thing I love about it is that due to the tweedy nature of the yarn the fabric darns incredibly well. All of these sweaters have had holes put in them by enthusiastic kids in the playground. They have been repaired again and again without looking any worse for wear. You can't even see the darns and that isn't due to my skill. To be honest, I'm a bit of a slapdash darner.

Alrighty then - there you have it tigers. A great pattern that looks sweet and fits any given kid for years. A big V salute if you will.

Felicia x

Some one day workshops!

Exciting day! We are announcing our first ever one day workshops. We are very excited about them and thrilled to be able to offer them to you in September of this year.

The lovely and sensationally talented Anna Maltz is coming out to teach at The Craft Sessions retreat this year, and so we thought it would be a waste of her talents and her kindness if we didn't share her with you in a few other ways. So some one day workshops it is!!

For those of you who don't know much about Anna, you can check out her bio on our Teachers page. But to sum what you need to know, she is a good woman. She is a clever, courageous, inspirational knitwear designer who makes up her own techniques - like Marlisle which is so clever and the answer to many a knitting dilema. She also happens to kind, generous, funny and the sort of person anyone would be lucky to have a vino with. Which is why I asked her to come!

Anna Maltz will be teaching Advanced Colourwork and Marlisle!

We here at The Craft Sessions, want any workshops we hold, including our one-day-ers to have the "feel" of the The Craft Sessions' retreat, so they will include all the good stuff - great company, great food in a beautiful space with inspiring, encouraging and generous teaching. These one-day-ers won't just be a workshop where you come to learn some skills. They will be all about the community and the joy. Just how we like it.

I will be hosting the day and Anna will be running the workshop. Feel free to bring along any problem knitting you have as we will be having an informal knit clinic at lunch and lots of time to chat.

So far we have dates confirmed in Lauriston (Country Victoria) on September 10th and Melbourne on September 11th with dates coming for NSW and hopefully Tassie.

They will go on sale in a couple of weeks and if you are interested in hearing more details then please join our mailing list. I'll also give you a bit more info on this here blog.

So so excited to be doing this!

Felicia x

When you don't know what you don't know.

After my many years of making things, I still forget about this part of the process. That part of the ongoing learning of craft (and of life) where you realise yet again that you don't know what you don't know.

You thought you knew but you didn't. And you didn't even realise that there was a question you should be asking.

It can happen to you anytime, whether you are at the start of your crafting journey, or way down the track. And just this week it's happened to me.

So I've had a couple of dark-ish weeks. A combination of winter and busy meant that I got a little off-kilter, and when that happens I look for freedom in craft and so go off piste and start making random things without much planning. Sometimes this can lead to amazingness and sometimes it just leads to more of the off-kilter feeling.

This time around, I started a sweater that I was totally sure was going to be the business. I sketched out the colourwork, was super happy with my colours and my improvised pattern, and was hooning through the knitting....until.... it wasn't.

By this time I'd shifted the off-kilter feeling by doing all the things I needed to do. I stopped blogging, I got off social media, I did a bit of exercise, and a small amount of drinking (mainly with friends ;-) ) .... and at the end I was kind of left with a crafting hangover. My colourwork sweater didn't exactly turn out how I thought. I was thinking it would be amazing, but instead it kinda looked a little bleurgh.

I am not a one-craft specialist. I am a everything-ist, and as such I only learn about something like colourwork when I am actually making something that includes colourwork. When I do learn about it I don't get totally obsessive* and study every book ever written on a subject. I learn what I need to through the lens of the specific projects I want to tackle.

I thought this colourwork project was no big stretch for me. I've done quite a bit of colourwork - many things over many years. I've made some things I totally love from scratch. My thinking was "I've got this". I believed I knew what I needed to know to make it spectacular.

Turns out not so much. This yoke did not work. And the reason why it didn't work was not even on my radar.

In the planning of the sweater I had studied yoked sweaters to see what I liked. My post why all crafters need a visual diary talks about this. I did what I suggested in that post and studied the ones I had saved in my favourites on Ravelry to look for similarities. I knew that I didn't like it when white was a main background colour. It tends to make the yoke too stripey for me. I want a more integrated looking non-stripey yoke. I also knew that I liked a fairly limited palette with only 4/5 colours.

So I sketched out a plan. I used one of my favourite motifs and combined it with another simple stitch pattern. I like simple. My plan was simple. All good so far. I had colours I liked, a stitch pattern I liked and I was off.

A spot of freestyle knitting.

However, what I didn't know was that my past adventures in colourwork didn't prepare me for this type of yoke. Changing the background colour of a sweater is a tricky proposition. And my past adventures into colourwork have either

1. involved tweedy yarns which blur your colour changes so blocky stripes are less of an issue OR
2. they have involved sparse colourwork on a plain background which means you are only essentially working with one colour not two.

This yoke involved plain yarns (no tweed) and a changing background. The skills you need to make it work are different.

For example you need to really understand value and how visible your colour changes will be. You need to think about whether the pattern is sparse or blocky. You need to think about how to integrate your colour changes so that it doesn't look stripey - if stripey is not what you want. To get it to sing you need to get how this stuff all works. Not something I have done before.

What I sketched didn't work. It looked fine when I mocked it up in Excel but not in real life. The grey had the same effect the white background would have had and made it stripey because there wasn't another colour change for the foreground going on at the same time as the background. I realise this is a long complicated tangled explaination but the important bit is that I can see where I went wrong. I learnt something big.

My second major error was the inclusion of two strikingly different patterns. One was sparse - the VVV - and the other pattern was more solid blocks of colour. They simply looked odd together. And the sparser pattern didn't work really at all with a change in background. When I've used it in the past - and loved it - it has been a simple sweater with that single pattern and no background changes at all. Again I learnt something big.

So I ripped our the yoke without pain or grief or even a glass of wine. It was wrong and then it didn't exist.

There was a small bit of twitchiness around the fact that I had got it so wrong, while feeling that I had it so right. Because that is where the rub is, isn't it. When we are learning something new - especially when we don't realise we have something new to learn -  it's humbling. Even believing that mistakes are how you learn I think I have this feeling that one day if I keep practising that I will know it ALL. That this won't happen anymore. OR maybe I hold onto the idea that if I could just find the right book or website that I would hold all the knowledge there is.

But we can't. Because learning doesn't work like that. And that is where the true joy of an ongoing practice of making comes in. There will always be more to learn, more to understand. There will always be things we haven't thought of and new mistakes to make. That is part of the magic. We can never know exactly how a particular material will respond to a being shaped into a particular pattern. We guess, we plan, but really sometimes it's only in the making itself where we can see if our idea works.

We can only learn things slowly. We can't hurry the process. We can't gulp knowledge down and this is especially true as we practice the art of craft.

Bit by bit we inhale the learning like oxygen, one breath at a time. We need to breathe out before we can take the next bit in. The breathing out is the important part as it creates the space within our lungs to take the next breath. And it gives our body time to make use of the the oxygen it received; for that last breath to become part of our cells, changing us in some unseen way one tiny molecule at a time.

We are constantly learning as we make. That learning is changing us and how we look at the world. Slowly, and without us knowing it, it becomes part of us. And that is a wondrous thing.

To move forward I chose to go with a pattern I know would work from someone who already understands such things - Riddari. The result is clearly much much better. As for me - I'll try to chart out something for another sweater with my newfound knowledge on another day.

Happy crafting.

Felicia x

*don't laugh Tine, Jenn and Claire!