It turns out that if you want to be a knitter, or in any case, a knitter who shares what they're up to with anybody else, you had better also become a photographer. Not that I had any clue about that when I went public, or I probably would have contemplated it a bit longer. Nevertheless, here I am with a bunch of stuff to report on, and no pix to show you. Why no pix, you may ask? Because one wee drawback of being a knitter who publishes work is the fact that I'm supposed to (usually) keep my work under wraps until it's available for your use/enjoyment. Why, I'm not fully sure, but I think it's mostly to preserve the surprise. You are (so the theory goes) less likely to dash out and snap up my latest books and patterns if you have already seen them in gruesome detail for the whole time I'm developing them. Makes sense, I suppose. Who wants to buy a pattern once you've endured photos of me frogging it nine times? Still, the issue does make for bland blog posts sometimes; notably the busier I am making things, the less likely you are to see engaging photos of works in progress.
Here is what I learned this week about photos of knitting:
1. You cannot photograph Dark Purple knitting in any room of my house. The photos are all overexposed, underexposed, too yellow, too blue, too close or too far away. If you want a decent shot of Dark Purple knitting, you have to go outside on a nice sunny day.
2. It rains in Portland, Oregon, every single day.
3. If it has stopped raining in Portland, Oregon, then one of the following must apply:
a. It's the middle of the night
b. It's the weekend and I'm in a windowless arena observing my children's athletic activities.
c. It's the Rapture
So while I have a swell purple vest, and an equally inspiring gray sleeve to show you, they are on the QT for now. Be patient with me - I really am up to something good.