finished, and not

and so i've come mostly to completion on the first of the capes, tentatively called either the laurel or the daphne prototype*. i used the same yarn i used for my new leaf afghan, the pale green cotton. i had a fine time modifying the pattern, as it's not one that instinctively works with increases and slight shaping.
this cape project has been one that tests my innovative abilities, especially regarding the numbers of crochet. however, i've found that i do ever so much better with it when i go at it intuitively, instead of sticking with the strict numbers. i understand the math, logically speaking, on paper, but math does better with pencil and paper than it does with hook and yarn.
i'm already working on a second one, with a shell pattern. it's in a pink that's somewhere between fruity and bubblegum, and i'm using the shell pattern in recognition of my influence for that particular piece; aphrodite.

this project is so fun because i'm playing with ideas that i've loved for a long time, and combining them with something new to me. i haven't made a lot of garments beyond very basic shawls- and there's nothing wrong with those shawls; their simplicity makes them really beautiful and wearable to me. however, cape, just the concept is ever so much cooler. i fear that when people see "shawl" they immediately think that it's for one specific age group, and i don't think that's the case at all. i hate for style to be pigeonholed to any particular decade or time of a person's life (besides onesies, of course) . but the theoretical influence is totally mythology and literature-based. the same woman, my great grandmother, who taught me to crochet at the very beginning also incubated in me an appreciation for old stories; poetry and histories. she was a devotee of the tragic story of the love life of henry the VIII- more tragic for his wives than him, i suppose. she was firmly in anne boelyn's corner; i have to wonder what book in her youth in the nineteen-teens inspired her love for that story. she made certain that i read her old copy of robert louis stevenson's a child's book of verse frequently, and i've still got most of "twas the night before christmas" memorized due to our recitations. that passion ignited, someone, a particular aunt i think, gave me d'auliare's book of greek myths. i read it so often that the spine is a faint memory, and it was one of the books i never marked my place in by turning down the corner of the page. (no, it had a special bookmark, as i remember, a lovely piece of embroidered ribbon with a shiny brass unicorn at the top). it went on many a road trip with me, despite its large size, and the illustrations weren't michael hague or kinuko craft, but they still filled my head with ideas about sturdy, larger than life gods and the mortals under their influences.

so the first cape, with the leafy pattern is tenatively either laurel or daphne. daphne was the daughter of a river god, fated to never fall in love (cursed by a lead tipped arrow of eros', perhaps) and though the beautiful god apollo loved her and pursued her, she was determined never to wed. at one point, apollo's pursuit of her was an acutal chase on foot and when she reached the banks of her father river, she implored him to save her. having little power in comparison to apollo, daphne's father was able to help her, but at the price of losing his daughter. her toes sunk into his sandy banks, her arms reached out as branches and her hair turned into the flickering leaves of the laurel tree. from then on, the laurel has been sacred to apollo, and is the crown of leaves with which victors were honored in ancient games of skill, might, or intellect.

this was an interesting story on which to meditate while crafting the piece, and i anticipate finding the buttons that will truly finish the cape.

a new leaf

the pattern that i'm enjoying working on most right now is the one i call the leaf in my head. it's in a pale green and i'm working up my cape prototype. i've worked with this stitch pattern before, and it's so relaxing and rhythmic to my hands and mind that it's a good meditation to work on.

and i do need to work on my meditation. which is a laugh; meditation is supposed to be non-work, but it's coming so difficult to me. this is one place i do try not to self judge, but there i was, doing so just now.

but i've caught an upswing, it happens this time of year, frequently, coincident with spring and my birthday. i'm not a religious person, but i do celebrate my birthday with a festival amount of energy and happiness. this isn't really a terribly egotistical thing as might be supposed, it's simply to celebrate my own arrival, to give gratitude for the moment of my emergence into this world. (and as always, a moment of gratitude for my mother, as i squirm a bit for her.) it's a convenience, easier than celebrating the day that i first deciphered words via reading or began to communicate myself to the rest of the world in spoken or written words.

i was gifted with a trip to breitenbush hot springs, which is a retreat as well as the spring tubs and found it incredible. the literature and people of the place communicate a desire to provide an atmosphere of renewal and respect and sanctity. a community environment, but minus the loudness generally present in places like rivers and beaches.
it was spring or summer in the pools, and winter, with snow on the trees on the mountains across the river from us. and the noisy river, working hard on its work to make it to the pacific, i think. or to make it somewhere, and breaking down the big rocks into smaller ones, making stones, then pebbles, then sand.

i happily take this chance to turn a leaf, and to embrace all the crawly critters that have taken up habitation underneath.