I think the first thing I knitted was a copy of some pieces of a knitted Santa Claus that my mom had made for me. It was while playing with him after Christmas that he first caught my interest: about his beard and how it was made, and “Will you show me how, Mom?”
And so my passion for knitting was born – with a Santa Claus beard! It is impossible to understand why the passion lingers and develops after the first attempts full of knots and holes, not to mention the frustrations of knitting too tight and countless loose stitches. But for some of us, it gels and sticks like super glue, for which any dedicated knitter is forever grateful.
My knitting ‘career’ probably progressed relatively slowly, until our three children began to arrive and their needs accelerated my tissue production to previously unknown levels. And not only production had to be sped up, but completion times as well: kids do keep growing, often faster than you can predict.
Some years before our family expanded, at a time in my life when I had many quiet afternoon hours free, when we lived in the country, with little and often no television reception, I taught myself to knit. . I remember that it was a painstaking and extremely frustrating search, but I was determined. I had seen so many attractive and beautiful items produced by my mother in particular. At the time, we lived in another state in Australia, over a thousand miles away; otherwise my beloved mom would have been a very willing teacher.
The interesting result of my ‘self-taught from the books’ approach was that I knew all the stitch names and could read a pattern, whereas my mother could study an actual pattern and experiment and figure out how to duplicate it, without a pattern. reading skill. Together we make a formidable team… capable of solving many intricate ‘crochets’.
And so, life went on, as it does, and somewhere within the reach of refilling the empty nest after the ‘chicks’ had left it empty, I discovered the trinket… and a new passion. A friend was producing some exquisite creations in some of the oldest bead stitches known to man: ladder and brick and square stitch, peyote and ndebele… even the names are tricky!
Oh-hh, I really wanted to do this. I invested in some fantastic books on beading, to relearn on my own (after all, I mastered crocheting this way) and also learned many complex knitting pattern variations in the same way. And this time, my friend was there to physically demonstrate the intricacies to me. Don’t worry, I thought. Well… I thought wrong.
I tried. I really tried, over and over again. For some strange reason, I kept getting tied up in knots of deep frustration and aggravation with these beautiful beaded stitches. Just when I was feeling at my lowest point of creativity, my friend showed me a different beading project she was working on: a beaded brooch shaped like a tiny purse. Now here was something I could embrace, with my love of knitting.
Despite what can only be described as ‘anorectic’ knitting needles (imagine the thickness of a daring needle!) – and the questionable joys of stringing countless beads first onto regular cotton sewing thread – and then transferring them to yarn of actual accounts. Now there is only the questionable ‘joy’ of moving them along that thread for miles and miles! (well, that’s what it seemed like, especially at first). Despite all this necessary preparation before the first stitches could begin, he was hopelessly addicted.
In what has seemed alarmingly short (but, in fact, quite a few years now), my ‘stash’ of beads has grown to almost match my ‘stash’ of yarn (and note that that encompasses my beading thread stash, as well as my pre-existing ‘regular’ big guy knitting yarn hiding place…it’s a concern!). Fortunately, the beads take up less space than the thread. Well, they’re meant to… the problem is that their need to be seen and found AND separate from each other, requires them to be stored in a multitude of clear plastic containers. You guessed it, that’s where another ‘stash’ begins.
There are round stackable containers in various sizes; transparent plastic boxes containing 5 stacks of 5 joined containers; others made up of individual compartments with a single lid; and larger stackables for some of my really big wooden beads. All of these bins are now housed in an ex-library book carousel, making the practicality of locating and accessing them a joy, while also allowing for serious contemplation. That is a must for a dreamer like me.
My ‘stash’ is like a drop in the ocean when you think of the endless variety of bead shapes, sizes, colors and styles out there. And most of mine are man-made, plus some wood and metal, oh yeah, and some precious stones. It makes me dizzy trying to imagine how many varieties exist today, including those from the past, in museums and private collections.
The first project I undertook was a small ‘purse’ brooch like my friend’s, the only pattern I had available at the time. It was quite a challenge at first and progress seemed painfully slow for an experienced knitter. All that counting – of stitches and beads too – and constantly moving a large number of beads along the thread seemed SO tedious. The saving grace was the beauty of this beaded creation, and the realization that it was capable of producing such a treasure. As my learning curve progressed, many new perspectives opened up for me, as I explored and experimented with the extraordinary variety of beads and threads.
Skills previously unsuspected have been developed, such as creating my own graphic patterns for beadwork projects, and developing my own variations on more traditional themes. The tiny beaded woven ‘purse’ clasp has evolved into first an eyeglass case and then a mobile phone (or cell phone) case, key ring holder and USB clip identifier. And I make matching sets of all or any of these.
This craft brings great joy to the creator, but I must not fool you with a vision of ‘rose-tinted glasses’. In all honesty, there’s heartbreak, too…in fact, a lot of it! You wouldn’t want to know the vocabulary I use when I’m under the table, finding dropped beads… and you wouldn’t believe the possible rolling distance of some of these little creatures, and how many little seed beads can fit in the joints. polished floorboards I already told you about the joys of moving beads along the thread and how often it is necessary to do it. Can you imagine how many times large loops of beaded thread wrap around each other, in a strange ‘hug’? Devilish, I say.
It’s rare that I want to be at any other age or stage of my life, as I embrace the depths and strengths that experience has shaped. Goal – It is difficult to see how I can fulfill everything I dream and imagine. It can be both a blessing and a curse to have a ‘what if?’ so fertile. brain, constantly imagining something different or perhaps a variation on an old theme. It certainly is a major cause of my chronic insomnia.
To be honest, it’s just a curse until I take one more look at my creations, and then I’m sure I wouldn’t want my dreams or my abilities any other way.
Christina