This is not something I really do–wax philosophical. In fact, I don’t think I really get philosophy. Whenever Mitch gives me something about philosophy to read I always feel that I barely understand. I blame my brain.
Last night we went to see Jason Moran at SFJazz (we went to the solo show, not this one) with friends. They suggested the outing, and although we hadn’t intended to go, we were game. Absolutely no idea who JM is before going, and no time/insufficient interest to find out. Mitch is pretty much in charge of music here and he rarely lets me down, so I just go with things he suggests. I listen to and love music, but I don’t keep up on the big musical picture. Likewise, Mitch eats and appreciates food, but doesn’t cook (although he will suggest a recipe sometimes! but then I have, over the years, discovered one or two musical gems). We split things up in the interests of getting things done and keeping our worlds as wide as possible. What does this have to do with philosophy or knitting? Hang in there.
So we’re at the concert, listening to JM play, and our seats are where we can see his [huge] hands rippling across the keyboards. Nice. I’m amazed at his skill. Play. Play. Play. He talks between numbers and this is actually where I become intrigued. He’s good, yeah, but I’m really interested in the fact that he’s thinking about what he does, and who has come before him, and about subcultures within a larger American culture, and how much work goes into finding your voice, and he also is reaching out to those coming behind him but he has been firmly lead by those who went before him. He plays a snippet of an artist (sorry, name escapes me) saying that artists should document their process so others can understand what they do. All of this starts brewing in my head and I eventually I ask myself if maybe I am an artist? I always think of myself as something short of an artist because my work doesn’t fit what I know to be artwork. Fashion isn’t really art, and knitting isn’t art, but as I think about what I do and how I get there, I begin to wonder if maybe I really am an artist.
Then I turn to thinking about the mistakes discovered in patterns this week. We try so hard, but you know they do happen. I always feel awful, but I no longer feel the pit-of-the-stomach awful I used to feel. Of course, the mistakes I do make aren’t quite as big as they were when I had less experience. I don’t expect perfection from anyone else, so I can’t expect it from myself. I know how frustrating it is when something doesn’t work though, especially if you can’t see an obvious math error or erroneous stitch. The last thing I want is for someone to abandon a project in frustration. So please ask me if there is something you don’t understand or doesn’t seem to be working. I will work out whether the problem is at my end or yours, and even help you get back on track if I can. I can’t always answer questions at the moment I get asked, but I’ll let you know how quickly I can get to it. If I really don’t have time, I’ll bring my tech editor in to do it.
To that end, I have also started a group on Ravelry where you can ask questions, work on a project with others, or whatever we decide to do. I’m not sure yet whether Ravelry is the best place for this, but I figure it is a place to start. If you want to let me know what works for you, you can leave a comment below, or take my survey, leave a comment on Facebook, or even email me (don’t tweet me, I don’t think I know my password to go read them).
Bummer news: I think I lost my Remarkables project. Along with a pair of Addi lace needles, and the Lantern Moon case it was in. I need to do some more looking, but I think it might be gone. But I need to put the final flourishes on my secret collaborative project this weekend, so I will be knitting!