Lucky Number 7

Run, my friends, run for the hills for I am in a VERY SHITTY mood today. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Oh look! Look how pretty my Seraphim looks! Maybe two more rows since the last time you saw it? You’d think I did NOTHING to it, but au contraire mon petit amis. Au contraire. What you see here is the FOURTH start to this project. That’s right. FOUR FREAKING STARTS. Something wasn’t right about my original start to Seraphim. I started off with Addi US #5s and after a desperate call to my knitting sensei yesterday afternoon (I only caught about every third word of the conversation so I hope she told me to go up a needle size) I found a pair of 6s and started AGAIN with those. I was humming along, feeling okay, but not great and I talked to this one and she said, oh so flippantly, try 7s. I resisted for a bit but then pulled out a pair of #7s and started knitting from the other end of the ball. I went back and forth, back and forth between the 6s and 7s and there were more phone calls and Ann told me go for the fabric you like rather than the needle size. FORGET NEEDLE SIZE. It’s not the size of the needle but the drape of the fabric or some such double entendre that only a knitter who spent the afternoon watching The Libertine could think up.

Anyway. I started yet again on the 7s and damnit I liked the fabric. So much so I ripped out the start on the 6s and went to dig out a pair of 8s. At this point I didn’t really even want to knit the damn shawl anymore because when I want to start something I just want to freaking start it not try eighteen different needles. But I persevered. I tried the 8s. I knit and knit and in the end I didn’t like it. Lucky #7s it is. And if it doesn’t work out – fuck it. No Rhinebeck shawl for me.

See, I think something like this separates me from being a truly good knitter. I’m not patient enough with these things. I don’t want to swatch. I don’t want to do the homework necessary to get to the ultimate finishing spot. I’m not intuitive enough to change patterns on the sly, to intrinsically know what’s working and what’s not working. My skills as a knitter end with the knit and the purl. I can make some damn pretty stitches. But that’s about it. Otherwise I’m just following the crowd. That bothers me a little bit, but I’m not sure how to change it. For one, I hate math. HATE IT. And all this figuring things out on the sly shit is all about math. I’ll never like math. My brain gets all muddled and my head starts to hurt and I get frustrated and I don’t like to feel frustrated and then I stomp around and pout and whatever. Not worth it. Although it really is and I wish I was better about this stuff.

So I’m feeling kind of inadequate and down on myself and I take a break to read some blogs and the lovely Margaux pops up on the list with an update (did you know she’s going to her first Rhinebeck? YAY!) She links to Brooklyn Tweed. You probably already read him because seriously no one tells me anything – but OH MY GOD! It’d be one thing if he was just a fantastic knitter. I could handle that – I mean we’re all fantastic knitters in our own way and some of us are more fantastic than others, but that’s not a big deal. (Although I started out feeling a little bad about my knitting.) And it would STILL be acceptable that he picked up a copy of the EZ classic Knitting Without Tears without knowing that it was freaking signed by EZ herself. BUT the photographs. My god the photographs. All of you people that come here for the pictures – forget it. Go there instead. I give up.

How’s that for self-pity?

Jealousy sucks but I happen to believe it’s as common as breathing. If I’ve learned anything from the envy I’ve felt as I took in someone else’s breathtaking photograph or genius short story or fantastically knit sweater or perfectly spun yarn, it’s that for everyone who’s better than me at something, there’s equally someone who’s not as good a photographer, writer, knitter, spinner as me. I’m just in the middle. And sometimes, to my perfectionist soul that god help me wants to be the BEST at everything – damn that feels pretty shitty.

Yeah. You all have a good day too. 😉

Comments

  1. are you sure it’s not the weather that’s got you down? 🙂 it’s the perfect day to sit around in your PJs, knit, and watch movies. i wish i were at home right now! the commute this morning sucked. ah, NYC. how i love thee!

  2. caraaaaa! girl, i feel you… i have those days where i totally feel inadequate with knitting, blah photoraphy (even with my blog!)… what you need is a huge HUG! (i give good ones!) 😉 Thanks for putting me in your post, I feel HONORED to be mentioned. I too agree, though, it might be the rain! LOVE YOU!

  3. Well, Cara, maybe you feel you’re not at the top of the heap, but let me tell you Girl, you are sooooo much better than I am when it comes to writing (your piece on New Orleans? Yes, I was SOBBING and blowing my nose with the bottom of my huge t-shirt!) and photography. So yes, sometimes our eye spots someone who has another twist, another perspective, another way, that does not nullify what we do….Keep writing, keep doing photography, keep being spontaneous in your knitting, it’s you!
    And life is too short (check what happened in Montréal yesterday) and too precious to waste a perfectly good day…. Pick up those number 7’s and knit away!!!!!

  4. how does the song go?
    Blame it on the rain (rain)
    Blame it on the stars (stars)
    Whatever you do don’t put the blame on you
    Blame it on the rain yeah yeah
    You can blame it on the rain
    but wait, they (milli vanilli)didn’t sing that either….

  5. You`re right, the “perfectly spun yarn” person is truely worthy of being hated for her perfectly spun yarn. Lets just hope she has ugly feet or something, ok?

  6. Someone once told me that “perfection” is just another limit… it implies a place that is achieved with nothing beyond that place….. yuck.boring.
    perhaps instead we can all just be life-long-learners? so… no more insulting yourself gal.. there’s a bunch of us out here who enjoy your photos and your knitting.. rock on.

  7. There must be something in the air, because I’ve been in a pretty shitty mood for about 3 days. If I’m alone and knitting (or eating – bad) I’m okay, but as soon as someone talks to me it grates on me. Something in the air, perhaps?
    I like the colour of your shawl. I hope the 7s work out exactly how you want it to be.

  8. Well go visit my site – my recent photos suck! That ought to make you feel better. 🙂
    I know what you mean about knitting & math. I feel like the math=head exploding thing is the one thing that is holding my knitting back at this point. So I am trying to invent a way to forget that there is any math in knitting. (Why actually learn how to do the math right?) I’ll let you know if I can work that out!

  9. Exxxxxxcccccuuuuuuuuuusssseee me!!
    hello goddess of the log cabin blanket. Of putting colors together in a way I would not think. Of organizing an event that raised a shit load of money. If only…Oh and don’t forget the knee highs … If only I had the patience to knit them, let alone that they would look good on me!
    As for all the other stuff. *big hugs* … chin up, knit the shawl with your own beautiful handspun (hey if you don’t want it i’ll gladly take it off your hands. Promise. I mean, I wouldn’t want you to have some yarn hanging around that upset you *g*) and get that shawl done!
    (so i can see more log cabins *g* I know I know I’m a pain in the arse)

  10. Just focus on your progress and what you learn, not where you’re at today in your knitting. You knit a few more stitches, you learn a bit more, and you become a better knitter 🙂 Have fun with it for goodness sake!
    Oh, and everyone enjoys different aspects of knitting. Some enjoy the math and the configuring, others enjoy the end product, and still others enjoy stitch after stitch after stitch… Take advantage of those who do like the math, and just roll with it. Nothing says that you have to be every kind of knitter.

  11. I like your yarn photos better, honestly. I get a much better idea of what the knit looks like.
    I’m glad you found your lucky number for the shawl. I hope you have a much better day today, despite the rain! 🙂

  12. Hellooooo? Do I need to remind you of your DFS with the beads? Dude, that thing was gorgeous and you figured out the beads and it was your idea alone. Don’t tell me you’re not a fabulous knitter.
    And knitting with handspun is a crap shoot to begin with. It would have been a miracle to get the right needle size the first time around on the shawl.
    As for Rhinebeck, it’s my first time, too. Wheee!

  13. Who was it who, just last week (or was it the week before? people just get uglier, and I have no sense of time) gave an explanation of the toe-up gusset heel, complete with her own on-the-fly modifications, that made my head pound halfway through the first sentence? OK, so you had help, but still. I do not want to hear it.
    Oh, and I still have not managed to seam my Olympic sweater, the one that was supposed to get me over my sweaterphobia. I finished the first sleeve seam, and it is a paragon of wonkitude. So just let me know if you wanna go halvsies on a nice big plate of worms. Otherwise, my attitude can beat up your attitude.

  14. SO, you just have to accept that you are perfection in the technical execution of the stitches. Not everyone can be a designer (cuz who would knit other people’s patterns?)
    And for those people that make you feel bad, when you’re at their house and they’re not looking, you slip a couple of stitches off their needles, unravel them a little, and put the knitting down again. There.
    What? I didn’t say anything.

  15. I consider myself an advanced intermediate knitter…as long as I don’t have to think to much in the process. The fact that you changed needle sizes more than once in order to achieve the fabric you wanted would never have even occured to me! I want to be able to just follow the pattern. You, on the other hand, are creative with your knitting, able to think beyond the pattern. Don’t sell yourself short!

  16. WTF!? You wear self pity poorly. We all know you are a fabulous knitter and your pictures are some of the best around. Look at DFS with beads, all your very fun and cool socks and Short Rows, too. Teyani said it very well…listen to her. If you’re a slacker…well, I may as well jump off a bridge and be done with it.

  17. Cara,
    LISTEN to the fantastic advice your friend, Ann, gave. FORGET about the frickin needle size and LOOK at the knitted fabric in front of you. You’re making a shawl – Is is soft and inviting? Will it drape over your shoulders or hang like a board? Are the stitches too tight, which even if you spun it soft and inviting, would make for a brick of a fabric. Yahdah, Yahdah… Cara, a spinner doesn’t have time NOT to swatch. Make a frickin tiny one, just so you can see how it knits up. That way you won’t have to keep frogging a gazillion stitches.

  18. I’m not normally one who comments on blogs, but I have to say, your description of the frustration of trying to a ‘good’ knitter is right on. I have the same issues: I’m not good at math, I’m not the sort of person who can knit something and make it up as I go along, either. I don’t think that makes anyone less of a knitter, though. Then again, I still find it a bit amazing that by following a pattern, I can make a piece of clothing out of some sticks and string.

  19. Anyone who says they love swatching and starting the same damn thing over and over and overandoverandover, frickin’ umpty-bazillion needle sizes and frayed yarn and the hair being pulled out of their heads and unintentionally knitted in and messing up the gauge even more… yeah, well, they’re liars. Big fat freakin’ liars.
    And all the rest, too. You’re the best. ; )

  20. I don’t know if it means much to ya at all, me being just a tiny blip on the bloggy radar screen and all, but I admire you, Cara. I think the socks you knit are just beautiful, your spinning is really nice, and your pictures are downright breathtaking. You are an inspiration to me. I love reading your blog, your sense of humor is great, and I enjoy it even on the days you are feeling snarky. 🙂
    I know how it feels to want to be the BEST at everything, and there was a time in my life I (gasp) actually thought I was….
    Then I got married. (tee hee) and realized I’m not really all that great at much, ha ha. (I was given a good dose of humble pie!) I found out that there’s always someone better than me in something. But yet there are some who can learn from me. Like what you said about being in the middle. I can totally identify with that! Even though you are seeing some whom you think are better/more advanced, etc. than you, You are definitely better than I, so I look up to you! I love to learn new things from your blog!
    Have a great day. (hope my post wasn’t too sappy! :))
    (((hugs)))

  21. Just think – you COULD have made a couple of swatches, trying to find the right “feel” and drape, and then started knitting and found that the swatches weren’t big enough to “tell” you what you needed to know.
    If you think of your knitting like a standardized test (I know you’re groaning – too much like math!!) then I’m sure you’re somewhere around the 99% percentile (’cause NOBODY get’s to be the 100th) and I’m somewhere maybe around the 40th. There may be someone who “scored” better than you who’s still at the 99th percentile BUT they’re certainly not enough better for you to feel bad about!!! It’s just gotta’ be the rain!!!!!!!!!

  22. Yeah. That’s a hard one. To know that you’re good, and then to be not quite good enough for your own standards. I think it’s about acceptance and learning to love what you are. Flaws and all.
    You could think of how sometimes an imperfection makes the thing even more valuable.

  23. Hey Cara, artistic people–like you–may not be good at the math stuff, but you have incredible vision and passion. And that feels like a roller coaster. When you are up, you’re the uppest. When you’re down, you’re the downest. But there’s only one you, and you are perfect at that. And we’re glad.

  24. It’s probably the rain and the shortening days. You’re a phenomenal photographer and a great knitter. The guy at Brooklyn Tweed does take fantastic photos of his knitting projects, but I’ve gone to your nature photos web site and your photos just blow me away. I love what you choose for your subject matter and your sense of composition. There’s room in the world for both you and Brooklyn Tweed to be great knitters and photographers. You have a unique eye and all your photos show your style. Just go with it! And screw the math. I’m a scientist; I do math all day. But I have a hell of a time being able to tell if something I’m knitting is coming out the way I will want it to be in the end. I have 2 over half done sweaters, and it took me that long to realize that, although I’ve knit them properly, they are going to look awful on me. I picked a horrible style in each case for my build. But I calculated the gauge perfectly. Bribe someone else to help with your math and concentrate on your exquisite knitting and style.

  25. Delurking here to say: Cara, cara, cara…. practically every sweater pattern out there has multi-sizing info. And why? Because so many of us are not very good at adjusting things on the sly. And math? I happen to be good at math but I’m reknitting the body of the sweater I’m making for my daugthter for the third time because I can’t get the size right.
    And you jump in without swatching? why? because you are an enthusiastic, energetic person. This shows through in your blog and is one of the reason I read your blog. It is fresh and energetic and honest.
    Yup, I read the blog from the guy in Brooklyn and he takes nice photos. But I love your photos. And the way the photo changes at the top of your blog every time I check your blog for an update makes me happy.
    It is time for you to take inventory of the wonderful things about yourself. They are there.

  26. Cara, I’m with you on the math. I absolutely HATE it! Makes me crazy, actually. It takes all the whimsical joy out of what I’m doing and crashes me down hard to Planet Earth and the realities of exactitude. Even though you’re in a killer bad mood, I enjoyed reading your blog entry. I swear it took me half an hour, because in between I was checking out the links and bookmarking them. You have a great network of friends.

  27. Amen, Sister! I’m the exact same way. I’m pretty good at a bunch of different stuff, but I’m not super good at any one thing. And that’s what I want. To be the best. But then again, I’m not driven enough to become the best because I’m so interested in exploring all those other things I’m pretty good at it. Ah, the conundrum.

  28. I understand.

  29. I know it’s cheesy-cheesiness, but you are the best January One.
    And, if only the people who were best at something did it, there would be no home baked bread for the feet for most of us or pictures in blogland.
    Just saying.

  30. knitting with handspun is so different from knitting with commercial yarn. i often find my gauge in it is skewed—no the right row/stitch proportion for most commercial patterns (and i am a very good spinner—it’s mostly to do with the poofiness of handspun). i save it mostly for projects that i design myself. it just works better if you go along with IT rather than make it go along with the crowd.
    as far as swatching and all that—i dunno, i always liked it. i think of it as a separate thing from the knitting of the garment, an exploration of its own, like taking 20 shots to get one picture. just to see the yarn and needles perform in different ways interests me. sometimes it’s good to separate it completely. so, when you finish spinning something you love, knit up a swatch and find a needle that makes a good fabric. then mark it and keep it for when you are ready to use it in a project. it will give you a headstart on cutting to the cahse.

  31. those pictures! god, i am so there with you on the whole middle thing…..thanks for the link so I can be inspired on a good day or depressed on a bad one…you know what i mean…

  32. There seems to be alot of blah around blogland today. Hope you’re doing better soon. Seraphim is gorgeous so your hard work has paid off!

  33. As others have pointed out, you haven’t even mentioned some of your truly great gifts, such as generating enthusiasm among other people, organizing events and knitalongs, writing in a warm and open way that invites others to relate to you, and on and on. Funny how we often don’t recognize our true strengths. Oh, and swatching? It’s really much easier to do a stockinette swatch and figure out the damned needle size than to start a project 16 times. It’s a fact of knitting, and you’ve just gotta go with it. Besides, once that shawl is rolling, it will all be a dim memory!

  34. Ha. Hahaha. HAHAHAHHAHA! Whatever, dude! You take some of the best pictures of knitterly and non-knitterly things that I have ever seen. You make it look easy, too. So then I pick up my D70s and say to myself – “I got the goods. I can do that.” The problem is that I only know who to use it on auto. AUTO! I, my dear, am the one who sucks. If I can somehow squeeze a 25 hour out of the day, I’ll take photography classes.

  35. Cara- No dear, you reign with your photo’s. Reign. And your writing is great, heart is big. I don’t understand math, can’t figure it out and do not do my own thing but like what I am able to accomplish. Maybe your trip and the rain, then the friggin needles just finished you off.
    Been there. Wish I had your talent. We all have our special gifts and you have more than you are giving yourself credit for. Don’t sell yourself short. Be mad, do what must be done and it will all work out.
    Sending sunshine and hugs,
    Shelley

  36. I hate it when people say, “X means that I will never be a good knitter.” You are a fabulous knitter. I know people who started off knitting a scarf in a pattern and immediately progressed to designing their own sweaters. I have a friend who produces the most perfect and complicated garments imaginable but can not knit squat without a pattern that outlines every detail. They are both “good” knitters. Everyone has their own style and EZ is nothing like Alice Starmore and Alice Starmore probably loathes everything EZ stands for, but they are both “good”. I hate to swatch and sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t and sometimes it bites me, but I don’t think of it as something that makes me a “bad” knitter. Just an incautious one ;>

  37. Damn girl, you need chocolate! And a glass of wine. That should make you feel all better…

  38. Cara, I usually lurk here, but I had to leave the cave just to say that your blog post could have been written by me. I often have these moments of self-doubt, the ongoing, “Am I a Knitter-Capital-K or just a knitter?” conversation. Sometimes blogland is so inspirational — your DFS shawl made me want to try lace — but sometimes it can be just another opportunity for a crisis in self-esteem.
    Try not to be so hard on yourself.

  39. I’m sorry you’re having a bad day!
    It’s silly for me to try to talk you out of the mood, because we don’t know each other at all, but I wanted to say this about the photography: It’s true that you don’t do the wide angle, tiny depth of field pictures of yarn and handknits that brooklyntweed does. It’s true also that he does them exceptionally well.
    But! It’s also true that he doesn’t do the portraits of children that make you feel as though you’ve known them for years and could write fairy-tales about their lives. Nor does he photograph flowers as though they are nature’s greatest work of art. And it’s also also true that you do those things, and do them exceptionally well.
    Sure, your styles are different, and his stuff is worth admiring. But you were the one who inspired me to get an SLR and try to capture my own child, not him, and so I wanted to offer this gentle reminder that some of us, at least, are glad you’re still taking pictures.

  40. Some excellent knitters make perfect swatches that can later be assembled into blankets, but they can’t deviate from a pattern. Some excellent knitters can change patterns on the fly and create something new the world has never seen, but they can’t bring themselves to swatch and have WIP piles big enough to eat the dog. Some excellent knitters take beautiful things (log cabin blankets & socks that rock yarn) and show the rest of us regular old knitters what beauty we haven’t discovered yet. I wouldn’t change you for the world.

  41. funny you should say that, because i’ve always been a big fan of your photos….. 😉

  42. hey now. I come I am referred to as this one and freakin’ Margene gets the title Knitting Sensai??!! how about oracle? I like the sound of that. Yes, I think that will do nicely – try it out …. doesn’t it just roll off your tongue? Try typing it – this one, this oracle……

  43. Cara, YOU ROCK!
    Yes, I felt the same as you after I linked to BT (he ROCKS, too!), but after reading (and rereading) your blog for the past year I’ve already come to terms with my “middleness.” Really. What I knit, I knit really well. I’m happy and impressed with my product and so are the giftees. However, the process is not easy for me. Picking patterns, god forbid modifying patterns, picking yarn, determining gauge (must I swatch!?), ripping, ripping, ripping, FINISHING the DAMN thing… So many decisions and I constantly second guess myself, especially when I see all the lovely work out there in blogland. It’s so hard to be a perfectionist and not BE PERFECT!
    What I really want to say, though, is that at the end of the day, your blog is the one I go to first for inspiration. You connect with people on many levels – your knitting and your knitting attitude (I still haven’t managed to knit myself a pair of socks!), your photos, your writing, your deeds, your bad language ;-). I’ll be checking out BT’s blog, but not too often, ’cause he’s “too perfect” (sorry BT!). You are ABSOLUTELY FABULOUS in all that you do (I turn green many times while reading your blog), but you are also accessible to us lesser mortals who don’t accomplish nearly as much in our lives. You let us see your darker side and you make us laugh. Many thanks from a great admirer.
    Oh, AND you’ve turned me on to Bruce. Need I say more?
    I think I really dug her ’cause I was too loose to fake
    I said, “I’m hurt.” She said, “Honey let me heal it”.
    And we danced all night to a soul fairy band
    and she kissed me just right like only a lonely angel can

  44. You know what I like about you? Your honesty. I think it’s great the way you get real, and voice things that we all feel from time to time. I like the pictures, and the knitting is good too – but it’s your WRITING that brings me back every day.
    Joining you in spitting on math.

  45. If it helps any, I’m completely jealous of your picture taking abilities and knitting and writing. You rock. Seriously.

  46. you need to breathe, relax, and read something i found from Nelson Mandela…
    Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
    Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
    It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
    We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?
    Actually, who are you not to be?
    You are a child of god.
    Your playing small doesn’t serve the world.
    There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people will not feel insecure around you.
    We are born to manifest the glory of god that is within us.
    It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone.
    And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same.
    As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
    you know?

  47. oh, and if you are referring to “teacher” in japanese, it’s “sensei.” if you were referring to someone who is your senior, as in superior at work or school (position-wise, i guess), it would be “senpai.” not to be nit-picky or anything. :\

  48. What they said. I have the heebie jeebies every day about my writing compared to others, and that first pattern stitch in the Wing o’the Moth shawl, the fir godsake or whatever it is, is supposed to be easy to memorise. Yeah, so easy to memorise I’ve had to tink kidsilk haze SIX times. AAArgh. And I freaking love your pictures. Some days I just sit here refreshing the page to watch the header change. Not to be a freaky stalker or anything. Ahem.

  49. Delurking for this one – Cara, don’t beat yourself up. It must be the rain. You are an extremely talented photographer and knitter, as others have said, don’t marginalize your talents! I love your nature shots, and your photos of children. They’re gorgeous. Your knittng is beautiful. Don’t mind the math, that’s why there are programs like Math Wizard to do the calculating for you. You get to do the fun stuff – the knitting.

  50. Compared to you my knitting sucks. Also I don’t know how to spin. But I love my sucky-compared-to-you knitting. I get mad and frustrated and I can’t do math and I rip stuff out, and punish the yarn by putting it in a bag and sticking it in the evil basket for a months long time out (there’s a half finished sweater that’s been in time-out for 7 months) In the 2 years I’ve been knitting I have gotten better and better the more I knit. I am actually wearing a shrug I knit. This morning a woman sitting next to me on my NJ transit train saw me knitting on my sock and asked if I knit the shrug too. I told her yes and she said it’s georgeous. A regular on that train saw me when I first got on and yelled out, “you finished it, it looks great!” I felt so good (and I suck). Feel better. Only 36 days til Rhinebeck!!

  51. Glad that venting/pity pot was helpful.
    I’d been doing the same (and NOT blogging much as a result… nothing like isolation to keep you in your rut, you know?) I’ve even gone out and found a therapist who’s coaching me to be less hard on myself. I’m hoping that lightening up will help me lighten up. Best to you.

  52. Oh wow, he knits! And he’s straight! Hubba hubba!
    But Cara I still love you!