yarn aesthetics

I did a bit of spring cleaning in my apartment recently. Swept out the ghosts of winter. Took stock. Rearranged. And in doing so, I was struck by how much my yarn and fiber and lace knitting has become a part of my home aesthetic here.


There's the still life on the bookshelf. Bones, antlers, sagebrush, photos of the West. But also balls of yarn and a darning egg.

On another shelf, there's a stack of antique books. Mostly gardening and naturalist books, with a charming 1923 Nature journal in there that I should show you some time. And at the top is my 19th century account book with the lace knitting patterns.


Then there's my white alpaca wedding shawl, draped softly over the kitchen doorway.


And all the rest of my shawls - four Storm Cloud Shawlettes, two Vermont shawls, an Aeolian shawl, my Cactus Wren Shawl, a Cedar Leaf Shawlette, and a couple of scarves -- draped on the coat rack on the front door.


The biggest discovery came from rearranging my stash by color. I brought this yarn and fiber in dribs and drabs from Phoenix over the year, and most of the time it's been a jumble on my bookshelf. But when rearranged, I suddenly realized that I was looking at a perfect representation of my color palette: earth tones, blue-greens, and a splash of crimson. When I look at my Ravelry projects, that pattern is striking, too. A real self-realization!


There's more ... the Shetland sheepskin rug from Charlotte's farm, and the lace blanket draped over a chair in the corner, and the photos of sheep from Rhinebeck framed on my wall ... but this is what was catching my eye this morning.