Saturday, May 30, 2009

I Knew I Could

I had a bit of a setback due to blithe disregard for forethought and the (apparently unfounded) confidence that the neck decreases would magically align with the raglan decreases, which of course they would not, at least not of their own accord.

So I ripped back to The Joining Of The Sleeves (last night) and now all is well with the world in terms of starting new knitting projects, which I assure you I will do Very Soon Now.
There's a part of me that really would like to finish this necklace before the next knitting project begins.
Problem is I think I want a different type of chain/rope for the other side, and I can't decide exactly what it is that I want, so this is as good a stopping point as any, I suppose.

Not that I don't like this chain; on the contrary, I really really do.
See? It kinda looks like a very twisted herringbone stitch, except some columns of beads stick out and some stick in, so in cross-section it's a triangle rather than a circle. And it's not herringbone stitch, not even slightly.

It's a variant of the African polygon stitches that Valerie Hector describes in her book, and that Diane Fitzgerald has in hers. Well, it is, but for the stitch counts (which I made up. See, I counted to two), which completely change the way it looks.

This is a variant with three beads per side; the green and grey one has two per side. 
As you can see (perhaps), the middle bead (the pink column) has its hole perpendicular to the rope while the first and third (and both beads in the first chain) lie parallel.

What I really like about this stitch is that the column of beads that stick out (the teeny little real actual pearls above, and the various green seeds above that) need only a single thread pass, so it's ideal for very tiny gemstones (which have even tinier holes) or pearls (which ditto).

I have some teeny tourmaline, and amethyst, and carnelian and perhaps some iolite just waiting.

Meanwhile my local bead store had its spring Bead Art day and I really scored.
I think the big beads were super-cheap because they're not quite evenly-shaped, but I have no idea why the leaves cost so little, as they look great to me. All I know is that I picked up five beads for the price of a single not terribly overpriced art glass bead that I might buy at a Real bead show. Perhaps from someone not yet famous.

I've had a table at this show a couple of times, and much as they call it Bead Art, it's really just a sale that people in the neighbourhood sorta support and see if they can pick up something cheap - or better yet, see what people are selling and then go into the bead store (the show is in the parking lot) and buy the beads themselves. 

The first time I was in the show, I sold enough stuff to make the heat rising off the asphalt tolerable (in retrospect); the second time wasn't quite as good, and subsequent times have just been grim (last year I sold one. pair. of. earrings), so what with the economy in the toilet, I didn't think it really worth the bother this year.

There were a few bead-weavers, Joan (something; I always forget her last name but she does fabulous work) and someone that I "know" (and I do really mean the quotes as I don't actually know this person - or at least I didn't before I introduced myself to her) from Etsy and perhaps one other, but truthfully most booths were very ugly strung pieces.

(Lest you wonder, I have high regard for those with an eye for balance and composition who manage to string necklaces that are lovely; that sort of work was not well-represented today.)

Guess I should really promote my etsy store if I want to sell beaded jewellery.


Laurie said...

You must be so thoroughly a process knitter, because I would have put the needles in my eyes if I had to do the ripping back and reworking that you take in stride.

Charlene said...

The funny thing is that I'm really not.

I'm all about the entire shebang, start to finish: idea to concept to vague plan to concrete plan to execution to product, and if I don't get stuck somewhere along the way, I backtrack until I'm at a point where I can realise the product.

Now of course "get stuck" is rather a vague term. It generally means "couldn't be bothered to recalculate or formulate a better plan", although occasionally it means "I'm sick of this sweater and would arther work on something else", thoughof course it's really not work, it's play.