Do you ever get stuck in start mode when beginning a new thing?
Like you’re wandering through a maze of ideas. Maybe it’s the planning stage, too many ideas, not enough organization? It’s weird. I feel such a rush when I have multiple WIPs on my needles. The satisfaction of binding off stitches and slipping that garment onto my body makes every week of work worth it!
The void though, between new idea and casting on a new project, is a shape shifting process. The indecision sets in.
What yarn should I use?
Do I have a color palette
Stockinette or a new stitch?
Texture?
Colorwork?
Do I have an inspriation garment in mind?
Have I thought about how I want to garment to fit?
How much positive or negative ease should I plan for?
The next phase is choosing needles, selecting the amount of yardage, and gauge swatching the stitches to inches ratio to calculate the size of the garment.
It feels as important to start with the correct amount of stitches as it does to pour a concrete foundation evenly. I think this is why I get stuck in neutral instead of shifting into gear – when you get a creative idea sometimes the final design outcome is a little fuzzy.
So how do I get out of it and move forward with my design? I sketch, even simply shading the colors together in simple patterns helps me see if the image in my head will fit the realized garment. I also start working with the room to frog the yarn and begin again.
That is my favorite thing about fiber art, you can tear out and begin again without ruining your materials. Even though the first stitches feel like concrete the process is flexible.
Do you get stuck in planning? How do you move your mind forward? Thanks for spending time with me today. You are amazing and I hope you know that you are loved. Until next time. ❤
Several months ago, I started a new side quest in knitting – making socks. It’s a windy and treacherous climb, fraught with new equipment and an entirely new approach from a garment like a sweater. At the beginning it’s like casting on a mitten or a small hat, yet as time goes on you realize you are somewhere between a knitter and a sculptor, looking for the heel shape in your amphorous block of yarn. It is the most challenging garment I’ve made, culminating in going over the waterfall, at least that’s what turning the heel felt like at times.
What makes this ubiquitous garment so hard to learn? It’s a project of multi-tasking, like dribbling a basketball and moving at the same time. You are not only knitting a pattern – a sock, but you are also learning it on a new court – double pointed needles or with a magic loop configuration on circular knitting needles. There is also the third option, the one I leaned on when I was baffled by hitting gauge on my project and fed up with ripping out my progress over and over, knit flat tube socks that are sewn together to form the tubular shape.
My first two completed sets of socks were made this way, with straight needles to help me process all I was learning from these new techniques. It was the confidence boost I needed to keep going and finish the sock. I get overwhelmed in new projects when nothing is familiar but taking one part, flat knitting, and keeping that as the control part of the experiment let me knit and see how it should look and feel when the socks are completed. To better understand what I was working towards on double pointed needles or circular needles. Flat knitting also gave me the chance to try something I’ve never done before as a knitter, I cast on two socks at a time on my needles. It was incredibly satisfying to finish each sock at the same time!
Attempt on DPNsFinshed tube socks pair knit at the same time on one set of straight needles
With this new found confidence I carried on and cast back onto the straight needles, making a brown pair of socks from recycled acrylic that wash and wear well. These green socks above are a blend that is mostly wool with a hint of acrylic in the yarn and they are hand wash or steam only for me. I wash them gently with either shampoo or conditioner in the sink, carefully to prevent felting. For my next project I wanted to explore fiber content, so I cast on a sock with three strands – two fingering weight wool and one acrylic. I chose this composition to test wear and washability, to make these a sock I could worry less about washing yet would insulate my foot, this was during a month long stretch of cold weather, dipping into the negatives fahrenheit so my mind was on cold weather. I decided to make these chunky socks into a sock I would use to insulate my L.L.Bean duck boots which are waterproof but are canvas, not insulated at all. They are a boot I want to wear for cold weather and snow, but they make my feet cold even with two pairs of socks.
As I got to the heel portion, I knit these socks cuff down, I made a last second decision and transfered my project to my round needles, joining the row into a round a stitches. With my heel turning reference book in hand I began turning that heel! It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be! I don’t think I executed it perfectly, but I conquered a fear. Now, the tough part of the process is that my handwork for circular knitting is subpar. I hold my stitches too tight and the tension hurts my fingers the longer I knit on a project. The only way to improve this is to keep practicing, yet I don’t want to practice. The second sock is cast on but I have yet to make progress on project because I am dreading the circular process and those tight stitches that come from inexperience.
Is this sock the best fitting sock I’ve ever made? Yes! Is it better than store bought ones? A 1000% yes, and I’m a novice so they are going to get better with practice. It’s an art form we wear everyday without thought, but it is truly a sculpture of yarn. Next time you put on a sock, have a moment of appreciation for the geometry, the symmetry, and the sculpture adorning your foot.