Ginkgo leaves are one of my tiny, secret happinesses. I love their graceful shape and the contrast of their glowing November yellow against grey skies, buildings, sidewalks. The last few days, they've been everywhere and I haven't been able to resist picking up a few and tucking them in the capacious pockets of my Great-Uncle Steve's army jacket every time I pass a drift. They're secured with sewing pins to the wall above my work table, like exotic beetle specimens laid out in a case, and for the few fleeting moments before they shrivel into dessication, they're glorious.
Speaking of my work table, it's covered in jewelry supplies these days because I AM READY to have that business up and running. The etsy site is set up, other than me posting that artist statement whozeewhatsis (which: HARD), I've scoped out some local shops to approach and I'm having a blast making stuff. I just need to photograph everything on a human, which is planned for this weekend, and I'll be ready to go.
One thing I've learned about myself over the years is that this time of year is a good for starting long-term projects. I lay dormant creatively when it's warm out and sort of think about what I would like to have going on in my life if only it weren't too hot to live. I mean, I guess I still do plenty of stuff, but it's only once the chill sets in that my head clears and my energy level surges and I'm motivated to actually make new stuff happen.
Also good about this time of year: wearing handknits. (I'm wearing this right now.) These are a couple of things I've worn recently that I knit a few years ago, probably in the 2003-2005 era, but it could have been earlier for each of them.
This is the Stone Walls Vest from Folk Knits, knit in my handspun Romney/something (alpaca maybe?)/glitz from Fantom Farm, which doesn't seem to have a web presence. I don't wear a lot of vests, but this book has some good ones.
And this is the Triangle Sweater from Interweave Knits, Fall 2000. This was a lot of fun to knit, as I recall, because you cast on at the lower edge of the back (I think) and work your way over the shoulders and down the front using short rows to make alternating triangles of stockinette and reverse stockinette. It sounds complicated, but isn't. I followed the directions blindly and ended up with a sweater. The yarn is some coned cashmere boucle I found in a dusty cardboard box under a table at School Products in 2002 or so. This sweater is incredibly comfortable, as huge cashmere sacks tend to be, but too warm to wear indoors very much. Since the heat hasn't been on at the office this week though, it came in really handy yesterday.