Steeks!

I’ve just returned from a lovely weekend in Dublin, where I was teaching a workshop at one of my very favourite yarny places, This is Knit. The shop has recently moved into new premises in the Powerscourt centre.

I always feel welcome at This is Knit.

Upstairs, on the mezzanine, there is a great teaching space. I gave a short presentation . . .

. . .and we all got down to work.


At cutting time, silence descended. . .


Ta-Da!

We then made neat facings for our steeks, using a method which I have called the “steek sandwich.” This simple technique features on a couple of my forthcoming designs, one of which will be released toward the the end of this month.

I enjoyed the workshop tremendously, which was really something of a relief. It was my first teaching experience since January 2010 (the last class I taught was, in very different circumstances, on this day). Shortly afterward, I had my stroke, and the rest you know.

I realise I’ve not been talking so much about my health of late. This is not because I suddenly feel better, or anything, but somehow, for whatever reason, at the moment I’m finding it more useful to just try to get on with things rather than dwell on them. I am not ignoring my limitations – on the contrary, they determine how I live life every day – but I do find that I have a tendency to become frustrated if I focus too much on these issues. I have many other things to think about right now – I’m enjoying what I’m doing and life is largely very good. A while ago, someone asked me what I missed about academia. I shocked myself by answering, quite truthfully, that there is not a single thing that I miss about my previous position. Indeed, despite the awful hideousness of having had a stroke and the many difficulties attendant on the process of recovery, weighed in the balance, I would say that I am much, much happier supporting myself through my own creative endeavours than I ever was working for a University.

In any case, I feel that I’ve crossed another hurdle this weekend. And, as on a previous occasion, my friends in Ireland have helped me to cross it. I was happy teaching a workshop at This is Knit because I knew that, if I had a “bad” day and found myself unable to turn up, then both staff and pupils would have understood. This is not always the case, though, and one of the most annoying things about my present circumstances is having to remain cautious about putting myself in situations where my health issues might not meet with the same level of understanding.

Anyway, without making any sort of fuss about it, This is Knit did everything they could to put me at ease, and I’m very grateful. Thanks also to the lovely knitters at the workshop, who made the occasion a genuine pleasure for me. Before I left, Lisa and Jacqui presented me with this beautiful shawl pin, the work of local designer, Eimear Earley. Inspired by brooches in the archeological collections of the Museum of Ireland, Eimear’s pin was commissioned by This is Knit, and is just one of many examples of how the shop supports and fosters creative talent.

Thanks for a great weekend, ladies. I’ll come back any time.

Edited to Add: having received a few enquiries about the shawl pins, you can find them here.

craftopolis

This is Knit has its home in the Powerscourt Centre – a place that strongly reminded me of what the Corn Exchange in Manchester used to be like in the 1980s (ie, when it was a happy mecca of independent retailing, rather than just another anonymous mall). In the English North, such places tend to spring up in the ruins of Victorian industry, but the Powerscourt Centre began life as a Georgian townhouse, at its heyday during the years of Grattan’s Parliament. The architecture and stuccowork are still impressive — the Powerscourts clearly liked to spend the season entertaining in considerable style.

In the present era, when multinational capitalism has reduced the world of goods to a dull, mass-produced uniformity, I found it rather heartening that all but two of the numerous businesses in the Powerscourt Centre are independents. There are local fashion designers, florists, antique dealers, nice wee cafes like The Pepperpot, and a number of places to please anyone interested in craft and design.

This is Knit is top of the list, of course. One of the many nice things about the shop is how it supports other Irish yarny businesses. There you will find tempting skeins from the Dublin Dye Company . . .

. . . and Laura Hogan

. . .as well as the work of talented designers, such as crocheter Aoibhe Ni Shuilleabhain .


I love Aiobhe’s shawl designs – which are nifty and elegant in a way these pictures do not do justice. Above you see the picoted edge of Honeymeade, and Aiobhe’s shoulders wearing Snapdragon.

Round the corner from This is Knit is Article, where you can find Anouk Jansen’s cups, Bold and Noble’s prints, and Rob Ryan’s all-sorts-of-things, as well as throws and blankets from the lovely folk at Studio Donegal.

But my own personal find has to be A Rubenesque, on the ground floor of the Centre . . .

I have a mild addiction to trim and ribbons, evidenced in a large and ever-expanding stash (perhaps I shall show you the boxes one day). Here, I was in ribbon heaven.

I don’t know about you, but in me, haberdashery induces a ridiculous excitement that I really don’t feel in any other sort of store. . .


(beaded trim! oh, my!)

. . . perhaps this is because there are so few good haberdashers about. Anyway, A Rubenesque struck me as a very good one indeed. Not only is the range of trim and ribbons vast and well-selected, but the store also has a pop-up showcasing the work of local textile designers. . .

. . and it is one of just a few places where you can still buy traditional lace, hand-made by the talented lacemakers of Clones in County Monaghan.

Did I come away with something? Yes, of course I did.

Ahem. Time to excavate the ribbon stash again . . .

affirming


I have to confess that I was rather nervous about my Dublin trip beforehand. It was the first time I’ve been away on my own since my stroke and, though I feel embarrassed to admit it, this was the source of some trepidation. While I am perfectly happy pottering about alone in my locale, every time I am in an unfamiliar public space, I am produced all over again as a person with a brain injury. In public spaces, one becomes hyper-conscious of the annoying slowness and awkwardness of one’s body, and the difficulty of one’s brain in coping with a confusing range of stimuli. There is an awful lot to do (manage bags, negotiate doorways, steps, and other people’s bodies) and there is an awful lot to take in (lighting, background noise, different voices, spoken and written information). Before my stroke I was a person with an able body and brain, and, though I didn’t think of myself as such, I was intrepid, fearless, energetic. Now I am a person whose brain is quickly exhausted by auditory/ visual stimuli, and who also has a few minor disabilities. All these things accrue into a feeling of intense vulnerability in public spaces. One of the worst things about a stroke, it seems to me, is the way in which it can undermine one’s confidence and sense of independence. But I value my independence immensely, and, 18 months after my stroke, it was time to give things a go in Dublin. Was I going to be OK?

Of course I was. I travelled on planes, trams, buses, and taxis. I got myself to and from a hotel. I walked about the streets of an unfamiliar city. I pottered around the sights and shops just like I used to.


(I am still becoming accustomed to this camera, which is lighter and much easier to carry than my heavy canon).

I am not saying it was all a breeze, because it wasn’t. But things were made infinitely more breezy because of the lovely folk at This is Knit. I immediately felt not just welcome, but completely at home.

After you walk through the door and meet Jacqui and Lisa, it doesn’t take very long to spot that This is Knit is the very best kind of yarn store – one that acts as the supportive focus of a whole knitterly community. I got to meet that community at a special event – their annual yarn tasting!

This is the loft before:

and after:

Everyone settled down to enjoy some tasty yarn

I had a great evening, and even managed to say a few words to the assembled throng (this was another significant first for me, since I’ve not spoken in public since my stroke). It felt important that I was able to thank the knitters who made my blanket. It was amazing to spend time with them – they really are a lovely bunch of women.

Another highlight of the evening was getting to meet Carol Feller, whose designs I’ve long admired. Carol was launching her new book — Contemporary Irish Knits (of which more another time).


(With a little help from Eimar, Carol demonstrates Kilorglin’s neat and ingenious construction)

I am sure everyone who was at the yarn tasting enjoyed themselves in their own way, but for me it was an incredibly affirming occasion. Not only was I taking a significant step towards regaining my independence, but it was the first time I’d attended an ‘event’ of any kind as the designing, writing, post-stroke me. It felt quite momentous and was, at times very moving to meet people who read my words and knit my sweaters. It also means a lot that I was able to do this among a group of people that I really like, and know that I will see again. So a massive, affirming THANKYOU to Lisa, Jacqui, Siobhán, Elana, Roseanne, Karen, Keiko, Eimar . . .


. . . and, of course, José.

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