This post makes me think of gentle waves lapping on sandy shore complete with bucket, spade and cricket bat. It’s old fashioned, timeless and harks back to simpler times in an eat it now sort of way.
Celia Pym is a knitting/embroidery artist and much of her work centres around visible mending – taking something worn, discarded and unloved…
..and adding a new, contrasting layer to marry the piece together.
The finished work takes on a whole new personality – the ghost of the past with the mend of the future. The work is seamless but showy, in the best unshouty kind of way.
Or mend the knees in my jeans like this. Maybe it’s the integrity of the craft that’s so appealing? But I looked up on You Tube to see how to do it..
(All pics Celia Pym)
Even watching this was meditative.
Now where’s my darning mushroom?
Laters, Kate x
Can love ever be too much or am I just too westernised? I spotted an article on DogWool on the plane on the way back from Greece – apparently there’s a little place in Brittany between Abercerac’h and the Virgin Island lighthouse that will use a traditional spinning wheel, to spin your dogs unwanted hair into balls of wool ready to knit.
Which is nothing if not honest recycling: It’s something Eskimos have done for centuries using Husky hair as the perfect property against the cold. In northern Russia they knit socks of dog wool to prevent rheumatism…
But here? Now?? Maybe my worry is that we don’t live in an extreme cold environment where fingers drop off if they’re not covered appropriately and – lets be honest – this further blurs the line between dog and owner – we already know how many morph to look like each other and now, through this they can genuinely can be a human in dogs clothing.
And what happens when your dog dies??
If this is your thing, then by all means go for it – there’s certainly a high level of skill involved…personally, I’ve never met a dog I didn’t like…sadly I can’t say the same for knitwear..Molly, you’re safe.
Laters, Kate x