a statement.

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You probably follow me on social media, and have seen me post this statement there. But in the event you don’t, and given the lens of this blog, I figured it made sense to include it here, in full.

Please let me know your thoughts and thank you for continuing in this fruitful dialogue amongst our makers in our making community. It’s good, and important, work. And we all have to do it. Not one; not some; but all.

In recent days, I’ve seen @makingzine’s latest issue, desert no. 7, celebrated again and again through social media. I wanted, too, to celebrate; after all, the desert is a place, in some ways, I call home, and the pattern and design of this magazine I subscribe to has always been anticipated with excitement.

As an indigenous person in the United States with extended family living on the Isleta Pueblo Reservation in New Mexico and a partner who is Navajo, the glaring omission of Natives in the latest issue of the magazine isn’t just about our recent conversations in the fiber community relating to inclusivity and diversity of makers and their makes; it’s about a longstanding belief in this country that Native peoples no longer exist–that we are in the past, that we are long gone. This erasure does deep harm; and in an issue that celebrates the place from which many indigenous people still reside and create some of the most profound fiber art, is deeply harmful. It’s harmful to me, personally, as a fiber enthusiast; and it’s harmful to how their readers see and view the desert.

There are countless examples, even here on social media, of my fellow indigenous fiber artists creating and celebrating their work. There are artists who raise churro, shear, spin, dye, and weave some of the world’s most intricate, and beautiful, rugs. They use every bit of the desert landscape and they share it with a wider audience on this platform we so love and use to engage with other fiber enthusiasts. You chose not to see them, to engage them, or to celebrate them. It’s erasure.

I reached out to Making privately to ask why the glaring omission; I did get a response that indicated some action plan and some details around the issue going to print before the conversations erupted around diversity in our knitting community.

But my question to Making is this: Natives have been on that desert land for centuries. Did you need a conversation through Instagram to realize that? Did you know, when you took those photos of patterns for that issue, that you all were walking on Native land? Or were you seeing that place through a lens to which you’ve been systematically taught: as a new discovery, with you and your experience at the center, negating the existence and connection of the people who are originally tied to the land you visited?

I sat on their response for a week to process my feelings and await their public response. I expected a statement around why they omitted indigenous voices and how they will do better moving forward. An acknowledgement. And it never came. What came is repost after repost from customers celebrating the issue. This felt like a misstep to me greater than the initial omission.

Let’s face it: I’m used to indigenous people being left out. Erased. I’m sick of being used to it.

So now, I tell you: celebrate the artists in this issue. Celebrate the beautiful things that come out of creating. But don’t celebrate this quiet response; this set of excuses. Celebrate any recognition of the gaping hole. And for folks who make mistakes? It’s ok. Lean into those; and don’t seek absolution through prayer hands emojis while asking others who are pointing these issues out to find understanding and patience in your inaction.

yarn: harrisville nightshades.

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Calling the hive mind! Tons of folks are obsessing over Harrisville Designs new line, Night Shades, and I am indeed one of them. I recently scored 5 skeins (a sweaters quantity, approximately) in the static color way, which has little flecks of white in the dark tones. I’m in love.

But now, what to make with it? I keep going back and forth but I’m looking for a sweater pattern that calls for DK weight yarn and isn’t tunic style (I don’t have enough for that!). Any ideas?

I thought about a pattern from the Night Shades collection by Whitney Hayward–the sable pullover in particular–but I just don’t know.

Help.

wip: skiff hat.

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I finally cast on (and finished!) the Skiff Hat. I used Brooklyn Tweed Shelter, as the pattern calls for, in the artifact color way. It’s a deep forest green and I love it.

Since finishing, I haven’t yet snapped it or worn it because I wonder if it’s too large for my head. Does it overtake me? Anyone else knit this and experience that? I did the watchcap version, not the beanie.

No pom for me, on this one. And I also went down two needle sizes, per some of the recommendations on ravelry, and I can’t imagine how off my gauge would have been if I knit this with the size needles the pattern suggested. The tubular cast on for this pattern was beautiful, too.

Finished snaps, soon.

wip: snoqualmie cardigan.

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It’s been slow going, for some reason, on my Snoqualmie Cardigan by Michelle Wang. I’ve found even though the cables are easy to memorize and not technically difficult, if I can’t concentrate, I make silly errors, or my brain can’t memorize the sequence I’m on. Maybe it’s just where I’m at right now; so despite casting on awhile ago, I’m still working on the back section.

Sigh.

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I will make progress in the coming weeks; I have to set this goal for myself.

Here are some progress shots of where I am at. I haven’t made enough of a dent in this project to know whether I’ll actually like the finished project.

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More to come, hopefully, on this one, in the next few weeks.

swatch: snoqualmie cardigan.

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I finally did it. In 2019, I swatched. I swatched this gorgeous baby for my Snoqualmie Cardigan by Michelle Wang (who is a genius, imho), which has been on my list to knit forever.

And in 2019, one of my knitting goals was to swatch. And to swatch regularly for sweaters. I’m so bad about this; and I’m thrilled to be turning over a new leaf to less giving it up to chance and more the perfect fit.

This sweater is slow going because I haven’t had time to concentrate on it. But, it will get some love this weekend, I think.

I’m knitting it in Quince and Co. Osprey in the audouin color; I saw others knit it up with this yarn and I loved the drape on their garments.

Fingers crossed this seamed, robust cabled cardigan is everything I hope for this year.

f.o.: galloway hat.

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This hat! What a dream to knit. I bought a kit to make it from Brooklyn Tweed because I liked the idea of having just the right amount of yarn for the pattern, but I ended up having some extra of the main color way because I didn’t add a pom pom.

This is a fine detail color work hat but it’s super quick to knit and comes out looking fancier than the work reflects. I gifted this one to a colleague for the holidays and I think it was a hit.

The hat is knit with the gorgeous and amazing to work with Peerie Yarn, the newest line from Brooklyn Tweed. My kit was for the “Thatch” color theme–Burnished, Sea glass, Lovat and Humpback. I have a second kit for the same hat in a different color theme awaiting my needles.

wip | (yet another) resist hat.

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I love these Resist hats. I’ve knit four of them already–so why not a fifth? This one is knit using Quince and Co. Finch in sabine for the main color and canvas for the contrasting.

This hat knits up really quick, so if you’re looking for some handmade holiday items as we wind down, this one is it. This is the first time I’ve used Finch for this hat–and it’s so worth it; the Resist is much stronger, clearer, and more dynamic and I think it’s the yarn choice.

See more of my Resist hats, here.

 

bake | copycat levain chocolate chip walnut cookies.

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I did it. I went to Levain when the doc and I were in NYC this past October, and I ate one of their monster chocolate chip walnut cookies that tastes bready, almost, its so dense.

And then I went home and managed to recreate them in my own kitchen. I decided the keys were: very cold butter mixed with sugar, a dab of cornstarch, and a bit of cake flour. No vanilla. My process was very close to this one.

They were magical. I wouldn’t want these as a replacement to my own, silver dollar sized and so soft mini chip cookies, but I’d add these into rotation every now and again. It was a great experiment in the kitchen; one that paid in dividends.