Courage

This post isn't really about knitting, but I hope you'll indulge me and give it some thought. Courage. It's one of those small words that carries great impact and comes in all forms.

I was cleaning up photos on my mobile last night when I came across a few images I had forgotten about. Our city made the national news last month when Nancy Belmont, a leadership coach living a few blocks away, started "The Courage Wall." Inspired by the "Before I Die" wall that began in New Orleans, the Courage Wall was one of those simple ideas that went a long way.

Located across the street from our dry cleaners, I began to notice activity in May when an empty lot was cleared up, long pieces of wood appeared and more activity than usual began. We walk down this street frequently - almost every day. I was intrigued and excited to see what was going to happen in this space that I always thought could go to better use than just sitting vacant. Then one morning in early June, it appeared - a large, 8' x 20'  black chalkboard complete with buckets of chalk, empty spaces and the title "I WISH I HAD THE COURAGE TO..." written across the top.

I thought about this wall a lot over the next few weeks. What I liked most about it was it was anonymous and a way to get people to interact with each other, respect each other and get a peek into other people's deepest desires, regrets, wishes and dreams, reminding us that we're not alone - judgement free. These are thoughts that people probably wouldn't share out loud - we all have secrets, after all. It changed daily, almost like little elves came out at midnight and washed it clean. I liked that idea as well - each day we start fresh and begin again.

I began walking up there often just to take a look at the wall. Things like "not worry about money" or "ask so-and-so out" were common, or one of my favorites written in a child's hand "jump off the big diving board in the deep end." But sometimes there was something on there that struck a chord and I would carry an anonymous person's wish in my mind all day, wondering about them and their story and hope that "writing it out loud" would give them the courage we are all seeking to make their dream a reality.

I started to feel like a fraud. I'd walk up, read the desires of strangers, then walk home, never contributing.

When I finally got up my own courage to contribute to the wall, it felt good to see it up there. Mine is pretty simple - to play the violin. I've always wanted to but I was busy with ballet, skiing, school, art, knitting, family, the list goes on. The cold hard fact is that I cannot read music. After an elementary school music teacher told me "you should find another interest because music isn't for you," after I asked for help, I gave up. I actually choked up writing that simple statement on the board and went home that night and ordered a book on learning to read music for adults. The funny thing is that even though I knew it was me holding myself back, the simple act of writing it up there in bright yellow chalk made me realize that hey, maybe I can do this for me for no other reason than to fulfill a lifelong wish.

We can apply this thought, "I wish I had the courage too..." to so many things in life. Just look at the news - people have the courage to fight for injustice, to change the name of a well-known football team because it's just not right, to get flags lowered that shouldn't be flying in the first place, to get married and have equal rights, to fly into space, to cure horrible diseases, to lend a helping hand, to stand up for what they believe in. We can even apply this our knitting lives - and I've heard it countless times. "I wish I had the courage to learn Fair Isle" or, "Lace scares me. I wish I had the courage to try it out." Heck, it's only knitting and my thoughts are that we can rip it out, start over, get a different yarn or try a new pattern, but to someone different it's just not that easy. When did we all get saddled with so much self-doubt?

I was standing in my own way.

It's July and the wall is gone now. We still walk by that space frequently and I think of that wall and my dream often. Why did it take a huge chalkboard across the street from my dry cleaners to make me do something about it? I hope this post makes you think about what you want to have the courage to do. Maybe you'll take a step towards making that wish a reality. Get out of your own way!

So now it's your turn, dear readers. What do you wish you had the courage to do, knitting or otherwise?

Elkmont Scarf & Giveaway!

UPDATED 7.9.15: Congratulations to winner Laura! Laura, check your email. ----------------------------

As promised, dear readers, a score of vacation-inspired patterns are coming your way during the remaining weeks of summer. I've been hard at work on all sorts of projects (lace, cables, Fair Isle, oh my!) and am excited to share the first with you!

The Elkmont Scarf is inspired by the bougainvillea we saw blooming everywhere while walking in the woods and camping at the Elkmont Campgrounds in Tennessee. Knit in Alchemy Yarns of Transformation's thick and thin Rustico yarn (a 100% hand dyed silk bulky weight) in pink tourmaline, this yarn was a pleasure to knit with and definitely brought to mind the delicate blossoms. I've always been a fan of Alchemy's fibers and colors and this particular colorway is gorgeous.

I love scarves, but if I'm going to design or knit one, I want something that keeps my interest and has an interesting chart to follow. This was a really fun pattern to knit up and worked up quickly on US 10.5 needles. I always thought that knitting cables was the closest thing to sculpting with yarn and the texture of the criss-crossing combined with the picot edges keeps the design captivating. I've also color-coded the cable chart to make it easier to keep track of which way the cables cross with a quick glance rather than fumbling with your needles, yarn, cable needle and pattern pages.

What I like about this silk yarn is that it doesn't stretch like crazy like bamboo might, it can be worn year round and this is one of my favorite colors. Bright pink looks great in the warm months and will certainly cheer you up in the cooler ones when everything turns to gray.

The Elkmont Scarf is available for download here.

Now for the giveaway! Answer the following trivia question in the comments (contest is open to readers worldwide) correctly to be entered in for a chance to win a copy of the pattern. A winner will be chosen at random on Thursday and contacted by me via email:

What type of flower does saffron come from?

Did you know you can subscribe to my blog so you don't miss a post or a contest? Long-time readers know how much I love to give away yarn, patterns, books and other knitting paraphernalia. Sign up to be sure you don't miss anything!

Cross-Stitch Tattoo

While I don't have a tattoo myself, I can appreciate well-done tattoos that are craft-inspired. I ran across this article recently (original article here) about Turkish tattoo artist Eva Krdbk combining her craft of tattoo and cross-stitch and wanted to share it with you...

Cross-Stitch Tattoos By Turkish Artist Eva Krbdk 

Many people consider cross-stitching to be something their grandma would do, but Eva Krbdk, a tattoo artist based in Ankara, Turkey, seems to think otherwise. Her cross-stitch tattoo designs look like a cross between pixel art and the popular folk art they’re named for.

Many of her pieces are simple and cute, but with a large-enough canvas, they can become truly impressive, utilizing a wide array of colors that blend to form beautiful images.

In Which We Find A Ghost Town...

It's a pretty rare thing for us to take a family vacation. We visit our families, we take day trips, we plan brief getaways with friends, but I cannot remember the last time we blocked out an entire week 8 months in advance without knowing what we were going to do. While I was filming videos in Colorado for Interweave last month, my husband and I hatched our vacation plan over email. Before I knew it, I was deciding which projects to bring with me, packing us up and like all knitters, wondering if I brought too much knitting or (horror!) too little.

Last week found us in new territory. While the husband drove the full 1400 miles roundtrip so I could happily knit and crochet away in the front seat and wrangle our son, we camped between 2 streams in Tennesee, watched fireflies outside our tent, I knit in a stream, we visited Dollywood and rode rollercoasters until I swear I could hear my ribcage rattling around, touched sting rays, walked through a shark tunnel, stayed in a cabin on the bank of another river in North Carolina, hiked the Smoky Mountains, ate some amazing food in Asheville, visited the Biltmore Estate, tubed down some rapids, visited a few knit shops and my most favorite thing of all - hiked deep into the woods and stumbled upon a ghost town.

I love old things, especially old things that somehow relate to American history. Maybe that's why I love knitting so much - the history that's flowing from our fingers as we stitch away is so calming and so global. While hiking and searching for an old graveyard that was on a random map we had where we were camping in Elkmont, Tennessee, we found ourselves in the middle of an abandoned village. Since we were in the land of no internet, we had to wait until we were back in civilization to do some research and see exactly where it was that we had gone back in time to.

According to Wikipedia, "In his company's early days, Wilson Townsend allowed hunters and fishermen to use the Little River Railroad to access the deep, game-rich forests of the Smokies. As the Elkmont valley was slowly stripped of its valuable timber, Townsend began to advertise the area as a mountain getaway. In 1909, Little River Railroad began offering the Sunday "Elkmont Special"— non-stop train service from Knoxville to Elkmont. In 1910, an affluent group of Knoxville hunting and fishing enthusiasts formed the Appalachian Club and purchased what is now "Daisy Town" south of the confluence of Little River and Jakes Creek. They built the Appalachian Clubhouse for use as a lodge. Within a few years, several clubmembers built cottages, and the club evolved into a mountain getaway for Knoxville's elite.  In 1920, Willis P. Davis and his wife Anne, who owned a summer cottage at Elkmont, began to suggest an idea for a national park in the Smokies after a visit to Yellowstone. Business owners in Knoxville quickly saw the benefits of a national park and began lobbying federal and state governments."

While the history itself was very interesting, we were more interested in what exactly had happened afterwards... Why were the original 19 cottages from "Daisy Town" that we stumbled upon still (barely) standing, abandoned and overgrown? Why hadn't they been repaired or torn down, letting the land be reclaimed by nature? After more searching, we found, "Most of the lifetime leases on the Wonderland Hotel and the rustic cottages at Elkmont expired in 1992 (two expired in 2001), and ownership reverted to the National Park Service. The park's 1982 General Management Plan calls for all structures to be removed to allow nature to reclaim the affected areas. However, in 1994, the Wonderland Hotel and several of the rustic cottages were placed on the National Register of Historic Places, giving them a special status. A debate immediately ensued over the fate of these structures. In 2005, the Wonderland Hotel collapsed from a structural failure. Parts of the hotel deemed to have historical value were removed and the rest cleared, leaving only the annex and a chimney fall. In its 2009 Final Environmental Impact Statement for Elkmont, the National Park Service announced plans to restore the Appalachian Clubhouse and eighteen cabins in the Appalachian Club section. The remaining structures will be carefully documented and removed. Seventeen of the nineteen structures chosen for restoration and preservation are located in the Appalachian Club's "Daisy Town" section. These were selected primarily as the oldest and most historically notable structures in the historic district. Most of the cottages were built between 1910 and 1930, and renovated numerous times over subsequent decades."

While walking through this silent "town" in the middle of a giant forest with my son and husband, I could imagine people knitting and crocheting on their front porches, laughter and birds chirping, watching children running down the street or like I had a few days prior, wondering if they brought enough knitting to get them through their trip. Life was different back then - of course - but again, our knitting history runs so deep and so far into the past that it wasn't a great stretch of my imagination to picture people happily knitting away on a bright summer's day, their cottages intact and new. There was something very odd about those houses in the woods to me. I felt like I belonged there and had a weird sense of deja vu the whole time we walked quietly through. Since the structures were unstable with "no trespassing" signs posted everywhere, we walked, touching nothing, anxious to find out more about this place.

Our trip inspired many a future knitting project, color combinations to reenact in the form of Fair Isle (so much GREEN!), a renewed sense of pride and love for what I do and sparked my sense of adventure which had lay dormant for far too long. I learned so much on this trip and it was wonderful visiting so many places I had never been. But the best part? These two guys here, reconnecting as a family and appreciating what we have.

Stay tuned for some summer vacation-inspired knitting patterns coming your way soon!