Since my return from California I've been to Vermont and back, paid the bills, written some thank you notes and set up my art show (which looks like it will be poorly attended due to hurricane Earl. Oh well, Robert [my gallery mate] and I will just have to drink all the wine)
Not bad, but next to me sits a pile of other things I need to do. There are people I need to call, emails I need to respond to, errands I have to run. I've kind of shelved my new art project. It's sitting up there, a bright colored, bulky tome on the eye-level shelf in my mind, but I haven't had the space to get to it.
Today all I want to do is stay in bed and read, knit and sleep. But then that's all I ever want to do.
What I'm wondering is, is it time yet to start cracking the whip at myself again? You may already be aware that I'm prone to sloth. This is what worries me. Where does one draw the line between being kind to oneself and milking it?
Here are the socks I knit for my dad this summer. I'm really glad I finished them in time for him to see them. They're a little big for me.
I made them with Noro Silk Garden Sock yarn. Dad lived in Japan for a few years in his twenties. Japanese culture was an important part of his aesthetic. Also, he introduced sushi to me and to almost everyone I know. I thought it would be appropriate to use Japanese yarn.
After I finished Dad's socks I made some for my mom too. Unfortunately I don't have a photo of them. I made Mom's socks out of Socrates yarn in Wednesday Night Green. That yarn is incredibly soft and fuzzy.