Fibre artists to share

I have to share Neta with you.
I've been drooling over her recycled sock dolls
for nearly three years and finally bought one for myself.

She lives in Tel Aviv, and scrounges for textiles, hand sewing
her little cloth family. Meet Neta Amir

Maybe you already know her blog.
She does workshops and and private lessons.
I hear Tel Aviv has a vibrant creative hub...

Makes me wish it didnt rack up over
20 tonnes of greenhouse gasses
to fly anywhere decent.

For now I will love my little doll
while coveting more from her Etsy shop.

I wish I knew more about Johanna Zweizer.

She crochets, she is from the Netherlands,
and she likes to jam up
current culture with her figures.

If you like what you see, treat your eyeballs to the video:
Find more videos like this on Fiber Arts/Mixed Media

She was part of a huge contemporary fibre
tounge-in-cheekness that occurred
at the German exhibition," nach strich und faden."

It means to do something thoroughly,
with great artistry and precision,
or according to the rules of an art or craft.

These days an element of cynicism has subverted
the meaning, and now the phrase points more
to something done with trickery, deceit and travesty.

Like a cross stitched car door.
See more of Johanna Zweizer's gender enhanced crochet figures on Flickr.

In the Loop giveaway winner

After exhaustive negotiations and endless deliberating,
hound has chosen a winner.

His paw descended on India's, name and no body can argue with it.

It could have been his penchant for pentameter,
or perhaps he simply
wished India some
doggy love after her recent loss.

She is an eco alchemist ,working with natural plants
for color and one day our paths will cross in real life.

India once sent me some gorgeous eco dyed
knitting performed
with two airline teaspoons
in the days when airborne knitting was a terrorist activity.
Her piece is a tribute to a knitter's persistence.

Hound wishes everyone a warm spot

and tummy scratch. He is refusing more interviews
and is now snoozing on his electric doggy blanket.

Why Alice Springs has no knit

Each morning was desert cold.

The ranges curled around the hotel and sung my name.

Out into the scrub I wander while the world wakes.

In the red dust there lies
the book of early morning;
tracks of wallabies, lizards and so many birds
- some of whom who are dining still.

I ask forgiveness for disturbing them,
such is the beauty and silence
of the morning.

There is a different beauty
on the dry riverbed walk towards town.

There one must sidestep
so many empty bottles,
spam tins and a freshly plastered cast,
broken apart with the hospital ID tag still on.

More hospital ephemera and blood spattered on a footpath.

Alcohol restrictions in place for everyone.

In the sand, beside clumps of tree and bush,
dark lumps move, wake and light fires.
Smoke curls and figures arrange themselves.

I am in someones back yard -
someones bedroom - someones bathroom.

They make their way into the day
and exchange quite greeting.

It's their land.

The giant ancestral creator beings,
caterpillars came here to meet and dance the world into being,
and they are the ranges all around us.
Alice Springs is named Mparntwe to the original dwellers
and the mountain range is part of their dreaming and part of them.

In the late '80's, despite passionate negotiations,
the government built a road
that "cut off" the tip of the caterpillar's tail.
The road to my hotel.
(I'm talking the difference of around 10 metres)

In this desert, it's beauty and
sorrow colored my heart.

It was like standing in
the Notre Dame.
It felt sacred all around.
Even the scary cast off cast.
I would no more guerrilla knit
a cathedral than knit up Alice Springs.

No, knits are for urban areas
that cry out for them.
Not one already in tears.

Alice Springs Beanie Festival

Alice Springs airport is no longer
the tin shed it once was.
It has walls and cafe
and cute golden labrador
dogs that jump all over
the luggage
doing sniffy things.


Returning again for the Beanie Festival,
the Macdonnell ranges cuddled
me like a big red caterpillar .

The desert gets chilly at night,
but a huge full moon presided over
awards for best beanie.

When the winning hats paraded
it was clear mine never
had a chance.

Unless you like perching
fibre cockatoos on your head,
forget trying to win
and just have fun.

Besides it's all for
the local community,
and a chance to warm
some heads and hands
and tummies.
The best part was sitting
with the women and weaving.

the Tjanpi Desert Weaver Women
have a new fan.

Me. I could sit with them all day.

Don't forget the giveaway -
get out the limericks!

In the Loop - a book give away

Yes,

Its a battered baby cover.
Fried at her local Yorkshire chippo,
Annie Shaw makes her statement on contemporary knit.

Its all in this new book
called, 'In the Loop - Knitting Now",
and if I wasn't given a copy
I'd have bought one anyway.

All my favourites were there
like these guys above
and Lacey Jane Roberts, below.

I am a greedy hoarder
of anything on fibre art.
Some books are wonderful,
others simply fail to blow
the skirt up.

They tease with their cool cover
and glossy hardback promises,
but like the first fumblings
of your teenage boyfriend,
they leave you high and dry,
staring at the ceiling.

The title says ,"Knitting Now" and it's not joking.

It does not say, "Knitting a few years back", or,
"We'll show you some racy fibre art
in the beginning but we really dont want to push it."

The edgy essays
leave no doubt in the mind
that knit is a perfectly
valid art medium,
so you better get used to it.

Hear that?
There are more of us who refuse
to unravel our art for charity.


In the Loop demonstrates how artists are
are choosing to express themselves
and they are probably not going
to unpick it to give to
chilly refugees after the exhibition.

Ok, I DID drop three huge bags of knit
from previous installations,
all washed and stuff
to the Salvation Army last week
because they were running
out of warm things.
But that is my choice.

Mark Newport's knitted alter egos

In the Loop is a stalwart ally
of contemporary fibre art
and one which echoes the
tiny banging of
my own tin drum.

SO

Why go to Amazon win you can win one here?

I better sing for my supper
and give one away.
I could say the book was crap
and send them both back,
but I dont want to.
The book is good.

Edgy, in ya face,
good munching skirt twirler good.

human hair knitted edging

To win your copy
either

write a limerick involving some aspect of knit

or
your idea for the next big knit project.



Baxter will again pick the winner
by dipping his honey coated paw
into a bucket of numbered dog biscuits.

Guerilla in the dog house

One thing you know as a guerrilla knitter is

sooner or later you're going to
piss someone off.

knitted pie by Sandra "knit picka"

It goes with the gig.
It's a given.
Hardly worth mentioning, really.

knitted piano keyboard by Marie with panels by Norma

In fact there is a disclaimer
on my website
that pretty much covers it.
Something about being easier
to ask forgiveness than permission.

Statue embellishments by Norma

The wonderful outcome of three months
of knitting at Vaucluse House

may never have happened.

Stamped out like a bug
under the great curatorial foot
of the Historic Houses Trust.

mankini with accessories by Sandra "knit picka" and Sonja

Yep, I did a naughty thing.

Charles Wentworth needed a beard, you see.
I made him a lovely one
with true to life Scottish colors.

For a quick fitting check,
I resorted to
tiny sticky velcro dots.

Another moment passed
in goldfish fashion
and Charles' beard was forgotten.

There he sat, thumbing his marble nose
at the grand pooh bah of all grand pooh bahs
of the Historic Houses Trust

a few days later

when they came to inspect
the "A" list pieces in the collection.

Guess

who was the "A" list piece in the collection.

love installation by Diana

Charles, who by now was on first name terms with me.
In fact it was"Chuck" late at night
when
the port was passed by the fire.

fire by Marie

As much as Chuck liked his new knitted beard,
the Grand Pooh Bahs
collapsed in horror
shouting "off with her head".

Chuck's marble expression
had been desecrated with sticky velcro.

knitted drips by Sonja, frog by Norma

OOps!
I wasn't supposed to do that.

Doily by Masta Casta, statue accessories by Sonja

Naughty naughty guerilla.

knitted chess board by Laura

While the brave lady who hired me
took the brunt of the heritage melt down,
a muffled voice from under
a large paper bag
may have been heard to say:

"Well you hired a guerilla,
and that's what you got."

piano installation by the Green Garter

Lucky it was me
and not the incredibly cool gang
of knitters who were all present at the opening.

So here's a tip:
If you use sticky velcro, don't get caught.
It wont go over well.

Join me for the highlights of the exhibition.

Knitting the House from The Channel of Babel on Vimeo.