Thursday, August 23, 2012

Beep-Boop-Bop. Robots.

A couple of years ago, I got really interested in the idea of knitted robots.  I scoured the intertubes for robot patterns, but none that I found met my satisfaction.  I had a very specific idea of what I wanted:  something like this or this.  

Since I couldn't find something that met my specifications, I started noodling around with making my own patterns.  My first attempt was a felted (of course) robot.  

I'll be honest.  I think it came out okay, but this might be the first time in the history of my knitting life that I think that the felting did more damage than good.  Don't get me wrong, he's a nice robot-man, but the felting added personality that wasn't in my plan.  For example, his rectangle mouth box was transformed into a smile.  His ear antennae shrunk unevenly.  But overall, for a prototype, he's not too shabby.  These days he's keeping my friend the Shocktopus company.

My second attempt at a red robot man turned out better, I think.  Clean, sharp boxy lines.  Nice and robotty.  I had this idea that his "hands" would be claws - something like those metal claws in the stuffed animal vending machine games.  But, they turned out looking more like thumbs up fists.  So, I dubbed this guy Positive Reinforcement Robot.  No matter what's going on, he's all like, "Good job, buddy!  Keep trying your best!"

He lives with a handsome little dude in Portland named Dashiell.

Elephant in the room

Holy moly.  I've been a busy lady lately.

Between completing (and surpassing) a 30 day Bikram yoga challenge (yay, go me!),  prepping for a buncha auditions, and finally (!!!) finishing a rough draft of a play, I've barely had time to knit.  Let alone blog about it.

 However.  I have been able to squeeze in time for a few commissions in the last month.  Here is one of my favorites.                            

I mean.....I want to tear this little elephant apart with my teeth, it's so cute.  It's based on this pattern.  The happy accident was that I ran out of the light green yarn, when I still had the ears, tail and bottoms of the feet to finish.  Oh, the God of Knitting had a greater vision for this project than what I had envisioned, and I thank Her for guiding my needles as I finished this little mothertrucker.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Plants need knits, too.

I love growing stuff.  When I was a kid, growing up in a small town, my mom had a vegetable garden behind our house.  When I moved away, and as I've moved to bigger and bigger cities, my need to cultivate greenery and produce has gotten stronger and stronger.

Last summer I had a fire escape garden.  But I got busted by the fire marshall, so it looks like my dream of being an urban farmer has stalled for a while.  So, I've been compensating by growing all kinds of plants indoors.

In fact, they were beginning to cover all the (very limited amount of) free space in my apartment.  So, I began thinking like a real New Yorker when it comes to organizing my space:  UP.

Enter hanging plant holders.

But I'm a knitter, so you know I'm not gonna just go buy one.  What's the fun in that?  Behold, my beautiful new felted plant holder.

I based it off of this one, but I made some modifications in the size of the various holders, and I did knitted I-cords instead of crocheted cords.

It's rare that I knit things for my own use, but I'm so glad I did this.  I'm in love with it.  I imagine in a few weeks, I might be living in a jungle if I don't find another project to occupy me.

Friday, August 3, 2012


Above is a commission of 12 snowmans (.....What's that?  You say snowmen?  Well, you're wrong.  It's a little known rule that the plural form of snowman is snowmans.  I know, it's counter-intuitive, but what can you do?) that I did for a nice lady in California.  I dubbed them "The 12 Frosty Misters," in keeping with the running theme of misogyny in my knitted work.

Below is a photo of me and the nice lady.  I'm the one who's knitting.  She's the one who's stunning.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Sometimes I Knit Dirty (Potentially NSFW)

Sometimes first impressions can be quite wrong.  Case in point:  My wonderful friend Jonathan.  I've known who Jonathan is for years, long before we were actually friends.  He was part of a company of actors/writers/teachers who work with school children in creative writing workshops.  (Incidentally, the company is called Barrel of Monkeys, and they stand for everything good.)

I had this idea based partially on his boyish looks and the fact that he spent so much time working with children that Jonathan was a mild-mannered and sweet man.  Which is sort of true.  But what I didn't realize until we became friends is that Jonathan is the dirtiest of birds with one of the filthiest mouths that has ever opened.

So, what does a knitter make for an adorably filthy d-bag for his birthday?  A knitted penis, natch.

Speaking of making judgements about people based on their appearance, I really really hate having big boobs.  I mean it's been something that I have hated about my body since puberty.  In my dreams, I'm a beautifully flat-chested pixie sprite.  I even cashed out my 401K and bought myself a breast reduction 10 years ago that didn't take, but that's a story for another time.  The long and short of it is that I'm stuck with these suckers, and I'm trying to make my peace with them.  By the way, their nicknames are Big Boy and Tip Top.  I believe that the first step to acceptance is to give nicknames.

But what I still really REALLY effing hate is all the stigma that comes along with having a big rack.  Like I'm not smart, or I'm a nympho or whatever nonsense.

And as an actor, it feels sometimes like the only women we want to see in the center of a story are women with a small rack.  What the hell?  Are small titted ladies less threatening?  More interesting?  More talented?  Do we, as an audience, find fully-stacked women lacking in emotional sincerity?  I call shenanigans on this monopoly that waif-like ladies have on the ingenue market.  

Once I was in dress rehearsal for a show that I really adored.  That particular night, we had a Tony-award winning director watching - and also woman, by the way - and after the run-through, this was the only thing she had to say about me to the director, "You need to find a way to cover those suckers up."

Fuck you, lady.

Here's my 32F rack in a lightning bolt bikini top I knitted for myself.  Deal with it.