Knitting for Dragons

My friend, and former co-star, Michael asked me to do a cat bed for his sweet kitty Dragon.  He let me know that Dragon is a big boy, and has outgrown his current bed.  And he provided photographic evidence to support this claim.

And photos don't lie, folks.  

So, who am I to deny a sweet sleepy kitty a place to lay his cat head?

I whipped up another of my cat beds - in grey/green fuzzy fur, with a yellow/green base.  According to Sadie, it's suitably comfortable.  

We hope you enjoy it, Dragon.

Not bad for someone who knows nothing about sports

The other day, my friend Anthony asked me to make a basketball hat for a new baby for a friend of his.    I said yes because I never say no, but the truth is I spent a maddening amount of time pouring over Google images of basketballs before I could figure out how to do it.  

Even thinking about the basketball conjures memories of gym class despair and humiliation.

When I was 14 years old, I got knocked out cold in gym class and had to go to the hospital.  That's how not good at sports I am, and it's probably the seed of the reason that I have zero interest in watching sports, to boot.

However, having said all that, I have to say, I don't think I did too shabby of a job putting this hat together.   My old pal, Crystal Skull, modeled it for the camera before I sent it off to Ant.

What do you think?

Patience. Forgiveness. Pushing my rage inward.

Whoever said moving can be quick and stress-free is crazy.  What's that?  No one said that ever?  Huh.  Then I guess it's time to get the wax out of my ears.

So.  Okay.  I moved about a month ago.  I'm still trying to figure out what's going on, where I am, who I am, and where all my damn stuff is.

But, rest assured, I've been knitting my face off the whole time.

Right before the move, I endeavored to make a felted tote bag for my sweet friend Heather.  Heather is a lighting designer, and she gave me free range to design the bag however I wanted.  I came up with what I thought was a pretty cool design and set to work.

However.  Unbeknownst to me, some of my 100% wool - which is the most important component of a felting project - was evidently treated with something that made it unfeltable.  And I didn't know this until the tote bag was finished and I attempted to felt it.  One side felted beautifully, and the other side was just an enormous, floppy, soggy mess.

I gave myself a day to swear and kick dirt before I came up with a plan to take it apart, discard the floppy side, re-knit the side I needed, and felt it separately before attaching it to the rest of the bag.

And unfortunately, it happened again.  I thought I was going to lose my mind.  But instead, I took some deep, cleansing breaths and tried to channel my calm determination.  (I know that sounds totally ridick but I'm working on patience and forgiving myself these days.  Stop laughing.)

And the third time was the charm.  Kind of.  The side turned out great!  And I stitched it back together, and felted the whole thing together again - which shrunk it down a little bit more, but no big deal.  And then....I realized that one of the handles was twisted.  So, I had to snip the handle and fix it before sewing it and felting it once again.  Shrinking it a bit more.

AND THEN.

I realized that the handles were off center, so the whole bag couldn't lay flat.  SO.  I HAD TO CUT THE HANDLES AND FELT THE GODDAMN THING AGAIN.

By now, it's no longer a tote bag, but a cute little handbag.  And I'm doing some serious deep breathing about the whole debacle.

But it's still pretty cute.

On the upside, this is the first project that I was able to sew in my new custom knit labels!  I was so excited to get them!  Don't you love them?

However, it seems like - for now at least - this is also the last project to get one of my custom labels, because they appear to have been lost in the move.  FML.

Don't Call It A Comeback

Hello puppies.  So....I'm finally in the new apartment.  Jesus Chreesus, what a crazy month it's been.  I don't know if you've heard, but there was a hurricane, and it hit the week we were trying to move.  And then another major storm hit this week, too.

Honestly, the last few weeks have been a blur.  I don't know if I've ever been so stressed and tired and worried for such an extended period.  My right eyelid has been twitching for two weeks, no kidding.  Maybe I should see a doctor.

As far as New York goes, we were some of the lucky ones.  We never lost power, and we didn't sustain any hurricane-related damage.  Although I lost my beloved ukulele in the move, but compared to how much other people lost, I feel like an asshole complaining about it.

I'm still unpacking.  The new apartment is amazing, but it's still a wreck.  And right now, sadly, organizing my craft space is not the highest priority.  But soon, SOON, it will get done.

This week I donated a bunch of scarves and hats that I had knitted years back.  And I frantically knitted some new hats to donate as well.  I wish I could've done more.  I think I'm having some survivor's guilt.

I did have time for one sweet little craft for myself.  I made this little metal and glass ring for myself with a T on it (for my sweet T-Bone).

Okay, guys.  I gotta get back to work.  More to come soon.

BRB, K?

I guess someone got wind that there was a white girl up in Harlem knitting and playing the ukulele, and I've been sentenced to imprisonment in Brooklyn with the rest of the hipsters.  I almost feel relieved to have been caught.  I've been on the run so long, living a lie in upper Manhattan.  It feels good to finally be honest about who and what I am.

No?  Okay.

So, my cats answered a Craig's List ad about a sunny top floor brownstone apartment that overlooks a park with lots of squirrel activity and that has a layout which allows for premium run-sprints-around-the-joint-crazy-go-nuts action.  They stole my cellphone and disguised their little kitty voices and forged my name on the lease.  I'm not very happy about it, and I'm considering legal action.

No?  Okay.

Something about ninjas and an evil otter and for some reason Brooklyn is the key to saving mankind from utter destruction.

The truth is boring, but the fact is I'm moving to Brooklyn in two weeks.  My posts may be a little sparse until then, but rest assured, my yarn will be packed up last of all.

xoxo

Coping with my failures

I believe I've expounded several times in the blog on my love of felting projects.  So it goes without saying I was excited when I found a (very simple) pattern online for a felted bathmat/kitchen mat.

I used some sunny pinks and yellows and oranges and purples.  It knitted up quickly and I could hardly wait to see how it would look in my kitchen.  Below is a pre-felting shot of the rug after I finished knitting it.

The only problem was that I didn't have immediate access to a washer to felt it.  Not usually a problem, I've felted lots of stuff by hand.  Once, when I was working on a show away from home, I felted a project in the hotpot I had set up in my hotel room.  God, I'm such a dork.

Anyway, the trouble is the bigger the project is, the harder it is to felt it by hand.  And this rug was pretty big.  

The thing is, if I would've just been patient I would've had access to a washing machine and it wouldn't have been a problem.  But I am an impatient jerk.  And I get too excited for the finished product - especially the finished felted product.  

I had heard that some people actually prefer to do their felting in a big pot on a stove, but I'd never really had much experience with that.  I just happen to have a giant pot because I like to do canning, as well (of course), so I popped the rug into the pot with some water and set it to boil.

And before long, I realized that the dye had begun to run and leech out of most of the yarns.  What I had hoped and dreamed would be a brightly colored multi-striped mat, turned into a drab, two-tone peach and mauve POS.

And I hate it.  But I'm stubborn and I like to get into fights with inanimate objects.  I enjoy treating mishaps as if they were actually signs that the universe hates me, and therefore I refuse to do the logical thing and throw the POS out and start over.  Because that would be admitting defeat, you see.  And I will not do that.

Maybe I'm Not An Actor Anymore....But I Could Knit You One.

Sometimes I think being an actor was the worst idea I have had.  For example, when I think about the fact that I've done one play in the past five years.  Or when I think of the soul-suckingingly depressing act of having your sense of self-worth filtered through the lens of a bleary-eyed and bored casting director.

Boo-hoo-hoo to me.

Seriously, the less I think about how fucked up and counterproductive the business of being an artist can be, the better I feel - not just about myself but the world.

That being said, if you have a line on an audition you think I'd be right for, let me know.  It's a little like what I imagine a being a crackhead is like.  I'll keep saying I can give it up, but man, oh man, next thing you know I'm sucking a dealer's dick for a role.  I mean a rock.  Either way.  You get the metaphor.

ANYWAYZIES.

My sweet friend Michael asked me if I would be interested in making some dolls for a short play that he's producing for another sweet fella, Jonathan.  And I was all, "Hell yeah, I would."  The only specification was that one of them should be a one-eared cat.

So, here are my new actor friends that I just made.  In alphabetical order (as per their contracts):

Above is Bobby Blobby.  He's sort of your overly-serious, slightly schlubby but chameleon-like actor.  Basically, he's Knitted Philip Seymour Hoffman.

Introducing, Freddy Fingers.  He's kind of ugly and weird, but also sexyish? and non-threatening, and definitely a character actor and not a leading spider.  He's knitted Peter Lorre, or Willem Dafoe, or Steve Buscemi.  

And our leading lady, Paco.  She's beautiful, in an unconventional sort of way, and exotic, her accent is thick and her features are slightly asymmetrical, but she as a certain.....je ne sais quoi.  She's knitted Audrey Tatou or Marion Cotillard.

Here's the cast publicity shot.  Bobby's got a well-documented drinking problem, even though his PR guy says it was a bout with exhaustion, either way, that should account for his rough appearance.

If these fuckers hit it big, I'll be expecting my ten percent.