Plotting the Course
My Up & Writing workshop prep has been somewhat addicting. I love shaping and refining my thoughts for (what will hopefully be) maximum impact. I leave for Squam bright and early tomorrow morning! 
June Squam 2014, part 3
("Blossoms unspooled from her mouth"; June Squam 2014, part 2; all Squam entries.)
Why has it taken me two and a half months to finish blogging about June Squam? I guess I've wanted to focus on drawing rather than writing about drawing. I'm doing it, I'm really doing it—one drawing a day for eight minutes (or more, depending on how much I'm into it). Some drawings are meh and others I'm really proud of. Either way, the point is, I'm doing it, for almost sixty days in a row now!—and I'm tweeting my drawings. I'm so grateful to Kerry Lemon for giving me the space and encouragement to make that breakthrough.
An essential part of this drawing-and-sharing process has been learning to recognize the stories I tell about myself—stories that are outdated, or were never accurate to begin with. In this case, the story was I'm a better writer than I was an artist, with variations on that theme:
If I were talented enough, I would have run with it when I had the chance.
I didn't get that portfolio together in time to apply to art college, and that was MEANT TO BE.
I should leave drawing and painting to people who are real artists. People with VISION, who know what they're doing. It's enough for me to appreciate and support the real artists.
I can't draw faces.
And so on, and so on. Most of these "stories" are nonsense, and yet we live out our lives believing them, and letting them hold us back. It feels so good to have reached the point at which I don't care what anyone says or thinks of what I make, if anyone considers it "worthwhile." It's my time, so I get to be the person who decides that. And anyhow, everyone who saw my drawings said lovely supportive things, so it's not like I have any naysayers buzzing nearby. I'm so blessed to have friends and family who support me no matter what I want to do. 
There'll be more Squam awesomeness coming soon, since this time I'm going back to teach!
This Vegan Hipster Life
I have a bunch of big posts planned (on all themes), but I can't seem to get myself motivated to finish any of them. Ah well. In the meantime, here's some of what I've been up to.Firstly, more meals in Ball jars. I don't care if it's hipster, these jars are less expensive and way more durable than Gladware and you can banish that vague worry about chemicals leaching into your food. I also really enjoy eating and drinking out of them, in the same way I'd rather go without coffee than drink it out of styrofoam. It's the same drink and all, but it just tastes better out of a proper mug. 
I made a variation on this recipe for callaloo stew with my farmshare callaloo, carrots, and spring onions (using plantains and red beans), and it turned out AWESOMELY delicious. Made a big batch for quick lunches and snacking for the following week. 
Collards, tempeh, onion, garlic, nooch. (I put nooch on nearly everything these days. Great source of B vitamins and protein!) As for crafting, I haven't been knitting as much as I've wanted to, although I did manage to finish an embroidery project I started in 2012 (more on that later). My most recent F.O. is an elephant for Paré's baby, Marlo. Her initials are M.M.M. so I think of her as "M3." (This was not an entirely vegan project, as I'm still using up my collection of tiny balls of Cascade Superwash.) 
@cometparty LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS!! Thank you so much! pic.twitter.com/E8NcBhnmN9— Sarah P. Miller (@SarahPMiller) July 11, 2014
I've already got a bunch of knitting projects started, but for some reason I had to cast on for yet another one while I was in New Jersey this past weekend. I'm using laceweight bamboo weaving yarn from Webs, so it's going to take forever (as my grandfather gleefully reminds me whenever I bring my knitting over), but it'll be worth it. 
I'm also in the middle of expanding my humble herb garden. (A nesting/organizing post is one of the things I haven't gotten around to yet.) Finally, a couple of notes. If you were thinking about ordering a winter coat from Vaute Couture, today's the time—preorders are 50% off for 24 hours starting sometime this afternoon (keep refreshing the Facebook page, haha).Secondly: registration for Fall Squam ends this Friday, August 15th! There are still a couple spots left in my Friday Up & Writing! class. Insanely excited for this.
Einstein is Your Fairy Godfather
I'm gonna be honest with you lovely people: it's been sort of a rough few weeks (though I feel silly even saying it because, come on, I have never in my life had capital-P problems.) I came down with one of those sucks-all-your-energy colds the last evening of Squam, and I realized that usually being so healthy and energetic means I no longer know how to be sick. That might sound strange, but you know what I mean: taking it easy and gracefully accepting your temporary limitations instead of beating yourself up for not getting anything done. I went back and forth on that, but admittedly I was frustrated with myself for at least 60% of the time—which was, of course, a waste of what little energy I had!Underneath the cold-induced inertia there has been another sort of malaise, one that wouldn't dissipate with the triumph of my white blood cell platoon. I'm feeling better now, it's still there, and I have to face it (and I might as well do so publicly, because I can't be the only one in this position!) 
A week or so ago I sent a letter to a very dear friend saying, in effect, "I see you not living up to your potential and I want you to stop being afraid and GO FOR IT." Last night it finally hit me that I could have written myself a version of that very thought. (Isn't that always the way?) I have grown in leaps and bounds as a writer since Petty Magic tanked at the end of 2010, but that's just it—there's nothing about being a storyteller that frightens me anymore. I'm looking toward my most ambitious writing project to date and I just think, I got this. While I recognize that drawing and painting and putting what I draw out there is the next big scary thing in my evolution, I've only made the most tentative steps so far. I've spent the past three weeks intending to put pen to paper, to follow through on the epiphany I had in the incomparable Kerry Lemon's drawing class (which I will blog about soon), but until last night I kept excusing my procrastination with "when I'm feeling better." (I know I was just talking about going easy on myself. This is different.) I was feeling better, physically anyway, but my mood had taken a nosedive. There were all these serendipitous things (seriously, a note in a library book!) nudging me to forget everything and just pick up that Micron pen. Elizabeth is always the best person to talk to when I'm in a spot like this; she said, "You are being too precious about this. Just set a timer for eight minutes and DRAW ANYTHING."So that's what I did. 
You know that new(ish) internet challenge, 100 Happy Days? I hereby promise myself that I will draw for eight minutes per day for the next 100 days. This is how real and lasting change happens—one simple action at a time, modest and brave. A sweet little paradox, no?I have a lot more to say on this subject, but I'll leave it here for now. It's your turn, lovely people! What are you afraid of? Who is it you want to become, and what do you need to do to let go of the person you are? (You don't necessarily have to share below, it'll just be good to know you are thinking about it too.)
@cometparty @squamlove I'm so happy for you! Such a great challenge, I'm really excited to see all your drawings! Xx— Kerry Lemon (@kerryannelemon) July 1, 2014
June Squam 2014, part 2
(June Squam 2014, part 1.)
Retreats like Squam Art Workshops are becoming more popular as people (okay, mostly women) realize how important it is for their emotional and spiritual well being to reconnect with their creativity, not to mention nature: the pines! The stars! The loons calling across the lake at night! You drink it all in and you are replenished.That said, I've noticed some people seem puzzled when I try to explain just how profoundly Squam has changed my life. I almost feel like they want me to justify spending that $1300—there's this implication hanging in the air between us, as if that money were better spent elsewhere. On something, you know, practical.Let me tell you something. The older I get, the more I understand that I can do very little good for anyone else if I am tired and depleted. You want to be with me when I am EXCITED ABOUT LIFE, right? You want some of that joyful energy to rub off on you.Sure, I draw inspiration from lots of places. But when I go to Squam, I "fill up" in the most mindful way—it changes me every time. I want each new experience to change me. That's something I first learned at Harmony Homestead Farm, and it allows me to find meaning in even the most seemingly random encounters.I may overuse the word "random" in casual conversation, but I know nothing truly is. I'll never forget the moment Anne sat down beside me in the playhouse back in June 2011 while the Yarn Harlot was giving one of her typically hilarious talks. Obviously we couldn't introduce ourselves until the talk was over, but we were absolutely communicating without words. I knew her. I knew we were going to be friends—no, that we were already friends, and had been for a very long time.So this year it was mind-blowingly delightful to be able to fall asleep in the same room after reminding each other just how far we've come over the past three years. Anne's blog is more popular than ever, and she is now under deadline with Potter Craft (Random House, NBD!) for Knitting Without Needles, coming out August 2015. I have a new home and a two-book deal under my belt. (Anne moved too, way farther than I did!)Anne's is one of the most satisfying friendships of my life, and you can't put a price tag on that. Squam has given me a wealth of satisfying friendships—Elizabeth and Amy Lou and Kath and Amiee and Jen, plus many more wise and beautiful women. I can't tell you how many times I heard someone call my name, embrace me, compliment my sweater, and how it made me feel to be recognized and appreciated for my creativity. It sounds so simple, but love and joy and unconditional acceptance aren't complex concepts. 
I need to write about Terri's woodworking class and Kerry's drawing class—a BIG breakthrough in Kerry's class especially—but I think I've written enough for one entry. I'll tell you more next week, including more about Sarah Sousa's poetry. (And Anne took my new author photo!! I'm so thrilled! I'll post those pics separately.)
Getting delightfully messy in @kerryannelemon's art class this past weekend at @squamlove: pic.twitter.com/CsvnX27MOF— Camille DeAngelis (@cometparty) June 9, 2014
It was a parade of smiles last night! Love seeing all my students in their new frocks. #squamartfair… http://t.co/hvXLiwWuyv— cal patch (@hodgepodgefarm) June 8, 2014
@cometparty @flaxandtwine I LOVED spending time with you on this hike. So glad we kept going! It was worth every single mosquito bite :)— Jeanne Lewis (@foundermom) June 9, 2014
Laughter and thoughtful conversation on a sunny lakefront porch with a favorite friend @cometparty… http://t.co/cRXXQPLfQY— Anne Weil (@flaxandtwine) June 7, 2014
Blossoms unspooled from her mouth
(A line from poet Sarah Sousa, who gave readings on Friday and Saturday nights at June Squam.)
Proper recap coming soon!
Where We Make: Di Mackey
[This Friday I'm very pleased to host jet-setting photographer Di Mackey, who recently discovered this website through the wonderful rabbit hole that is the world-wide web. Di's is the first 100% random submission to Where We Make, which makes me even more delighted to have her!]
***
I'm a professional photographer, a writer, and a blogger too. I'm a New Zealander living in Belgium and honestly ... I never know which thing about me should come first.
I'm also someone who runs off to the sea and mountains in Genoa, Italy, as often as possible.
And the space where I make is important … whereever I am.
So, of course, my laptop is central to that space and from there I build up with what is possible. Here in Antwerp, at my house, I have a cocoon-like space. I'm tucked away in the corner of our L-shaped bedroom. I hang beautiful things on that desk-dividing red wall, there in front of me, things that I love.
I also love books, so my husband built me a series of red bookshelves and there my very best books live.
In this space I have an external keyboard that is English (my laptop is not) and a much bigger external screen. These are luxuries for when I'm working at home. Oh, and a fast internet connection too.
Quite often, over these years living in Europe, I have worked in places not my own. My second place where I make is in Genoa, Italy. It has been the same since 2008—a round kitchen table in a friend's apartment on a tiny street called Via Ravecca.
My place where I make is pared down. There's my laptop, a USB modem, and a plastic water bottle cut-down to act as vase for the flowers I always find on my first day back in the city.
My camera gear, all 6kgs+ of it, and every single cable and piece of equipment that I need to pack for the road has its place in that other space where I make. Sometimes I feel like a sherpa on Everest, as I move between worlds but honestly, it's worth it to have that second, much quieter space.
I've worked in Cairo, Berlin, Madrid, Istanbul, London and out on Flanders Fields here in Belgium. In Brussels, in Paris, in Amsterdam. Sometimes on a photo-shoot for others, sometimes just working for me and my website.
And so I realised, while writing this for Camille, that my laptop is key to the space where I make. Flowers help but I guess I can make anyplace … and I like it like that.
***
I love the idea of using flowers to brighten a temporary workspace, and that illustration on the wall above her desk at home! You can find Di on Twitter at @DiMackeycom and at DiMackey.com.
Magical Destinations in Faerie Magazine
I'm excited to show you a little piece I have in the spring issue of Faerie Magazine!
(It's part of a series on magical destinations, mine being the Fairy Glen.) 
The magazine makes a point of showcasing the work of incredibly talented artists like Frank Tjepkema (above) and Emma Van Leest (below). 
This is a gorgeous ad-free publication—it's unabashedly "girly," and I really admire the lush photography and design. I'd love to publish a longer piece with them at some point. 
(In case anyone is wondering—yes, the lamb-as-accessory thing does squick me out a bit.)
Why Knit Vegan?
My Empire of the Sun cardigan, made of a hemp-cotton-modal blend.While I was at Hawthornden last year I got into several conversations about veganism with my fellows, and on one occasion Colin asked, "Well, what are you knitting with?" At the time I was working on my vintage quickie 2.0, so I replied, "It's a bamboo-cotton blend." He seemed a bit disappointed that he hadn't caught me knitting with wool!
Recently I overheard a friend talking about A Verb for Keeping Warm, a yarn company based in California. My friend explained that they started out by salvaging fleeces; the sheep had been sheared before their slaughter, but the wool was going to waste. I didn't make this comment at the time—I'd have made myself that annoying vegan, you know—but it astounded me that no one gave a thought to the dead sheep! I'm all for salvaging materials, but there is something unnerving to me about destructive or dishonest acts to foster creative acts like spinning and knitting.How is the wool industry destructive or dishonest, you ask? Well, you are taking the hair off a sheep's back, which is a sort of thievery, if we are to be frank. Then we ship the animal off to the mutton factory when she stops producing sufficient wool. I know you want to believe that we are doing the sheep a favor by shearing her and that the animal lives out her days on a sunny green pasture, but that's just not reality. For more information about how sheep are actually treated, please read this PETA article. I also highly recommend listening to Colleen Patrick-Goudreau's podcast episode from 2010, "The Shearing of Sheep."Here's the trouble with wool: it may be "nature's perfect fiber," but it does not belong to us. Even if you assured me that the sheep you spin from live in your own backyard and that you will never sell them for meat, I will say "thanks but no thanks."
You may have noticed that I kept knitting with wool for awhile after I transitioned to a vegan diet, and I can only say that my knitting was a fairly large blind spot for me. There are many absolutely breathtaking wool and silk yarns out there, and it is all too tempting to push aside any uneasy thoughts of where it came from or how it was produced.And yes, it's true there aren't a ton of great vegan yarns out there...YET. But there are enough to get started with, for sure, and I hope to offer vegan knitting resources on this blog on a regular basis in the coming months and years. I'm particularly excited about Vegan Yarn out of British Columbia. (But I can't buy any more until I've knit some socks out of this lovely stuff!):
Bamboo-nylon sock yarn from Vegan Yarn.Another thought I've had is that if Vaute Couture can make gorgeous coats out of fabrics that can totally pass for wool, surely someone can do the same for knitting and weaving yarn!
And finally, I would like to offer you some proof that plant-based yarns can result in projects that are every bit as attractive as their wooly counterparts. Last month my new yellow cardigan made it to the front page of Ravelry!:
(Thanks to Kath for sending me that screenshot!)
Fleet Library, part 2
(Fleet Library, part 1.)Here are some pictures from the Visual + Material Resource Center upstairs at the Fleet Library:
And look, an old friend!: 
Fleet Library, part 1
In high school I dreamed of going to the Rhode Island School of Design. I wanted to be an artist of some stripe, only I couldn't get a portfolio together in time, so I wound up studying art history at NYU. That path led me to paint with words instead, and while I love this life, I do occasionally think about how things would look now if I'd had more courage and confidence as a high schooler. A few weeks ago Elizabeth invited me along to a reception and tour of the Fleet Library at RISD, and I got to indulge again in that little daydream. (Not that I'd have been able to use this library back in the day—it only opened in 2006.)The library is in a converted bank building, with all the best details and features intact. It is an absolute delight. 
The lovely folks at the Fleet had wine, apple cider, fresh fruit, and other nibbly things on offer, and Elizabeth and I chatted with our new friend Chelsea before the tour began. 
We left the library that evening feeling thoroughly inspired. I mention that "lost" dream of high school not because I care to dwell on "might have beens"—it is a waste of energy, for the most part—but because I haven't actually given up on it...(Coming Thursday: fun shots from the Material Resource Center and Picture Collection on the second floor!)
How to Value Creative Work
Recently I asked my friend Elizabeth what she thought about unpaid writing gigs that hold the potential for greater exposure. She looked at me in that wonderfully incredulous, no-nonsense way of hers.
"You do NOT write for free."
"No exceptions," she said.
Of course, I was free to do as I liked, but if I wanted to be taken seriously as a professional artist, I would need to say "thanks but no thanks" unless there were some sort of trade involved. I could write an essay in exchange for a massage, say, or a three-month supply of Fair Trade vegan chocolate. But to write for nothing, no exchange of energy, would be to disrespect my own talents, skills, and (ahem, expensive) education.
But what about start-up websites that may not have any advertising revenue yet with which to pay me? "You can leave those opportunities to people who just write for fun," Elizabeth replied. Part of me was resisting this advice, but I knew she was right.
Around the time we were having this conversation, my friend Kirsty (whom I met at Hawthornden last year, and will soon see at the Edinburgh launch of her debut story collection—for which I'll be doing another Q&A-contest, by the way!) reposted the following screenshot of two Craigslist ads, the second a response to the first:
Absolutely silly.
"You wouldn't go up to a chiropractor at a cocktail party and say, 'can you just make this quick adjustment for me?'" Elizabeth went on. "And if you did, the chiropractor would say, 'I can take care of that. Just call my office and make an appointment. I charge $150 an hour.'"
Why is it, then, that artists are so often expected to work for free? Is there a pervasive cultural perception that because "anyone" can "make art," that only a very few should make a living at it while the rest of us remain happy to "dabble"?
So tired of this complete lack of professional self-confidence. Seriously. SO tired of it. I just want to kill it with a fork. #stabbity— Sarah/Katherine (@pennyvixen) March 27, 2014
I have been sitting with Elizabeth's advice for the past week or two. I have thought over the times when I have made school appearances, asking and receiving less than I was worth in return for my time, energy, and knowledge, because at the time I felt that speaking for free was simply a gesture of goodwill from a writer who had "made it" with a Random House book deal. I offered a free writing workshop (eight two-hour sessions) a couple of years ago because I wanted teaching experience and figured it would be a great way to make my own opportunity. I don't regret any of those decisions, but I do feel that the time has come when I can no longer say, "sure, I'll come speak to your students for free." I have been very, very nice—so nice and so generous that I have not actually behaved like a professional. I'd committed to two (albeit quick) unpaid writing projects before I had that conversation with Elizabeth, but in future, if there isn't at least a modest honorarium involved (hey, I know school budgets are tight), I simply cannot do it. (I'm excepting the Skillshare because a free exchange of knowledge is the raison d'être—at least in our version of a skillshare. And in that case, I received even more than I gave.)
Whatever the reason artists are so often expected to labor for nothing beyond a quick thanks a lot, the fact is, we writers and musicians and artists need to put a price on the work we're doing. St. Martin's didn't pay me for Bones & All with a pat on the head, now, that's for sure! In any given exchange in the professional arena, one of us has to value my time and talent—and if it isn't me then it certainly won't be you.
What do you think? Am I empowering or limiting myself by writing solely for pay?
Skillshare recap, part 2
(Skillshare recap, part 1.)Two things: first, my creative writing workshop, and second, some reflections on helping to organize this marvelous event. 
How did I cram a creative writing seminar into fifty minutes? Well, I didn't. I thought of what would've been most useful to me as a new writer—the only way to do it is to do it!—and that's what I gave them. They filled a conference table and spilled out onto the couch, extra chairs, and the floor, and a few more settled themselves on a couch outside and across the hall at the café. The turnout was, like every other class at the Skillshare, absolutely stunning. (John had originally said he'd be thrilled if seven people showed up for each class!) Judy, one of my Squam buds, came with a friend.So I laid my photo and postcard collection on the table, unfurled my mind maps, and said, here's a prompt and here's a technique, and here's how I use them. I'll be here if you need me; otherwise I want to see you writing for fifty minutes straight.Most of the people in the room promptly got down to business, though I did detect a mild whiff of panic. A few students came up to me and whispered that they needed more guidance, so we riffed back and forth until they felt confident enough to put the words down without judging what was coming out. One man came in late, and when I explained what we were doing he said, "That's it?" He wrote down his email address so I could send him PDFs of my handouts (I'd printed 30 each, and run out), and left. Someone hard at work on her mind map nearby remarked that he'd utterly missed the point.That said, you can't connect with every student; your approach won't lead everyone to a place of inspiration, and I really need to keep that in mind as I gain more teaching experience.(By the way, I'll be posting the content from those handouts on the blog over the next couple of weeks.) 
Back in October, Amy Lou happened to run into John Massie during one of our Make Out! nights at the Armory. He told her he was planning the first-ever Somerville Skillshare and invited her to a planning meeting. I applied online to teach a writing class, then Amy Lou brought me along to that meeting at John's house, and before I knew it I was second-in-command on social media. It's been a busy few months leading up to that one immensely exciting (and gratifying!) day, and as I'm writing this, one full week later, I feel like I'm still winding down. My friend Jen coming all the way from Virginia to attend as many art classes as she possibly could only added to the thrill of it. (I'll blog about Jen's visit on Wednesday.)Since I landed in Boston last spring I've slowly been finding my way into pockets of community, writing- and yoga-wise, but joining the Skillshare planning team took my feeling of Boston-belonging to a whole new level. Everyone on the team is absolutely lovely, and I'm really looking forward to working with them on future events and getting to know them as friends. I'm so used to creating in solitude that I think this experience was even more life changing—or, to be more precise, life expanding—for me than it may have been for the others. We put in the work, hoping for a modest turnout, and our efforts were returned to us a thousand-fold—or at least it feels like that. Eight hundred people turned out for the event, and we'd have considered the Skillshare a success with only a quarter of that. It was exhilarating to see people enjoying their classes, the music, the camaraderie and the free samples of Slumbrew, and to know that I'd had a part to play in making it happen. It makes me wonder what further awesomeness I can dream up, on my own or as part of a team. 
Armory, 9:45am. Photo by John. When I joined the group I joked that I was an honorary Somervillian, but I'm thrilled to say that come May I'll be a REAL resident of Somerville. I'm moving in with my friend Kelly, who has a beautiful attic apartment not far from Davis Square. I'll have space to cook and make art and, you know, nest, and I'll blog more regularly about all that good stuff. (Kelly and I met at yoga last summer—she saw me wearing a Vaute Couture "V is for Vegan" tank and came over to talk to me after class, and since then she's become my closest vegan friend in Boston. You can just imagine how over-the-moon we are to be sharing a kitchen!)But back to the Skillshare—I'll close out with a few more photos: 
Miranda Aisling, author of Don't Make Art, Just Make Something (read her Q&A here). 
Eric Tondreau's contact staff class. 
Liz Corkery designed our gorgeous posters along with teaching the intro to screenprinting class. Many more photos on the Skillshare Facebook page.
Skillshare recap, part 1
Salsa dancing with Sam Newland. It was WONDERFUL.
I would like to write a proper recap, but my brain is still a little bit fried, so I'll save it for next week. In the meantime, here are some tweets and photos to give you an idea of just how well it went.
Emily Garfield's imaginary mapmaking class is immensely popular – and they're making awesome stuff #SOMSkillsharepic.twitter.com/CdUzcT2GW3— SomervilleSkillshare (@SomervilleSS) March 2, 2014
Pics from @SomervilleSS are coming in! Check out this great one of me @aprlao+@audrey1653 all sporting #DMAJMS pride pic.twitter.com/0fDBkJeXYj — Miranda Aisling (@MirandaAisling) March 4, 2014
Yup, that's @Slumbrew giving out samples! #brewlove#localfavorites#SOMSkillsharepic.twitter.com/i6CXtxJaDW — SomervilleSkillshare (@SomervilleSS) March 2, 2014
#SOMSkillshare mastermind John Massie and his adorably fluffy pup: http://t.co/YttHkGANx4 — SomervilleSkillshare (@SomervilleSS) March 2, 2014
The #SOMSkillshare is so hot, we had to evacuate the Armory! (Fortunately classes were only interrupted for 5ish minutes.) — Camille DeAngelis (@cometparty) March 2, 2014
#SOMskillshare let me fulfill my dream: to make my girlfriend a bouquet of duct-tape flowers. They made her smile! #happygf@SomervilleSS — Evil Librarian (@evil_librarian) March 2, 2014
So, the #SOMSkillshare was a big success – lots to build on, lots to celebrate. Proud to have been an organizer for the inaugural event. — Those Who Wander (@ThoseWW) March 3, 2014
Great job by John Massie & everyone in the #Somerville community at today's #SOMSkillshare! pic.twitter.com/Sfv7ig8jNR— Mike Connolly (@MikeConnollyMA) March 2, 2014
So gratifying to see a roomful writers scribbling away at my #SOMSkillshare class earlier this afternoon! http://t.co/20RuFTnueK— Camille DeAngelis (@cometparty) March 2, 2014
We love you @FlatbreadSville. pic.twitter.com/p84izilSLj— SomervilleSkillshare (@SomervilleSS) March 2, 2014
Best way to end the day MT@OneBrickBoston: Winding down from a busy day of #volunteering at @SomervilleSS w/some @Slumbrew! #Somskilllshare— One Brick - Melissa (@OneBrickMelissa) March 2, 2014
More soon! (And in the meantime, there are loads of great photos on the Facebook page.)
Where We Make: Sarah Greenman
I'm thrilled to be hosting artist Sarah Greenman on my blog today! Sarah and I got in touch through Squam and I'm so looking forward to meeting her at the Fall 2014 session. I bet you'll find her workspace as inspiring (and, yes, enviable!) as I do.
***
Hi all! I’m Sarah Greenman and I work from home in a converted garage. It is absolutely, hands-down, without-a-doubt my most favorite place in the whole wide world. (Whoever thought I’d be saying this about a garage!)
I do a lot of different things and need a big space to accommodate my various enterprises. I’m a freelance artist, writer, blogger, actor and photographer. This means I usually have multiple things happening in my studio at once. I also have two young children, Walker (6) and Charlie (3), who love to join me in my studio while I work.
A two-car garage allows me to work multilaterally without having to constantly clean up after myself. I have divided my studio into separate areas. One entire wall is devoted to painting replete with taped butcher paper on the walls and drop cloths underfoot. When I make art, I get messy.
One corner of the garage looks more like a traditional home office and this is where I write and edit photos. A large antique breakfast table sits at the center of the room and usually serves as a catch-all for papers, files, a sewing machine, task lighting, lunch left-overs and various statuary.
I also have some storage and seating so that I can stuff everything away and make guests comfortable when hosting workshops or open studio tours. Since I have two little ones, I am constantly creating work during the in-between moments. Essays, photo shoots and paintings occur between diapers, dinner and impromptu fort-making. To have a transitional space that allows me to waltz in and pick up where I left off is essential to completing work.
In my best moments, this space serves as a nest where I lay, hatch and groom my most inspired ideas. In my worst moments, it’s a space where I can crash, burn, cry and dissolve without upsetting the natural order of my home.
Thanks, Camille, for having me! You can find me making art at www.sarahgreenman.com or blogging at www.maisonboheme.com and www.helpcharlieheal.com.
Empire of the Sun
The best part of being a knitter is loving something you made so much you never want to take it off....And, admittedly, the compliments. It's always fun when a non-knitter is completely gobsmacked when I tell them I made what I'm wearing.Thanks to my dear Elizabeth for all these gorgeous photographs! Having a confident photographer take FO pics was a real treat. 
The buttons are from Jo-Ann—I'd been hoping to find the perfect vintage buttons on Etsy, but I really wanted turquoise and I couldn't find any in the right size. 
The pattern is Gudrun's Empire. The King Charles brocade pattern hits that sweet spot of easy yet impressive, and I picked up a few new tricks too (the bias bind-off and the i-cord bind-off around the collar). My Ravelry project page (with detailed notes) is here. There are definitely more designs by Gudrun in my knitting future—maybe Laar next? (See Anne's gorgeous version!) 
Hempathy is, like all plant-based fibers I suppose, advertised as a warm-weather yarn; but I have been wearing this cardi and my Pomegranate sweater and just a tank top underneath, and with my Vaute Couture coat I'm perfectly toasty. (I still have to blog my Pomegranate photos, which Elizabeth took on the RISD beach back in November!) 
(You can tell in this shot that I didn't pick up the wraps. Haha. Knerd alert!) 
I will leave you with this hilarious piece of over-the-topness (although the ladies' costumes are definitely not vegan!):
The Somerville Skillshare Kickstarter campaign!
As you know, I'm teaching an intro to creative writing class at the first-ever Somerville Skillshare, and this week we launched a Kickstarter campaign to keep the event 100% free. We're hoping to raise two grand for space rental, class materials, and publicity expenses (which feels totally do-able—fingers crossed!) Many of us teachers are offering private lessons for a pledge of $125, and mine consists of a two-hour session of writing coaching (which I'd ideally format as two one-hour in-person meetings plus reading time, although Skype or Google Hangout would work as well. You certainly don't have to live in the Boston area to take advantage of this!)
I especially want to see us meet our fundraising goal because the primary organizer, John Massie, has been working with superhuman dedication to pull this thing together. In case you're still wondering what the heck a Skillshare is, I want to share an email John sent out to friends and family today:
As most of you know, I'm from Somerville. One thing that's always impressed me about this city is its diversity and the number of creative people who live here, from artists to hobbyists to crafters to just...funky individuals with weird stuff going on. It's one of the many things that gives this city its character, and something that I've always loved about this place (and probably one of the reasons I ended up back here after graduating college a few years ago).
So last summer, I heard about this thing that's happened in a few cities called a "Skillshare." It's basically a day where a random assortment of people from a given community gather in one location to hang out and teach each other interesting stuff. I thought to myself, "it would pretty darn cool if something like this could happen in Somerville." And if it can happen in Brooklyn and Seattle, why not Somerville, a 75,000 strong community chock full of artists and creative types? I bounced the idea of a few people (i.e. my Dad, my brother, and my roommates) and got some encouraging responses.
So on a muggy August day I walked into the Somerville Armory (a community education space and performance hall located near Davis Square) knocked on a few doors until I met the Director (an awesome lady named Lea), and pitched the idea. She thought it sounded interesting. Twenty minutes later, I walked out, feeling both excited and slightly foolish, because I had just written a check for many hundreds of dollars to book the entire building for a random day in March, 2014. I was committed.
Fast forward six months. Since that day--and many email blasts, excited conversations, new friends, headbangs against the wall, late night pizza deliveries, daydreams at work, tantrums about HTML, "oh shit!" moments, group meetings and furious notetakings later—this idea is actually happening.
In fact, it's just not happening, it is happenin'. We've got 8 talented, committed organizers (Danielle, Spencer, Paula, Camille, K.Adam, Isaac, Sarah, Courtney, and Melissa! Y'all rock.), a fancy-pants Wordpress website, nearly 40 local teachers lined up to teach nearly 40 free classes on everything from bookbinding to salsa dancing to stock investing, 3 local food sponsors (Flatbread, Slumbrew and Taza Chocolate), 10+ volunteers lined up from One Brick, a few articles written about us in some local publications like Somerville Beat (and more on the way!), a modest-but-growing Facebook platform, some unique, original content about some of Somerville's most interesting residents, and even a short video put together by one of the organizers that features nothing but original footage of our teachers. It's been a wild ride, and a ton of fun, and we're completely making it up as we go (which has perhaps been the most rewarding part). And we have absolutely no idea if anyone is going to show up to the event.
Here's the conclusion to this story. Somerville Skillshare is happening in less than three weeks, on March 2nd, 2014, at the Somerville Armory. And I'd like to ask for your help making it happen.
So if you can chip in a few bucks, we'll all be incredibly grateful. I hope to see you at the Armory on March 2nd! My class is on at 1pm in the yoga studio (fittingly enough, haha).
Somerville Skillshare!
Just a quick post to announce that I'll be teaching a creative writing class at the first-ever Somerville Skillshare at the Armory on Sunday, March 2, 2014! The event is free and open to all (not just residents of Somerville). I found out about the Skillshare through my dear friend Amy Lou, applied to teach, and wound up on the planning committee, which has been a ton of fun. The Skillshare is the brainchild of John Massie, a lifelong Somerville resident who is really passionate about building community through knowledge sharing. Sharing the joy I find in storytelling in such a fun exploratory setting is going to be a hugely rewarding experience for me.
Read my Q&A here (in which I discuss the philosophy and goals of the class) and then head over to the Classes page to see what other modules you might like to take. I'm particularly excited for Emily Garfield's Imaginary Mapmaking and Liz Corkery's Intro to Screenprinting (though I could go on, there are loads of classes I hope I have time to sit in on, like windowsill gardening and lacto-fermentation.) [Update, 2024: links removed, website defunct!]
If you don't live in the Boston area, I'd be so grateful if you could pass the word to any friends of yours who are local. Very excited for March 2nd!
Get psyched! MT @ThoseWW: Excited to watch this #Somerville event unfold on March 2nd / http://t.co/PF9y8U3ZuL #Skillshare @SomervilleSS— SomervilleSkillshare (@SomervilleSS) January 15, 2014
The gift that keeps on giving
Knitting with Vanessa.
Lately I've been giving knitting lessons to the ESL students here. I can't tell you how satisfying it is to watch them, a few minutes after the click happens and they nail down the motions, teaching their friends who've shown up late how to do what they've only just learned.
I'm also doing my part to eliminate the annoying stereotype that men don't knit (or crochet). Daniel knit the most perfect garter stitch scarf I've ever seen—a Christmas present for his girlfriend who is patiently waiting for his return to Colombia.
Daniel weaving in the ends with a crochet hook.
Last year at this time, I taught my dear friend Amiee how to knit. At least that's how she sees it—as I see it, I gave her some pointers, but it seemed to me that she already knew how. She insists she only knew how to crochet. At any rate, she's been stitching up a storm over the past year, and when I saw her in Providence the other weekend she presented me with a gorgeous shawlet-scarf (the pattern is Saroyan by Liz Abinante).
The color choice was a mindful one, as it's been an ongoing joke-on-the-square with us that I need more orange in my life. I never expected my teaching to come back to me in such a perfect way. (Not to mention useful—Amiee knew I needed a vegan scarf!) This is the first thing anyone has ever knit for me, and I'm so grateful!
(And I love how this has been a blog post entirely about other people's knitting.)