Thursday, August 4, 2011

Knitting in Fine Art

by Kelly

Looking for ideas for a new header, I did a search for 'fine art knitting'. Ambitious, ain't I? Thought I would share the beautiful images. All from WikiPaintings

Portrait of Madame Boissiere Knitting


  Portrait of Mademoiselle Boissiere Knitting - Gustave Caillebotte
Completion Date: 1877
Genre: portrait
Technique: oil
Material: canvas
Dimensions: 65 x 80 cm
Gallery: Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, Texas, USA

Scheveningen Woman Knitting


Completion Date: 1881
Place of Creation: Netherlands
Style: Realism


The Knitting Lesson


Completion Date: 1869
Style: Realism
Technique: oil
Material: canvas
Dimensions: 101.3 x 83.2 cm
Gallery: S
 

The Knitting Shepherdess



Start Date: c.1856
Completion Date: 1857
Style: Realism
Technique: pastel
Material: paper
Dimensions: 33.7 x 25.4 cm

 Something I noticed while looking at portraits of knitters - they all have terrible posture. My physical therapist would be patting all those slumped shoulders and saying   "Relax, now. You're beautiful and you should let the world see that."  (She even gave my husband permission to do this! I had to explain that he has a different approach - He sneaks up behind me, says "Posture monster!" and tickles my sides until I straighten up.)

I could have saved myself a lot of trouble by going to charm school all those years ago. Although, if someone told me to balance books on my head, I'd likely be sneaking one off the pile so I could read it.

And now a random YouTube video moment. No, that's not me,  but this is a great example of the sort of geeky talents that I especially admire in others.




 

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Ninety-five Degree Afghan

by Kelly


Oddball that I am, I crocheted this during our recent (and ongoing) heatwave. Ninety-five degrees in the shade? Sounds like a perfect time to  make a ripple afghan in cool blues and grays.

I do like how these pictures turned out, though. The sunlight shining through the holes in the afghan looks just like sunlight sparkling on water. Note to self - from now on, take pictures only on scorching summer days with 98 percent humidity and glaring sunlight.




 And on cold winter days I will curl up in the comfort of my ninety-five degree afghan and remember the sweltering weeks of summer when I made it.

On another note, the above pictures were taken on our screened back porch. This is the only part of our house that I have ever loved. I hate the poky little kitchen, the leaky roof, the bizarre electrical wiring, the partial chimney from a long ago fireplace hidden in the utility closet. But the back porch is a little bug free haven where we can escape and pretend we are living in some breezy vacation locale.

Of course, even here there is room for improvement. Here's another view of the porch.


I would like to think that this picture expresses something profound about the ephemeral nature of the creations of the human race, and the overwhelming urge of the nature to sweep away the old and begin anew. But in all honesty, I think all it says is that it's time to nag my husband about getting out the weed whacker.