New brushes

For my birthday this year Mr E+L said he wanted to buy me something at the art shop. It had been years since I last picked up a pencil but then, a month or two ago - in an ongoing attempt to chase away the fog of PND, to connect with the increasingly recalcitrant 5yo in a shared creative way, to just give in to a very ancient-feeling itch, I don't know - I suddenly started again. So he said, do you need any new materials?

Proper paper and paint brushes, I replied. Off we went one afternoon (because I had to choose myself), and the buying was so very, so hilariously, representative of where we are now: 

A week late  (because the biggest boy had us all marooned at home with chickenpox on my birthday itself), two small children, bribery snacks smudged into the corners of their mouths. As soon as I walked into the shop it felt like all the ones that had gone before: a treasure trove of smells and textures, instantly safe. Except previously I'd always been alone, and now there were three other people with me, two of whom couldn't wait to discover. Less doable for the small one (not that he didn't try, swipey hands at the ready), but the big one was enthralled. I set him to work with the paintbrushes and water at one of those Japanese calligraphy practice tablets while I tried, as quickly as baby-time allowed, to think.

It was rushed, infuriating, funny, exhilerating to share "my" space with them. I came away with three beautiful new brushes and a fat pad of paper. Oh and a set of watercolour pencils for the Bean. He's since drawn a whole series of alien busses with them. Because, why not?

As for me, I can't tell you how good it feels to draw again. I hadn't realised how much I had missed the timber smell of pencils or the touch of the paper, until they were in front of me again. It's almost like an awkward dance of courtship: I know you deeply, but I've lost the fluency and confidence with which to handle you properly. The only thing to do is practice. 

At the moment I'm using Derwent Inktense pencils - you draw and then go over them with water. I'm sketching new designs in them, but I'm also doing lots of colour studies. I feel a great need for coherence, right now, and I feel my portofolio so far is all over the place. Which I have been too, of course (5 countries and 2 continents in two decades!) but now it's time become more grounded. 

This is what came out for the rest of this year's new releases. I'm surprised at just how "grounded" - soil, earth, foliage with a splash of sky - they are, but I think I like them.  The idea for the little colour cards, by the way, is one I have unashamedly stolen from Ingrid at IngThings, one of my favourite blogs and corresponding instagram accounts. A while ago she was selling the cutest sets of them in her webshop but, having failed to secure one, I decided to make my own. They're very addictive to do.

So now I'm using these cards to help me plan what I hope will become something akin to a collection. The fibres I'm working with don't match the current season (always two ahead, as a rule), but I feel that come winter the pretty pinks and lilacs will serve as good reminder of what inspired me, this beautiful but uncharacteristically warm spring (has the weather been as crazy where you are? We are heading towards drought, in Sweden of all places).

Colour crushing in Devon

Colour, especially of the eyeball-pleasing saturated kind, is a rare thing in Sweden at this time of year. As I've mentioned before, the diffuse light and stalking shadows do create their own particular beauty, but the predominant hue is brown. The camera mostly hibernates, just like its owner.

Imagine my delight, then, when our Christmas in Devon this year was surprisingly colourful. Look away from the glitter and baubles and oh! The green was still lush, a few flowers already in bloom, SO many pretty houses and boats. 

I'm not sure why I was surprised - although we also live by the coast in the very southern tip of Sweden, a difference in latitude of more than 10 degrees was always likely to leave a bit of a mark on the landscape. And until the post-New Year freeze kicked in, it had probably been a remarkably mild winter, too. Whatever the reason, there was plenty on offer to please the lens. 

Incidentally, one colour I can't get enough of at the moment is blush pink. I think it's just perfect for this time of year; soft enough for winter's mutedness but not so subtle you'd overlook it, pretty and uplifting without yet being too optimistically spring-like (we still have a loooong wait until spring...)

It started with a detail here and there, until I went full-on pink socks.

I finished them just before we saw out the year, and I can't stop twiddling my toes and staring at them. The pattern is Aussie Sunshine by Clare Devine, and I used one skein of Coop Knits Socks Yeah yarn in Ammolite as well as a tiny bit of Danburite. 

But that is by the by. Otherwise our Christmas was quiet and predictable and safe. We ate too much, played games, knitted. Well, I knitted. When the Bean started tripping on the excess attention, sugar and presents, we hauled him outside to look at the boats with (what I think is) his coolest gift: a pair of pocket binoculars. Proper ones, too, not toy ones. 

I also made him his own Lomma Hat, a two-tone version that he surprisingly wanted without a "pompy" on top and didn't take off once all Christmas day. If that red looks a bit lurid, that's because it is, but he marched into our local yarn store and picked it out his very self, so I wasn't going to argue. Foolishly, I argued over how many consecutive slices of M&S penguin-shaped sponge cake were acceptable instead. 

Post-Easter Thoughts

More ramblings than thoughts, if I'm honest. Our 10-day holiday is over, and so starts the usual dance with the inbox, the to-do lists (always multiples), the various mismatched socks and half-finished crochet projects dotted around the house. What to tackle first? Slowly does it, now: have another cup of tea and a think.

• It's been an odd holiday, in many ways. Just like at Christmas we decided to stay here in Sweden, just the three of us, and have mini-adventures. Except that Mr E+L got struck down with the flu on the very first day, and so the only adventuring for a good 5 days involved me trying to entertain a Bean solo. It also involved lots of cake. 
• A holiday of introspection, too. With close family in Brussels, last Tuesday was a very, very raw day. 
• We pared it back down to simple, slow days. One day out to the forest, a very happy Bean. What else matters? The newspapers were ignored, for which I was thankful. 

• The Bean carried on Beaning at breakneck speed. Chatting about things like how to tempt the ducks from the pond nearby into our bath, and then on Saturday he discovered the joy of cycling with a purpose: go to the supermarket to buy chocolate. Yes please. 
• The crochet plans took an unexpected twist, too. Yarn I've ordered for the Pretty in Peach Sweater Dress seems to have gone AWOL and the neckline of the Bretonbone Top just will. not. behave. I don't like necklines, I've decided. I do like scarves and fluffy yarn though, and pretty littles violas from the balcony. Because, you know, SPRING! 

• We finally replaced the kick-you-off-every-five-minutes, slow-as-sin internet connection with a shiny high-speed one. Yes this was a First World Problem, and yes it makes me happy.
• It also occurred to me that creativity begets creativity. And vice-versa: with a little voice always in my ear and photo-bombing hands nearby, opportunities to stop, to think, to take photos were rare. After a few days, so were the flashes of inspiration, and by the end of the holiday I could barely string a sentence together. 
• I did manage a little blog reading though, so if you find yourself with five minutes to spare I enjoyed The Anti-News by Emma, Spring is here by Juliane, and The Wisdom of Youth by Carie. As you can see, I'm in the mood for light-hearted! 

Anyway. I´d better get on to those to-do lists then. Always multiples. Have a good one, if you still happen to be on your hols.

A Yarnie's Take on Pantone Colour of the Year 2016

In a first, Pantone has picked not one but two colours as Pantone Colour of the Year for 2016: Rose Quartz and Serenity.

If you've been keeping track of my designs you'll know I'm not really a pastels sort of girl. I don't dislike them - I just think their subtlety is a bit lost on me! As with all the colours Pantone picks, however, obviousness is not part of the game. What matters is your own interpretation and it's fascinating to see what designers, stylists and artists across the world come up with (you can keep track of all that on Pantone's dedicated Pinterest board). 

To figure out how to make Rose Quartz and Serenity work for me, I decided to just have a play. A hint of yellow, my favourite notebooks... 

The yarns pictured are by Vinnis Colours (blue) and MoYa (Pink), both kindly sent to me by Scaapi, and Sirdar (yellow). Although I don't think of these colours as "me", I do really like the softness of the picture and I think the palette would be beautiful for a crochet blanket or a delicate shawl. 

Still, more colour faffery was needed (I know, my job is really hard). As I rearranged my cups and yarns it suddenly clicked:

pastels + neutrals + bolder colours = Ombre! Ole! 

I really, really like this palette. I'm still thinking about what to make with it - any suggestions? - but whatever it is, it'll be fun. The pink yarn is by MoYa, as above, and the coral yarn is by Nurturing Fibres. The jute rope is one of many rolls I picked up at a gardening store!

How are you approaching Rose Quartz and Serenity?