An artist needs limits

When I went to school, I studied fine art and english. I left school believing that I was an artist and a writer, although I had very little evidence to support either point of view. My Uncle Tupper has always said that you may use the professional term “writer” or “artist” when you have paid the rent that way… so I guess that at this time in my life I am entitled to use both terms, though having not painted for a few years, I no longer think I am an artist or…maybe I still am. Can one stop once one has started? (By the way, I think this combination of visual artist and writer is really common…anyone else out there have their interest in the arts leak through various mediums?)

For many years I painted, I drew, I had some shows, I sold some paintings… I would have starved had the income been from art alone, and I’m really glad that Tuppers definition didn’t include paying the rent multiple times… but it was validating on some level to just hang up art and ask people to look at it. It would have been more validating if I had sold fewer paintings to my relatives and more to complete strangers, but you can’t have everything. When I was very young, still in school, I was a realist.

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Not unusual. Many artists begin as realists, it’s the safest form of painting and drawing, and certainly the easiest to put in public. Both the artist and the viewer can tell (with very little emotional or intellectual effort) whether or not it is good. If it is good, it looks real. That foot really looks like a foot….good art. That hand looks like an octopus in heat…bad art. The limit of asking the artist to render real life accurately fences them in and makes making art easier.

Now, many artists continue to use realism as their limit for the rest of their careers. Nothing wrong with that. Obviously Michelangelo and Jules Bastian-Lepage were not any less great for sticking with realism for their whole careers. I however, did not stick to it very well. As of 5 years ago it was obvious (probably because of the shaky grasp on reality that all mothers have during those trying early years.) that I was beginning to enjoy the idea and images around fracturing realism. I still needed a limit (as I believe most artists do) to avoid being overwhelmed by an idea and to keep it reined it enough to make it possible.

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It’s a snowflake. Somewhat departed from reality, reined in by a monochromatic palette (one colour) and strictly controlled by the lines.

Forgive these photos by the way. They are digital images of old photos of paintings long gone. They lack the detail and straight lines that I like to believe were present in the paintings.

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This one’s trees. (Trust me. It is.)

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Mosques. You can see that by the time I got to Mosques, I was obviously using only the suggestion of realism as my limit and relying more heavily on geometric form.

It should come as no surprise then, that this:

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Was next. Pure geometric limit with no realism left at all. Just colour and line.

That limit was eventually pushed even further to this one:

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Which is really just a colour study, using only a palette of colour as the limit.

(I admit that I didn’t even control myself entirely there…there’s a gold in that painting that is nail polish ripped off from one of the kids.)

Where am I going with all of this? Glad you asked. (I was starting to wonder myself there for a minute.) My point is that every artist limits their work in some way. Even the most avant garde artist bent on breaking down every perceived barrier or limit ends up needing to fence an idea in eventually, or they would never be able to call a piece “finished” and move on. Since I am not painting right now, but writing, I satisfy a great deal of my visual need for art and colour with knitting. What I am knitting is important to me, not just because it is expressive (and making something always is, even if it’s a washcloth) but because it keeps me in touch with colour, flow, line and artistic limits. Knitting has a natural set of limits. (It needs to be done on needles, it needs to be done with a continuous “thing” be it yarn or string or chain…) and it gives me a chance to divine new limits for myself, and sometimes I don’t even know what they are until I’ve been doing it for a while.

Apparently, and I should have noticed this some time ago, or certainly when Ryan pointed out to me at the Market at Madrona that what little stash I was buying was the same colourway over and over again, just in different forms…

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When I got to choose my colourway in the mitten class:

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When I got to choose my own colours in the plying class:

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or as I have been knitting the Bohus, I should have noticed that I have a new limit I am working within.

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Clearly I am choosing to express myself these days, by working within the limited palette of

Bohus70S0206

Appliance colours from the 70’s.

Sigh. I was hoping for more depth.

313 thoughts on “An artist needs limits

  1. 70’s appliance colors are the bomb! So natural and synthetic at the same time. Makes me want tuna fish casserole with potato chips on it.
    Jenny

  2. thankyou for bringing home the point in such a humourous way. I happen to like coloured appliances.

  3. Creativity seems to foster creativity. It’s a courage thing to. I knit and that emboldens me to try to bead. I wouldn’t make the jump to auto repair. However, someone who was good at building with wood might make the jump to metalworking. I’ve never once met a writer who justs writes. Many write primarily, but they play an instrument, draw, act, or do something else. It’s the nature of the beast.
    Love the paintings and the sweater.

  4. wow…maybe the yellow is craving for spring early? it looks more like sunshine than appliance colors from the 70’s and I still remember the 70’s – probably better than you do
    Sharon

  5. Since they are my favorite colors, and the colors I have been working in for awhile I love them. Not that I consider myself anything like an artist.

  6. That’s ok, its all about the names: the harvest gold, mustard, avacado, and beige of yesterday are the harvester, gold coast, relentless olive, and vanillin of today!

  7. Hahaha! Oh, dear.
    Me, too. (But I went from brunette to redhead, and suddently stopped using jewel tones, and on to…70s appliance colors.)
    (I’m glad I wasn’t drinking coffee when I read this.)

  8. That’s mission-accomplished on the laugh-out-loud in cubicle-land.
    And that’s a lot of hyphens. Must be my artisitic delimiter.

  9. Yes, but the *good* appliance colors from the 70s. I looked at an apartment once that still had its bright orange countertops. Yards ‘n yards of ’em, reflecting the sunlight to create an orange kitchen all the way up to the ceiling. (I kept looking.)
    Hmm….my palette seems to be heather grey. Could use a little avocado, don’t you think?

  10. HA! That was great. I didn’t even see that last two lines coming!
    I find my creativity flowing into all sorts of mediums. I paint, knit, crochet, make jewelry, make masks, sculpt(not as much), calligraphy and I’m definitely interested in learning to spin. And that doesn’t include the fact that I’m an actor/dancer/musician. I keep being drawn to art and expression. In fact, I often wonder if I should focus on one or two things instead of spreading out across the spectrum. But then I’m like, “Nah.”

  11. Don’t knock appliance colours from the 70’s – retro is always in! I think we all go through phases in terms of colour choice. I totally agree with your comment of multiple mediums as well, because I find that when I take the time to work in more than one creative medium, that my level of creativity and inspiration increases over all. It’s like they feed each other, even if they seem unrelated.

  12. I know exactly what you mean about limits. I think it’s one of my favorite things about throwing pottery on a wheel. You can make whatever you want, as long as it starts off round. So much freedom in a limit…

  13. Honey, 2 words for you. Andy Warhol. Do you see where I am going with this? No? Well, I do. (and I tend to think the entire world should just automatically understand.)
    You have an avacado green refridgerator don’t you…

  14. Colors. Yes I too have the same colors that I am drawn to lately. Aside from the dragon/dinosaur from knitty that I completed last month, I have been staying within black red and forest green. I’ve been buying purples black and blues in my last yarn purchases but for some reason my mood dictates what colors I actually knit with. At least you can categorize your colors! LOL I love your blog and book, Knitting Rules!!! Knit on!

  15. That’s our Stephanie. I was sitting there–and I am the daughter of a modern-art dealer!–just holding my breath, barely breathing, going, wow. Wow! Gorgeous! Wow, Stephanie! LOOK at those paintings!
    And then the totally unexpected brought-up-short laugh-out-loud at the end. Oh. My. You are GOOD, woman, you know that? At everything you touch.

  16. *reverent silence*
    I am humbled by your creativity. Some of those colors I would have looked at and passed on, thinking that one couldn’t combine them successfully.
    And you have.
    Over, and over, and over again! 🙂

  17. I haven’t seen orange with gold fleck/veins in it yet, so you haven’t fully hit the 70’s colorscheme.
    I was going to comment on the snowflake painting, but really it matches all of my WIPs so I don’t know if I should.

  18. I find myself drawn to the same colors over and over again as well. However the one think about knitting, I get such a variety of color exposure from other sources that I find myself wanting to break away from the mold once in a while.
    I am awed by your many artistic endeavors.

  19. I’ve noticed that most of my stash is made up of greens, blues, purples and shades of pink and red. On the other hand, all my clothes are too. I never buy yellow or orange or brown for myself, so when I knit something for someone who wants earth tones, I immediately find a good home for the leftovers.

  20. What I wouldn’t give to get a nice green fridge right now…(actually my Dad’s got a green one & a brown one still!)
    Nothing wrong with liking green-orange toned analogous color theme. That’s my comfort zone too.

  21. Man, if I didn’t like you so much to keep giving you shit about not showing up in the Quad Cities yet (keyword being “yet”), I’d be completely intimidated by yet another talent you possess.

  22. Yes, I think the combination of visual artist and writer accounts for the many knit-bloggers out there–and is just the tip of the iceberg on crossing creative lines.

  23. Thank you so much for the wonderful out-loud laugh! Oh my goodness… I like those colors too, and I was waiting you to explain this in some grand artistic philosophical way… I assume next, after 70s appliance colors, you’ll move on to leg-warmers of the 80s colors 🙂 I really like some of those paintings! …you’re so impressive

  24. Oh boy. I can’t begin to tell you how deeply I relate to this post. I could have written it. I did, in fact, write something very similar about colors on my blog awhile back, but I haven’t voiced my perpetual “am I still an artist if I’m mostly writing” question, in all its nasty little permutations, in that venue yet. It was a blessing to see your words today and know that someone else understands the dilemma. Many, many thanks.

  25. Okay, now that I can breathe again and I’ve cleaned up the tea that came out my nose on that last line, I will say that yes, my interest in art takes various forms. Like you, I am a writer–but of a very different kind. I write plays, and had given up in frustration with my current state of progress about 18 months ago (very good for getting more knitting done). This week, I have decided to plunge right back in with an intensive workshop and massive rewrites of the piece I last left. I was so entranced by what you were saying, seeing your progression as a visual artist, comparing your musings re the necessity of limits to my own situation, then I was blindsided by the 70’s appliance comment! Moral: Most important thing for me to do at this point is not take myself so @#&(! seriously! Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reminder.
    P.S. “Pure geometric limit with no realism left at all” is now my screen saver.
    P.P.S. My next play will have spinning as its central metaphor. Perhaps a loose retelling of Arachne and Minerva’s story? See, it all really IS related somehow.
    P.P.P.S. The colors in my 70s appliances were not gorgeous like your Bohus. Trust me on this.

  26. I was not thinking appliance colors of the 70’s when I was looking at your pictures (although, we had the avocado green refrigerator). I was thinking of the colors of autumn, a season of changes.

  27. Stephanie, you are such a delightfully funny woman. You are an artist, and an artisan, and your writing is pretty decent too…. ;^)
    Love ALL the paintings btw, and knew those were trees before I read that they were trees.

  28. Color is a tricky thing because it speaks to us so subconsciously. I can’t tell you how many times I have left the house in a monochromatic color pallette.(usually purples or pinks) I love the colors you’ve chosen. They work so well together. . . especially Bohus (sp?)

  29. Love the art. Are the snoflake and trees still for sale?
    And I did notice that the wrist warmer was remarkably similar to the socks in the “Harloty” colorway.

  30. Brilliant post! Wish I could remember the literary device you used (so I could sound all smart and sassy). Your writing is like your art, unexpected and refreshing. Thanks!

  31. I really like the early paintings. (I’m an engineer, things too much without definition make my head hurt.)
    As for colors, I think most people neatly stick themselves in one part of the spectrum and seldom pick colors outside of it. Even if someone has loads of different colors in their stash, I think they have a comfort zone – blues, or greens, or reds, or 70’s appliances… which made me laugh so hard I nearly fell out of my chair 🙂

  32. Great punchline!! Like several others, I think of them as earth/natural/autumn colors. I’ve noticed that your sweaters tend to be in those colors. I like the colors, but they are not flattering on me, but they look good on you. I’m more with the blues, reds, etc.

  33. Too funny! I guess I was limiting my thinking to your current color palette being that of spring and warmth, given the dearth of warmth in Canada in the winter. Silly me! It’s still beautiful, even if it is appliance colors from the 70s.

  34. Those colours you’re limiting yourself to look like warm colours. Earth colours. Fire colours. The colours of commitment and passion.
    And I don’t remember any deep blue appliances in the 70s. Pity.

  35. Your Bohus brought tears to my eyes. FYI.
    The bright sunshine yellow that you’ve gotten to is breathtaking.
    Or maybe I just need more sleep.

  36. Thanks for sharing your artwork! As an artist, I’ve been doing almost all abstract things… it’s nice to know that you don’t think this is the easy way out. It always seemed that way to me, but I liked it so I didn’t care.
    Those appliance colors were popular for a reason. It’s not like appliances are the original source of that color.

  37. I think the sweater colors are gorgeous!!
    And that snowflake painting…I’d have begged to buy it if you hadn’t said it was long gone…
    *pines for the snowflake painting or a reasonable likeness*

  38. I love the colours! Besides, retro is trendy! We had a green avocado fridge and stove for years. Its apart of my past and I think its cool!

  39. I noticed the colorway a while ago. I figured it was just that you’re an “autumn.” Everything I knit is pink-grey-blue: I’d look like I had liver disease, if I wore your colorway.
    Like your Cubist-period paintings, by the way. Good stuff.
    Great punch line.

  40. So much to say, so little space! The paintings are lovely, and I have to say, I could see the snowflake & tree images in the abstract before I read what they were. I also tend to stick with a certain range of colors at a time too. However, my limit seems to have lasted my lifetime.

  41. Don’t apologize for the colors you love. If I could, I’d go around in Van Gogh yellow, warm olive green and rust all the time, but they’d leave my slightly-olive complexion with all the rosy, healthy glow of an old piece of Parmesan.
    For the sake of not being mistaken for a cadaver, I wear my blues and maroons and cold sage greens, but yearn for red hair and fair skin in my next life… (oh, yeah – AND my dad’s widow’s peak!)

  42. I’ve hoped to see some of your paintings. Thanks for showing them. They’re really lovely and quite peaceful. To answer your question, my art interest has leaked through many mediums including dance and music. I started with painting (and sometimes could still pay the rent with it, but glad I don’t have to) and now am totally in love with knitting.
    I’d noticed your own personal colorway but I just thought of it as your signature colors. I guess that should be signature colours. Chalk it up to inspiration can come from strange places.

  43. Your sense of comedic timing is something else . . . the ending got me. Beautiful.
    I too combine writing and art – have a background in linguistics/ foreign languages/writing and am finally admitting that I seem to be an artist as well . . . right now, I have finally broken through the Adobe Illustrator barrier and text and images are dancing together in a way that I never would have even conceived of ten years ago, when I was teaching creative writing to middle schoolers and urging them to give their total attention to the words. Now I know that words and images can definitely work together from conception to finished form. The way words and images evoke synesthetic, kinesthetic, sensual, transcendent responses is so very similar . . . and the deep pleasure of working with both at the same time is as delicious as anything I know. Knitting, words, Illustrator – all the same. Anyway, Steph, you ROCK! Your verve and wit as a writer alone is stunning. And we all love your groovy knitting (that word ought to go well with your colour scheme).

  44. I see it as a natural progression really. From the realism of your youth to the fractured realism of life with young children, to now, in what is obviously a physical manifestation of a deeply held desire, the choice of the colours representing Your childhood years, when there were no teenagers anywhere near your phone or fridge, and it was somebody else’s job to make dinner.

  45. I went to school for art and also love music-(I had been planning to be a music teacher. Then I decided I would like to be an ESL teacher and remembered that I sometimes have a difficult time coming up with common words when talking with people (not good for an ESL teacher), so I became an art major, ahhh it was fun) I don’t know for sure that I can call myself an artist. I do anyway-I’ve only sold a few note cards of my work (and most of those to relatives) Maybe I can call myself an emerging artist. —One other thing, my most recent yarn buys were a 70ish moss green, cream, and dark brown and I just saw a gold/bronzey yarn that I was quite drawn to . . . hmmm

  46. Don’t worry, the appliance colours from the seventies have all been rebranded: avocado is now the very modern sage, harvest gold is the timeless sunflower. Even that purple (our seventies bathtub was that purple) is now the sophisticated lavender.
    You’re totally 21st century!

  47. Like you, I’m driven by many muses, but I find the diversity in my artistic life is really fulfilling. When given the choice to knit, draw, paint, write, sing, play musical instruments, dance, embroider usually the hardest part is figuring out which Muse is screaming the loudest. It’s like there are teams of them loitering all over the house. There is the Writing Team of Muses: Poetry, Novel and Grocery List (She’s not as popular, but every bit as necessary). The Visual Arts Muses are composed of Medieval, Renaissance and Pre-Raphaelites. The Music Muses are to divers to list. It goes on… They tackle and capture and drive me for weeks at a time. The Knitting Muses have tangled me up for years: Lace, Fair Isle and Cable…with all her extra needles.
    Colour palettes and moods do seem to be matched too, I find. When I’m blue, so are my songs and my colours. Most of the time, however, life is pretty vibrant and sunny.
    Listen to your Muses. They won’t leave you alone until they and you are satisfied!

  48. Multiple media, yes. I create in multiple media, though I somehow don’t see myself as “that kind of creative.” But I knit, I crochet, hand sew, embroider, cross stitch, sometimes draw (though I’m no artist), take pictures by the thousands (with the occasional “happy accident that resembles art). I cook as much as possible (my friend Liz insists I channel Julia Child). In the warmer weather, I brave my allergies (grass, pollen, bees) and work on my yard/garden, working to create/augment a beautiful scene by color work….
    Yes, multiple media indeed.
    As to the yarn color things, I was struck by something last time I went to straighten out my stash. I have a bin that is nothing but lace weight. Most of the lace I make is for me and me alone. Well, aside from the large amount of natural colored cobweb gotten on clearance, virtually everything in that particular bin is in shades of pumpkin. The bin with everything but lace and sock yarn has many colors, as much of that is planned out as presents for other people. But then I got to my sock yarn. Much of what I have is either hand dyed or self patterning, and virtually all of it is in shades of blue. There about 4 balls in exception and yes, you guessed it, those are all planned for gifts.
    Yep. We gravitate towards colors that make us happy. ~:)

  49. I love those colors! They are very natural, just like you. Your paintings are incredible. Are they done in oil, I assume? You don’t seem like an acrylic kind of gal, in any medium. Not that there is anything WRONG with acrylic. 🙂

  50. I loved the comment about the appliance colours – you’re so good at those final funny sucker punches.
    Since most of the artists I know, myself included, don’t make a living from their work, I’d definitely use a different definition from your uncle.
    I’d say that you’re an artist if you put your art at the centre of your life – if you arrange your life so that you can continue to make art no matter what, i.e. picking a job that pays the rent but won’t interfere too much with your ‘real work’. I’d say you’re an artist if you’re serious about your work, if it’s your passion and if you’re constantly striving to be better at it. I think you’re an artist if you’re always working on your art in the back of your head, even when you seem to be doing something else on the outside.
    But of course, there are other equally valid definitions. There are people who don’t start painting or writing novels until they retire. There are people who paint at weekends. There are people who’s art isn’t seen until after their deaths. There are people who make art for a hobby with no intention of ever getting paid or making a name for themselves or showing in big exhibitions.
    I guess at the end of the day someone is an artist if they think they are but I think there is a difference between being an artist and being a professional artist. I guess your uncle is partly right – one of the differences is that professional artists do occasionally get paid, although invariably not as often as they should! I’d say that if other artists recognise you as a fellow artist then you’re probably a professional artist. Art is an area where the opinion of your peers matters a lot more in terms of status than whether you’re selling your work.

  51. I like your abstracts. And I wonder just how far you’ll go for a shaggy dog story? Appliance colors indeed. 🙂 Thanks.
    Hope you’re well and keeping warmish. If I’m cold in PA you must be ultra cold.

  52. I think I liked Rachel H’s comment as much as your post.
    And what limits? I see it as possibilites (and I don’t mean in a pollyanna sort of way). Look at what you can do with sticks and string–even string in one set of shades. The results are stunning and original and creative and all very different.
    It’s not like you’re making 100 identical sweaters here; the form and shape and texture vary and that’s the exciting part.

  53. The painting you describe as “Pure geometric limit with no realism left at all” looks to me like knitting needles and wound balls of yarn! You always knew where you were headed!

  54. If the last painting doesn’t have a name, I vote for “Hanging By a Limb” or maybe “Hanging From a Limb.” I clearly see a person suspended over an abyss of confusing, competing, clamoring, seductive, and scary demands, all requiring carefully marshalled bits of time and energy to keep them balanced just enough to prevent implosion–perfectly represents how I felt for the first eighteen years or so of motherhood . . .

  55. When I scrolled down past the trees painting I was trying to guess the next one before I got to the title. I guessed “Wine Bottles”. Well, you had young children at the time, right???

  56. I guess we all have our color safety zones. Mine is purples, greens, and a punch of rust now and then. Love those secondary colors. Exactly like my mom. And I think if you’re of a creative bent, it definitely ebbs over into as many aspects of life as possible. For me, it’s been illustration, graphic design, writing, product design, a gig faux finishing with a lighting manufacturer and then there’s the whole spinning/weaving/knitting thing.

  57. And here I thought they were the colors of spring and sunshine.
    BTW, I love the paintings. The mosque one is excellent.

  58. I was going to refrain from mentioning how closely this matches my memory of the STR colorway bearing your name, but find that I just can’t. Were those colors your choices, or were they colors that she chose because they in some way reflected you to her?
    Because if it’s the latter, I’m going to have to call that very, very interesting indeed.
    If the geometric piece ever finds itself looking for a good home, btw, I have just the place for it. You can have your people call my people and we’ll put something together. 😉
    And your Bohus is so beautiful it’s making me a little teary.

  59. I was told (in a marketing class) that ‘appliance colors from the 70’s’ were dreamed up by people who were trying to make the American Public (can’t speak for Canadians here) feel good enough to buy ‘stuff’ in the turbulent times during & immediately following the Vietnam War. I have also been told we tend to pick colors we look good in (which is why I don’t have any of these colors in my stash and one of the many reasons why my elementary school years were a living hell).
    That said, maybe (as someone has already pointed out much more pithily) you’re just picking colors that make you happy. The world is crazy, so you pick earth tones to keep you grounded and sane. Your world is cold, so you pick colors that are warm. You don’t look good in hot pink, so you pick gold and green.
    I think the most important thing here is that not only are these colors making YOU happy, the way you share your insights about them is making so many of US happy. Keep up all the beautiful work!

  60. I really like your paintings, particularly the early nude and the geometric one after the mosques. Come to think of it, I really like the geometric one for its colors, which match up quite well with your stash. I guess I like ’70s appliance colors too, although I’d rather call them “nature colors”…
    As artistic forms I really enjoy photography and sculpture, and more recently mixing palettes while dyeing yarn and fiber. Years ago, I wanted to be a fantasy author… I also enjoy building robots, and designing uniquely constructed knitwear… but I’m really not good at drawing things realistically.

  61. I love the paintings! And I could totally see your inspiration in each of them.
    I have a strong attraction to stockinette in the round, and to tiny needles. Perhaps a Bohus would be a good first sweater. They certainly are gorgeous!

  62. Nail on the head.
    Good limits and limitations are infinitely better for creativity and productivity then about anything else you can name.

  63. Now, now. The thing to do is call your sweater pattern “Amana” or “Frigidaire” and tell everybody you mean to be ironic. Ironic is the new deep, just as romantic is the new cynical.
    Feel better? Good.

  64. It’s amazing the depths our influences come from.
    Avacado and Harvest Gold…whodathunkit

  65. P.S. Fave quote:
    “Greece banished the man who added a string to the lyre. Art dies of liberty, and thrives on constraint.” – André Gide

  66. Hahaha, Harvest Gold, Avocado Green and (my favorite) Coppertone… It’s a little disconcerting, but I’ve been more than slightly enamored lately with the design of the Ranch houses that those appliances served.

  67. Have you considered applying your painting skills to fabric? Because I want pajamas in snowflake and a sundress in trees. Or possibly vice versa.

  68. I think you’re completely correct with your theory of limits – we need to be able to recognize them, respect them, and know when to push them and when to concede to them.
    Debbie
    PS, I think your snowflake is one of the more beautiful things I’ve seen. Thank you for sharing it.

  69. Lovely work on the paintings. I particularly like the middle period of semi-abstracts based on reality themes, and especially the Trees. If there happen to be any works available from that general period, I’d be seriously interested in buying one.
    I think that realism is an important place for any artist to start. The difference between good abstract art and bad is often subtle and hard to quantify, but I find that the best abstract art (both from my own taste and from the judgements of art history) almost always comes from artists who mastered realism first before departing into abstraction. For example, Picasso’s early work in realism was phenomenal.
    I agree that creative people generally at least experiment in multiple media. The creative spirit is inside; the media are more determined by what is available/salable/socially acceptable/etc. Most writers and artists I have met have tried several kinds of outlets for their creativity. Interestingly, though, my wife and I just spent the weekend with a friend who is a composer of modern serious music, and who is quite good at it. We hadn’t been to her place before, and I noticed (and found it fascinating) how little evidence there was of any taste or interest in other media there. Even in the sense of the surroundings; very little visual art was present, and what was there was undistinguished. So apparently the impulse to try different media is not universal; some do channel their creativity into one specific area and stay there.
    I’ve dabbled in drawing, stained glass, cooking, and others. More recently, given my wife’s fiber arts proclivities, I’ve taken classes in tapestry and in knotted-pile rugs. (If you want to see some spectacular tapestry art, take a look at Sarah Swett’s work. http://www.sarah-swett.com). For me, it’s all been dabbling; I haven’t tried to make a living at any of it (I’m an engineer by day — it’s easy and pays well). I have had a short story published, though, and am working (slowly) on a novel. (Also, my wife has told told me that if you ever send me the promised sock yarn for winning Ken’s Scrabble challenge back in October, I’ll be required to learn to knit with it.)
    As for the color palette subject, my wife’s experience has been interesting. As the owner of a hand-dyed yarn company, she has had to work at getting outside of her own preferred color palette, in order to produce colorways that will be bought by people of all tastes. Several times, we’ve had the experience where she’s done an experiment, and we’ve both thought that it was terribly ugly and a failure, but decided to show it to others. Each time, there have been people who have raved about it, and we’ve ended up adding it to the line.
    Anyhow, love your blog and your writing. I’d say you can legitimately claim both writer and artist titles, and good at both.
    Thanks.

  70. i love the snowflake, mosque and geometric paintings! they would fit right in at my house (with the orange stand mixer and stainless fridge- soon to be “00s appliance colors”)

  71. i love the snowflake, mosque and geometric paintings! they would fit right in at my house (with the orange stand mixer and stainless fridge- soon to be “00s appliance colors”)

  72. Wow! I am blown away. Not just by the latest faccet of your amazing talent. But also by the number of comments from readers who are also in some (mostly non-professional) artists too. Count me in here. My mother originally wanted me to be a concert pianist. I eventually got a MFA in photography. I have dabbled in acrylics but suck at painting and drawing unless I have a photo to work from. The camera puts the 3D into 2D for me…a skill I do not possess. I got a job in the ‘real’ world and have since just done ‘crafts’. Knitting is an unexpected passion that consumes me. It shocks me to discover at the age of 40+ that I have a talent for designing something as 3D as knitting. I wrote angst poetry as a teenager but wouldn’t dream of trying now. And, like just about everyone else out there, I too have a prefered color pallette.
    I guess what I am trying to say is, “Thanks, it’s nice to know you are not alone”.
    And I too thought ‘Spring’ was your choice of colors…thanks for another laugh.

  73. Dude, what do you mean you aren’t an artist anymore? Look at what your work revolves around. You are a fiber artist. All you did was change mediums.

  74. You never fail to amaze me – or amuse me. Love your art, love your writing, even love your 70s appliance palette.
    I always wanted to be a visual artist but don’t remotely have the talent. But the colors, the textures, the lines, the ideas – not to mention the chance to create something from nearly nothing – involved with knitting really do meet a sort of primal artistic need I have.

  75. My first apartment had matching appliances – they were turquoise (including the kitchen sink! Not quite the lovely blue shade in your sweater. I think it is safe to say that your sweater is in “sun-drenched” colors – no appliances I have ever seen ever looked so alive and glowing (if they had I would be worried).
    Knit on, no matter what color it is!

  76. Also…
    Your Torino sweater and hanspun scarf. I’ve been noticing too. Glad someone else pointed it out. 70’s appliance/Tupperware colors. Is it coincidence? What does that say about a person? Hmmmmmm…

  77. You are such the artist – it simply flows through you. I like looking at your art. I love Braque and Milo and your pix look happy and full of life like those. Hmm…I thought your last few lines and last pictures would be of your drawn art, turned into knit pieces. I can really see the wonderful blue snowflakes (or any of them) in a sweater or throw.

  78. P.S. The need for limits on the idea is not restricted to artists. Back when I was employed by other people, I used to have a sign on my desk that said: “In the life cycle of any product, there comes a time when you have to shoot the engineers and put the damn thing into production.” There are certainly those in the science/engineering/technical fields who, given the chance, will endlessly fiddle/modify/improve until the sun goes cold, without ever calling it done.

  79. Could you mean you’re not an artist if it isn’t in paints or words? ‘Cause, Steph, if you aren’t an artist whose medium is wool, I don’t know what it is you do. Words – yep, you’re incredible with them. Like the painting (snowflakes and mosques are my favorites). But I was flummoxed to read that you thought that maybe you were an artist now because you wrote. Huh? In my mind, you are primarily an artist because of your expression in wool. No further proof is needed than the photo of you and your finished shawl walking, no – flying, in the woods. Your limitations, as you say, are merely sticks and string (or a non-ending thing) – but it’s what you do with it that sets you apart. Really, if you never wrote another word (in print, because in truth the blogworld would be a duller place) we would be sad, but if you never knit again, the world would be a poorer place and we, each of us, would be less because of it. You are an artist and it has nothing to do with words or paint…

  80. Lovely.
    now, either you’re avoiding knitting on the gansey, or you just haven’t gotten much done.
    i think you’re avoiding the gansey, and trying to make us all forget it (poor thing) with distracting images of your personal palette and old paintings (lovely, btw).
    it won’t work.
    get moving on the gansey, steph!

  81. Yeah, you do knit a lot of green things these days. But, I really do, like so many others, think that it’s totally normal to be drawn to a set of colors — if not for your whole life, at least for a period in it. Colors reflect mood, etc. It makes sense. I think that surrounding yourself with what makes you feel good (i.e. particular colors) is important — especially this time of year!
    As for the writing overlapping w/ other creative pursuits. Yes, I think that is true for many — particularly for the number of knitters out there who are bloggers. However, my mother, too, is an artist (primarily in painting, though lots of other stuff too) and she is so right-brained that she most certainly, while talkative, does not express herself verbally (at least not in the *written* verbal form). As you can see, that is not my problem….
    On another note, I think there is a lot of overlap between certain professions and writing, too, like lawyering. Very common for lawyers to write. There’s your deep thought from me today. 🙂

  82. That would explain the Harlotty sock colorway…. Maybe it is just the desire for warmth and sun during the cold winter.
    Love the paintings. 🙂

  83. Um, you are both a writer and an artist. Your current medium just happens to be fiber, not paint.
    I think your colors are less 1970’s appliance, and more fall afternoon. 🙂

  84. 70’s appliances are a perfectly good source of inspiration, if that’s your thing. You can be so funny sometimes, Steph!

  85. Dear Harlot,
    I am printing off this entry because it spoke to me on so many levels. I was reading and admiring your art and nodding, I saw snow flake and trees and I think the other study is a pool table. Just my guess.
    Your last line (appliance colours) made me laugh.
    Humour is an art too and you have an abundance of talent.

  86. The colors are great! It’s just the point where maybe you consider adding your own shag touches to the Bohus that I would worry that any memories of the 70s have gone too far (so…no fringe, right?) LOL

  87. Still giggling!
    We had a chocolate brown fridge, but I find I still lean towards the brick color that was in our linoleum for years.

  88. Think of it as being sort of an aid worker for lost colours. They were perfectly lovely until the home furnishings industry abused them in the 70’s. Then they became untouchables, consigned to the dump heap (literally) of modern times. Perhaps it takes an artist’s eye to give them a fresh chance at life. (Either that, or you still have an avocado fridge and a harvest gold stove and they are sending you scary subliminal messages.)

  89. I’d totally buy the snowflake one for my MIL. She’d adore it. I actually started out with colored pencil and oil pastel. I added all sorts of mediums including knitting and now, finally oil. The more I create the clearer my brain. Just the idea of sticking to just one medium hurts my brain.
    😀

  90. Haha this sentence just cracks me up – “That hand looks like an octopus in heat…bad art” I really like the colours you’re using at the moment whether it be 70’s appliance colours or my theory of them being calming autumnal earthy colours!

  91. Ah, Picasso had his blue phase, Stephanie has her appliance phase…prehaps if Picasso had knitted, he,too, would have treasured avocado and harvest gold and found solace on less saleable days by stealing gold nail polish from children……hmmmm.

  92. LOVE the blog post today! Such a great flow to illustrate your topic! Color choices are so much more personal and subconscious than many people realize. I love your color choices—look more like hues of nature to me, but there is something to be said for 70’s appliance colors! I have to consciously steeeeeeeer myself away from choosing the same colorways and combos over and over—and I have a huge, 3-colored stash to prove it! 🙂 Now I try to pick up my least favorite color in a yarn and see if I could like it—doesn’t work very often….

  93. That is a very comprehensive (and very good) summary of the artistic process. You could definitely hold your own in a classroom of art appreciation students.
    But harvest gold? Call it “burnished marigold.” And avocado? Call it “weathered olive.” See? All better now!

  94. I wonder why it is that others always have to point out these obvious things…I was unaware that all my recent clothes purchases were in the greens and browns palettes until I went shopping with a friend. I’m dealing with it.

  95. It’s always interesting to get a glimpse of the other passions of the knitters whose blogs I read. Having worked in a library and been surrounded by a whole slew of knitters, I am used to the bookish sorts (I was an English major, myself); it’s a pleasure to see a painter, as well.
    Lovely work you’ve sampled here. I never did study art, and I couldn’t draw a foot to save my life, but the obsession with color is one that I (and, I expect, many knitters) understand.
    Cheers!

  96. That’s great! I love your paintings. I had no idea you painted. I think you can still qualify yourself as an artist becasue knitting = art.

  97. Nothing comforts in quite the same way as our mother’s kitchen. (A little assumption there, I’ll grant.) Brilliant, brilliant post.

  98. Oh, Stephanie, you didn’t realize you were always using greens and browns and yellows? I noticed that a long time ago! Of course, I limit myself to the “official colors of a girl younger than Eight”, to quote Ann and Kay…pink and purple.

  99. My color wheel must be groovin to the psychadelic 60’s. I am into all the hot colors and free form. No, I’m not smokin…

  100. LMAO. Hey, those 70s colors are IN again or haven’t you noticed? Regardless, we are who we are, to thine ownself be true, etc. etc. Besides, these are all still in mother nature’s own palette. What better guide is there?
    Yes, I find most artful people express themselves in multiple ways. I write and knit. Or knit and write more like it.

  101. As an artist who is still looking for her”style” Iloved this posting. Obvious under Uncle Tupper’s definition I am not an artist but one show I entered noted that professional included all artists with an art degree. Needless to say I would have starved to death along with the four children if I had supported myself from the sale of my works.
    Really like your work.
    Could not afford coloured appliances back then because they were more expensive than white.
    Cheers. Naomi

  102. With all respect to your uncle, I believe you are an artist if you MUST create. And clearly you MUST. I would buy your paintings if I could afford them. I would buy a photocopy (LOL) of the trees. I would totally love to live with that painting.
    It’s funny, I figured your palette was deliberate. You know, like Picasso’s Blue Period. But where you see Kitchen Kitsch, I see Canadian Fall. And heat.
    You are painting warmth. With your yarn.

  103. OK you are a FIBER ARTIST. Remember that! I truly took on that name when my mother told me that Artists are allowed to have messy houses; it shows their creativity is their priority! If for no other reason than that every beginner out there should see themselves in their creative role. Let the dishes pile up and be your Inner Artist!

  104. I am an art historian. Lousy one, I guess… but my opinion is that your paintings are damn good.
    And I’m a lousy yarn dyer, I guess. but thinking of my colours, I wear black, white, both of which I rarely knit, I had lots of things in shades of cold pink and grayish pink and pure magenta – I would never go into warm pinks, too fleshy or something and one of the main points of my life is fighting against any trace of what would be commonly recognised as sex-appeal. But, I dye almost anything… but for browns. I hate brown with all my hating strength. Only at things for which it’s appropriate, I accept it… chocolate, wood, soil, sandstone and the like. Clothes? never. For me, everybody looks bad in brown.
    My most favorite colour to dye is deep cyan.
    Mz fridge is silver-gray. Not from the 70’s, though. Maybe I could use it as some sort of inspiration for my next sweater?

  105. Have I ever told you that I want to be you when I grow up? Because really, I do. Every time I start thinking, “Okay, she’s a wool wizard(ess), and a doula just like you want to be someday, and you’ve started writing knitting essays because you admire her writing, but she’s *just a person*,” you show yet another side of your awesomeness. I love those paintings. They’re just breathtaking. And your current pallette isn’t 70’s Appliance Colors, it’s Autumnal Bliss.
    Bless your socks, Ms. Pearl-McPhee. Bless your socks.

  106. I remember you mentioning your fine art background as I also have a fine art/photography/obsessed with yarn and knitting background. I’ve always wondered whether you would merge the interests and start designing knitwear, it could be wonderful.

  107. You made me laugh out loud with that punchline! If anyone had told me that 70’s appliance colors could be beautiful I’d have said, “No way!” How wrong I was. That bohus is a thing of beauty, no reservations or qualifications whatsoever.

  108. De-lurking at long last to say how blown away I am by those paintings! I tend to like the ones that are a little to the left of realism myself. I love the shapes and colour in there, and the snowflake and mosques are particularly eye-catching. What beautiful work the Bohus sweater is too.

  109. The art history PhD candidate says, “Wow.” It is interesting how the colors in your paintings are different from those you most often knit. I say go with the colors that speak to you most. You’ll enjoy the process more and can really make them sing. (And the Bohus can’t be 1970s appliances–there’s no orange. So there! {petulantly stamps foot})

  110. Colored appliances are back! I was in Home Despot this morning and saw washers and dryers in navy blue and the most gorgeous candy-apple red with high gloss finishes that looked like car paint. I pointed to the red set and said to the friend I was shopping with, “Ooh! Look at the sexy red washer and dryer!” She looked at me kinda funny and said, “Is it sad that we’re old enough to think red appliances are sexy?”

  111. I guess from now on those 70’s appliance colours are going to be know as the Harlot colourway. You own them now! And on another note, I was thinking that Mosques (and the other unnamed geometric in harlot colours) would make the most gorgeous blanket – have you ever thought about charting it?

  112. I’ve been reading your blog for some time- it always means a great deal to me. Your words always bring something new to my day. I’m finally commenting now because I wanted to thank you for the laugh. I had been romanticizing the beauty of your colors and totally cracked up when I read your last couple lines.
    Thanks for your writing.

  113. Wow, a whole new piece of your artistic self to get to know. Beautiful! I recognized the snowflake and trees immediately, however I thought the mosques were vases, and the geometric was Fiesta dinnerware. But the last one is a full color scene of Taos, New Mexico, isn’t it?
    Those are exactly my colors also, in all their shades and depths. Except I take out the blues and then have a totally seperate colorway with all the purple I can get.

  114. I agree with the others; those are simply lovely fall colours. 🙂
    And I am stuck, too; I look at, and buy, the same palette of colours over and over–dark. Dark brown, dark green, dark red, dark blue, dark purple.
    Good thing I’m happy being stuck.

  115. oh my damn. I was totally into the deep philosophical ruminations, relating to them, being spurred to take on the task of considering how they apply to self. Whammo! You end with the appliance color comment. Priceless. Sheesh, no wonder I like you–capable of prompting deep thought tempered with don’t-take-yourself-too-seriously. Harlot, You Rock.
    I tend to gravitate toward certain colors too. Different color limits for different areas of my existence. Default for any- and everything: shades of green. Shoes: red. Clothes for work: black. Clothes for non-work: lovely earth tones. Yarn? love all kinds of colors, but cannot resist (read: stop buying) any shade of ORANGE. Please note, I CANNOT wear the color orange. But apparently it is the color of the song in my soul.

  116. I am CRACKING up right now. LOL!
    I was so not expecting that. Anyway – you’re a very talented artist. My grandmother paints nothing but geometric shapes the color of night, and she’s been paying her rent that way for years. Okay – so she ended up paying it being an interior designer (little navy chair symbols…little grey table symbols – see a pattern there?) but she made it work for her.
    I think you’re found a perfect way to have your limits be less limiting, though. You have the actual knitting to provide the color and the tactile medium. You write about knitting – so you have the words to help you make sense of it (and pay rent) and you get to relive your adolescence (?) to boot.
    Win, win, win.

  117. Thank you very much for sharing your paintings. You have so many talents.
    I have been noticing your Harlotty colorways for a while as well such as the Icarus Shawl, Diarufran Sweater and your handspan scarf from Oct 2006. They are definitely your signature colors.
    I think we all have a certain colorways that speak to us. After I started knitting my own sweaters, etc., I have been buying yarns in shades of gray, slate blue, blue, plums, and rosy pink. And I noticed they were the colors of threads I picked for a project in high school more than 20 years ago. I wonder if we ever migrate to different color spectrum…

  118. Some of your paintings remind me of cubism and others remind me of Marc Chagall.
    The latest issue of New Yorker magazine has an article about color and one of the women involved in setting each year’s official palette.

  119. I realized at Stitches East that I was buying things in the same palette over and over — all quasi muted tones. Consider this one of an artist’s many color periods.

  120. Appliance colours from the 70s. That is such a great description. My apartment when I first moved back here (in 2003) had a Harvest Gold stove. Needless to say the thermostat didn’t work.
    on the “can I call myself and artist and writer”: I have been reading John Holt’s Teach Your Own. One of his arguments about schooling and the hold it has on society is that it is means by which we define (arbitrary) qualifications for various jobs. So things that folks just did in the past and learned how to do by working with others and learning as they went along (either informally or more formally in apprenticeships) now have requirements of formal schooling, leading to qualifications, etc.
    I don’t think either artist or writer have gone that far. And Uncle Tupper’s definition is probalby as good as any, though lots of artists and writers don’t make a living that way. I might say that you are one if you spend a considerable amount of your time doing these things. Or even if these things are important to your definition of who you are.
    I think the other thing in your question is something I see in women professionals (including doctoral students and professors) all the time — a tendency to think we are going to be found out as frauds. The only difference between men and women in this respect seems to be that men (in general) are much more confident about presenting themselves as genuine whatevers. Whereas women seem reluctant to do so unless they are absolutely certain that they truly meet all the possible criteria…
    Go boldly. If you call yourself and artist and writer confidently. Then most people will accept that. They may think you are a crap artist or writer (I don’t), but that is a matter of taste.

  121. “Appliance colours from the 70’s.” = YOU ARE A RIOT! And you are really booking on that sweater. It’s lovely!
    I have a Fine Arts background, too = multiple music and drama degrees. And had I not blended the two and capitalized on my third degree area (English Literature) NO BILLS would have ever or ever will be paid! So, yes, you are right!
    Hello – EVANSVILLE!
    I am a squeaky wheel – but it’s all good!

  122. I have a strange Pavlovian reaction to the words “appliance colors of the 70s”. I immediately want to reach for the corn chips (gold) and guacamole (that lovely avocado green). 😀

  123. I know what you mean about the need for being an artist sneaking through your reality.
    I was very ill for several years and unable to paint or knit. My relief to feed my need for color came from making soup with all the colors provided to me through the use of multiple vegetables.
    I also painted each of my toenails a different color and one of the times that I was admitted to hospital during that time, the MD examined my reflexes on my feet and when she saw my toes, exclaimed that clearly I was a woman with too much time on my hands! Little did she know that it was an act to feed my need for color and was keeping me sane.

  124. Last year I was knitting on a sweater in the back seat of a car on my way to a work conference. Someone up front complimented the color and mentioned that it matched the sweater I was wearing…Well, I had handknit the sweater I was wearing. It was the first time I noticed that it was the same color. Then, I started thinking about the new yarn I had just bought which was sitting at home…same color. Then, I remembered another handknit sweater I had at home…same color. I had honestly never seen that I kept buying the same color – orchid – over and over. I know that I love that color. How could I not see it? I can’t believe that yarn stores weren’t calling me everytime they got in something orchid colored. More importantly, I have not now nor ever owned, seen nor wanted an orchid colored appliance…

  125. The entire kitchen in my apartment is an homage to the 70’s: Rust colored linolium tile, Avacado green appliances AND counter tops, colonial oak cabinets. All original. Want to make me some matching dish towels?

  126. LOL!! My url for this comment will take you to a post that has some sock yarn at the end – a STR Rare Gem colorway that I dubbed 70s Kitchen! If we had but know that it was your perfect colorway…

  127. Well, my personal color palette is limited to any color you like, as long as it can be found on an oak tree (California oak, not those frilly English oaks that can sometimes have leaves that aren’t a proper, dignified ‘dusty green’ but might actually make a break for ‘vivid’ or even [dare I think it] ‘electric’ green).
    Whenever I deviate from this color scheme, my friends make note: “Dear Diary, The most exciting thing happened! Tama wore PURPLE!”
    The Bohus looks fabulous. I think I’d take your 70s appliances over my oak tree palette any day.

  128. Thanks for sharing a part of yourself I didn’t know about. And thanks for the laugh. 70’s appliance colors are making a big comeback you know.

  129. I LOVE the snowflake painting. LOVE it. Would you be abject to me turning it (at some point) into a paper-pieced quilt? That’s the first thing I thought when I saw it (and I knew it was snowflakes only having seen the top quarter, since that’s all I could see when I first clicked here).
    I also had a really good laugh at your last line. Thanks for warming up another frigid day in Winterpeg!

  130. Wonderful post, and great laugh-out-loud line (all alone at my computer, yet).
    Just be glad you aren’t drawn 🙂 to a palette from the ’50s. The ceramic tile on the walls in my main bathroom is Pepto Bismol pink.

  131. Oh my heavens, you’re right. The bohus itself is a blend of my parents’ wall phone and my grandma’s refrigerator…goldenrod and avacado, am I right?
    That really cracked me up. The cat in my lap doesn’t appreciate the belly laughs, though.

  132. I just returned home from a Dr appt, following an ER visit where I was told it’s pretty sure I have a very rare form of cancer. I have had tears of anger and frustration over how slow our healthcare system moves. These last few weeks of my life have been an eternity. I just read your post, and laughed for the first time today. Thank you

  133. If they be indeed appliance colors, I LIKE appliance colors too! Your mitten and sweater color selections are divine!

  134. So now I am awed by your accomplishments in two arenas! I think your latest color choices are just an attempt to bring some spring to Ontario. I remember doing that a lot growing up, wanting bright colors in the winter.
    On a side note, I once lived in an apartment with avocado green appliances, lime green counters and grass green shag rug all pulled together with dark wood. It looked like Walt Disney threw up!

  135. Don’t forget that Hardangervidda was also in the same colorway – I noted that when you knit the wrist warmers at Madrona.
    And what happens if you start wanting to knit something that looks like a shag rug in those colors? Does that make it a total 70s flashback?

  136. I never went through a “Realism” phase. All of my artwork is fractured realism. Probably because I can’t draw worth a damn and am therefore pretty much limited to stick figures.
    I noticed in the past that you seemed to stick to a particular color palette. But, seeing how I usually have to force myself to buy things that aren’t a dark shade of red, I didn’t think I was in a position to comment.

  137. The ’70’s were a difficult time, color-wise. Perhaps you are now ready to begin confronting the affects a full decade of um, interesting, trends in kitchen decorating had on your young self.
    It’s beautiful. 🙂

  138. Or, perhaps the palette you’ve picked is a representative of the seasons……..yellow for summer, beige for fall, white for winter, and the green for spring. Just another spin, eh?
    Love the snowflake painting….a stark reality up close and personal. Thanks!

  139. I was thinking that your colors from the mitten class looked a whole lot like your knitting Olympics sweater. But I wasn’t going to mention it. YOU brought it up. Haha!

  140. Thanks for the paintings, Stephanie! They’re super. Yes, creativity leaks. Music, painting, textiles as visual art, writing, book design. . . . I haven’t been painting in a while (no time) but have made a commitment on March 1 and 2 to spend some time with color again in the form of pastels. Do I need another medium? Guess so. . . .

  141. I returned to art school in 1992 after a 17 year layoff to finish my BFA degree. I studied painting and printmaking but discovered along the way that I could write well, too. So now I make my living as a grantwriter for an art museum and haven’t painted in 10 years. The vast majority of my creative energy is now funneled into textiles, with an emphasis on knitting and spinning. Even my more traditional “art work” is textile based these days. With fibre I can revel in the colours, textures, tactile surfaces; all those sensual pleasures that I got from paint but love so much more in fibre. I really need limitations of some sort in my creative work – oil paintings are never really done, and with textiles there are many different kinds of limitations I can work with. And I never tire of those beautiful, luscious wools, silks, stitches, needles, and all the other pleasures of working with textiles. Thanks, Stephanie!

  142. ROFLOL!
    Gee, I’m glad I’d swallowed my coffee before I read the last line!
    I LOVE your art…especially the geometrics!
    And 70s appliance colors…can we believe they’re BAA-ACK? (I happen to agree that the colors you’re choosing are nature’s colors – however, the ones on your palette seem a prettier shade than the 70s retro look.
    (((hugs)))

  143. I too started out adult life as an art and english major with my mother teaching me how to weave potholders and then a little later, how to knit when I was about 10. Knitting was part of my life through design and paint and book, for YEARS. The colors in nature brought me finally to the plant world and still I knit. Landscape designer now, I knit more than ever loving the color in the world and in the wool as you do so very beautifully.
    Keep warm.

  144. For one of my jobs I work in stained glass. Not stained glass as in “making pictures of things out of pieces of coloured glass”, but rather “making things that have pieces of glass in them” and wire, and sometimes foud objects, beads, etc. I employ only cathedral glass – strong, true, clear colours.
    Yesterday I finally sat down to sketch out a scarf plan that’s been dancing about my head for a long while cuz it needed to get out. It’s base is a bunch of barely spun natural silver three-ply, and some worsted-weights in bright colours left over from previous projects. The design, I thought, had been influneced a little by Colour on Colour from Scarf Style – a variety of geometric shapes, lines, circles strewn over the ground. Imagine my surprise when I finished colouring out the design on graph paper to see what could easily have been one of my glass pieces. Hm. I guess I too have an idiom.

  145. I realized as I was rounding up projects the other day, I’ve been in a real orange period with my knitting.
    The colours you work with are no longer appliance tones – they are Harlotty! Celebrate and enjoy!

  146. I had noticed that you had pared down your palette lately, but that association hadn’t occurred to me, which is why I am sitting here laughing at my computer screen.
    I work next to a shopping mall, and a coworker and I try to get out and walk at least a couple of times a day, and when it’s really cold but we need to walk anyway we walk in the mall, which is how we noticed that the latest color in washing machines is… red. By comparison avocado is very serene and restful.
    I was with you on the snowflakes and trees. The mosques, I’m terribly sorry to say, I mistook for wine glasses.

  147. And the Harlotty STR, and Hardangervidda, and the spun scarf, and the Trekking olive socks, and … [ducking and running]
    Not to worry, they’re all fantastic colors, and I can and do wear them, too! Even though we had those orange kitchen counters, a harvest gold fridge, a brown oven, and rust carpet. I’m working on a purple, brown, red, gold, and orange spun scarf from your one-row pattern, since I just liked how the roving looked how it was. I promise it doesn’t look like a sunset threw up.

  148. Hey, appliance colours from the seventies are totally in these days! Make no apologies, I share a preference for the same palette – maybe a little more towards the orange/red side of things. And in answer to you question, I call myself both an artist and a writer, I can even qualify under Uncle Tupper’s rules. Maybe its because I did Experimental Arts at OCA and it was pretty heavy on the words.

  149. unfortunately (sigh!), the answer to your question about artistic spillover is: yes. Hence my writing degree, photojournalism degree, commercial artist classes and music profession, weaving, dyeing, spinning, yadda yadda…! Please whatever you do: don’t take up scrapbooking it is more addictive than sock knitting and cost more than a US passport….lol. Love the snowflakes, sketches and the colorways of fiber you have chosen. Looking forward to seeing a picture of you wearing it soon!

  150. I loved your art and post today. And your last line was the best! Thanks for a great laugh. I needed it, it’s report card time. Now I’m thinking about whether the colours I choose to knit and paint with come from my childhood (which was a little before yours. Our appliances were all white.)We had turquoise painted cupboards and burgundy counter tops in our kitchen.(my mother had some wild ideas about what colours to put together.)I just ordered some yarn in those very colours. Perhaps some serious research could be done on the whole subject of how childhood influences our adult choices.

  151. Maybe I’m missing the point and maybe it’s just the bottle of shiraz I’m working on talking but…..
    So what?
    You like what you like. If you’re going to spend a billion hours knitting a sweater with tiny little needles and yarn, and another billion hours wearing it why not have it in a color palette that you like and wear?
    (If it makes you feel any better though, the color palette of the bohus reminds me more of Van Goghs “Cornfield with Cypresses” than any kitchen appliance I’ve ever encountered.

  152. Hey, I graduated with a B.S. in studio art, concentration painting. And now, I mostly knit. It’s so much more … orderly. And you know, doesn’t pa the rent any better than painting did. Although sometimes I feel like I’ve totally copped out. sigh. New respect, Stephanie, new respect.

  153. When I saw the ‘snowflake’, before reading the post, I thought, “Hey, cool! She’s painted KNITTING!”
    Well, it DOES look kinda like stockinette…..doesn’t it??

  154. I know someone has said this already by now (I still need to read all of the comments) but…defining yourself as an artist by whether or not you are painting or drawing…what do you call your knitting??!! How about graphing out beautiful designs, determining color, etc., then translating that to an actual finished knitted project = ARTIST!! I love the sweater, it is just beautiful. I found another beautiful sweater on the site – Modell 40 – but the pattern hasn’t been translated so all I can do is look at it and dream! Hope you are staying warm (I am having a hard time of it here in CNY, today it may have made it to the 20’s not including windchill. It’s bad when we are looking forward to it warming up to 20 degrees F!)

  155. Love the paintings! And thank god, appliance colors from the 70’s look a helluva lot better in yarn. 😉 Although I wish everyone in the retail industry would stop adhering slavishly, in perfect lockstep, to the color forecasts every season. I’m sick and tired of trying to find colors I like (and don’t look like a corpse in) among all the melons, tangerines, rusts, citrus greens, yellows, or muted tones thereof for the last several years. I don’t want to see others deprived of them, you understand; I just want some choices, too, withoug having to make my own clothes, which I can’t afford. (Besides, I hate sewing – esp. entire garments by hand. [g]) Sapphire. Lapis. Emerald. Oxblood. Crimson. Blue violet. Real jade. Deep amethyst. Viridian. You know; something that sings for me, which sage or kiwi green do not.
    As to the arts and different mediums – I’ve never been a pro at any of ’em, but have done or still do what fascinates me. Writing or story-telling – been doing the latter since I can remember. If I can’t fall asleep, I tell myself stories until I do. Fiber – knitting, spinning, weaving, embroidery (fascinated by the Oriental styles), dyeing, a little bit of silk-painting, fabric painting. Jewelry-making with my own designs, a little polymer clay bead-making on occasion. I’d get into metal-work with the jewelry if I had the money and facilities. Dabbled briefly in painting with traditional media, then computer graphics programs came along, and I love playing with them. A little photography, mostly by instinct. I think the only difference between an Artist and an artist is that the world classifies one as a professional and the other as an amateur. But when I use amateur, I mean it in the older sense of the word – one who creates for the love of it. (Or more usually, because they have to.) The pro just happens to get paid for it. Something like what Kirsty expressed way up above, a lot better than I just did. 😉

  156. Wonderful art and Wicked humor.We can go yarn shopping together because we are on opposite sides of the color wheel and wouldn’t be tempted to grab from each other. Some of my friends have the war wounds to prove which one is the grabber or the grabee.

  157. First off while I don’t do 70’s applicance color I sure know about the sticking to one range of colors – for me it is blue, blue grey, glue green with maybe some brown thrown in for good measure ….
    Second – Mosques would make the most incredible stained glass – one of my previous loves….

  158. The trees one I could see. I could see pretty much all of them. Except the appliance color thing… Maybe it’s because I wasn’t born then.

  159. (trying hard not to laugh)BWAHAHA!(dang!)
    70’s appliance colors, huh? My friend Becky (http://awoollydiscipline.blogspot.com) knitted almost exclusively with reddish-brownish-orange for many many moons. She’s better now.
    I began life as a painter. I literally cannot remember a time when I didn’t draw or paint. I don’t do either very often now because, like you said, my need for color and form is satisfied primarily with the needled arts. I tend to limit what I paint to that which you can find in nature, though even that can seem quite abstract when viewed up close. I once painted about a half a dozen different types of intestinal parasite eggs in blue. My favorite drawing is of a cockroach bigger than my forearm. They both sound incredibly disgusting, but are actually quite lovely. The former was a gift to my parasitology professor and the latter hangs in my diningroom.

  160. I think that your bohus looks gorgeous! I thought that it looked more like a range of ocean colors that you’d see in Oregon or something similar. The snowflake painting was beautiful, too, and makes me envious as I am only able to paint poorly. My favorite was the trees though. 🙂

  161. looks like early pre spring to me! just before the blossoms spring open, yanno?

  162. Isn’t it interesting how certain colors “speak” to our souls? Several years ago I bought a blue winter coat instead of my usual red one–and I very nearly went psychotic. Apparently my soul NEEDS a red coat. Especially during these Ohio winters!

  163. snowflakes are my favorite shape. i’d have bought that painting from you if i’d been around when you did it. but… the colors are pretty, even if that was the most random description you could have come up with for that set of colors.

  164. Lol! The ’70s appliances need someone to love them. Who better than you?
    P.S. I adore the mosques.

  165. I didn’t read 190-some comments before me so I don’t know if someone already mentioned it, but your artistic history does make me think about Piet Mondrian’s artistic progress. Though, it is not the color work’s aspect, it is rather the transformation of the form of object. At your arriving point as geometoric abstract, it makes me think Sonia Delauney’s form and color ensembre. AS you studied art, I think you might already know about the resemblance of your art and these great artists…what do you think? And I love your own style in it. Snowfrake is very beautiful. You are always artist, if your medium changed from painting to yarn. your yellow-green color set is just your colors and I assume everyone have their own favorite color set. I have mine, too. Thank you for sharing your artistic history with us.

  166. Do indeed call yourself a writer and for heaven’s sake save this one to publish. All I can tell you is that my family (all non-knitting in the extreme) can’t believe I’ve begun reading knitting blogs, but when I forward this to every single one I expect they’ll get it. Thank you Stephanie.

  167. You know those colours are making a huge comeback ;-D. Seriously, I went through 7 years of art college and made my living as a graphic designer for 16 years. There seem to be multiple cross overs between avid readers, writers, artists, designers and knitters (at least from what I’ve seen in my blog and elsewhere). I see a lot of designers get into knitting because they are sick of being on a computer 24/7 but then the blogging comes in because of their computer background and I think the knitting comes in from the need for tactile stimulation. Art college was hands on Graphic Design went from hands on to all on computer, knitting takes it back to hands on. Anyway, this is a long way of saying, you totally have a good point!!

  168. Delurking to say thank you for sharing your past artwork with us. Like the others, I am beyond impressed with your many talents. In every period and style, it’s all gorgeous and natural and it’s not surprising that you gravitate toward the colors which remind you of the outdoors and crisp air and beauty. Add me to the list of people who perk up when Bloglines tells me you have a new post!

  169. I think you’re right. I wrote my thesis on an experiment I performed related to “The Psychology of Color”—it was a fascinating topic of study. (Er…I mean that the topic was fascinating, not my thesis…)

  170. Oh, my gosh, the “Harvest Guld” line above in a comment was the highlight of my day! I’m still laughing. You are a very talented writer, as we all know, and your artwork is a lovely surprise. For a moment, I thought you were actually going to write a serious piece here. . .and then, and then, you got us all. Well done!
    I love the Mosques!

  171. I think you’re right. I wrote my thesis on an experiment I performed related to “The Psychology of Color”—it was a fascinating topic of study. (Er…I mean that the topic was fascinating, not my thesis…)

  172. I’ve come to enjoy modern art over the last decade or so. I think it’s because I’ve always been drawn to color, and the way color interacts and develops in modern art is fascinating to me. I enjoyed all your paintings, but the color study is my favorite. I really liked seeing the progression from realism to representation to the final study. an evolution

  173. hey, don’t knock appliance colors from the 70s—that is my very FAVORITE era for appliances! if only the appliance makers had that sort of vision now . . .
    i am also a lapsed painter who finds her palette now in yarns and words. since we moved out of NYC to this big house and began renovating, my environment is just too chaotic (and dusty) for painting, so i am escaping it for the time being to the realm of wool. i am SO fine with that, that i may never go back, but who knows?
    in the meantime, my house is an art house, through and through.

  174. If these be 70s appliance colors, let the refrigerator hum!
    (Clearly Mr Washie has had a lasting effent on your life…)

  175. The paintings are beautiful! I especially love the trees and the snowflakes. two of my favorite things done so beautifully geometricly. Love them. You never fail to blow me away.
    as far as your current color palatte… we all have our favorite colors and the colors that look best with our favorite colors. your stash is rather varied compared to mine!
    and atleast you are in 70s appliance colors… it could be worse. think 80s neons.

  176. your colors are nature-related, representative of water, sun, earth, plants. if you lose any one of those, there is imbalance… your harvest sweater is a lovely new new canvas.
    btw, i am both writer and amatuer photographer… artistic cross pollination is more rampant than you might expect.

  177. Wait a sec … I’m confused … there are colourways that *don’t* involve medium blue, navy blue, ultramarine blue, cobalt blue, sky blue, air force blue, indigo blue, or midnight blue? How can that be?

  178. You are an enigma wrapped in a mystery. Are you left-handed? Not inclined to clean up messy things, I never took to art. I was a music major in college. I confess (under duress) to an uber-geeky addiction to math puzzles. Music, math and knitting surely travel on some common neuropathways.
    I myself am knitting with the Lego color palatte right now.
    Oh, and by the way, I listened to that SOAR podcast you did a month or so ago. Just two questions: What were you smoking and where can I get some?

  179. We have much in common you and I, from a degree in art, in which knitting is currently my only outlet and medium of choice that I employ at the moment to meets my need for visual, tactile and color stimulus to an 18 year old daughter who plays violin.
    As to your color palette, I had noticed that you routinely chose similiar color ways, what surprised me was, I thought you knew.

  180. Didn’t a popular yarn dyer publish a colorway they called Harlotty? Wasn’t it in those colors? Didn’t you refer to it as “70s appliance colors” back then?
    Just sayin’. Beautiful post, Stephanie.

  181. Just *had* to share this with my watercolour teacher. At Christmas, she began knitting again, for the first time.
    🙂

  182. Lovely post, Steph.
    Of course you are stil an artist if you are knitting instead of painting. You’re just painting with yarn now.
    I truly like your paintings.

  183. Ahem.
    Steph, I beg – nay, COMMAND – to differ when you say you’re not an artist.
    1) Writing is a form of art. Book number 4 is shipping when?
    2) Go back and look at the pictures – not even the articles – of the amazing things you make from sticks and string. Pay close attention. Snowdrop shawl could hang in a museum.
    3) You live your life freely and beautifully, as all true artists should. You raise socially conscious children, pet cats, bring life into the world with support for mother and child…
    Who wouldn’t see the art in any of that?

  184. LOL! You and my friend Kay are just in love with those colors! Green, orange, gold and brown will make her happy for days. Throw in a little of the right shade of purple, and you are golden! On a happy note, those colors are slowly coming back into style. Me, I’m a blue girl. That snowflake painting is absolutely lovely. Just my kind of color, and it certainly looks like winter. (I even knew it was a snowflake when I first saw it!) I like a somewhat realistic painting much more than I like cubism or modern arts. John Singer Sargent is one of my favorites. I just love Fumée d’Ambre Gris. It’s just amazing. However I love your paintings. Your colors, my dear Harlot, are absolutely stunning and I just love the way you put them together. Thanks for being kind enough to share them. I just love your snowflakes and mosques!

  185. LOL Hey, it works for you! Another thing I find interesting is how color is used differently in different cultures. For example, you don’t see a whole lot of red cars in Germany – someone told me they’re considered somewhat unlucky. On the other hand, if it’s for your house – furniture, bed linens, appliances, whatever – you can get it in any color of the rainbow. Most Germans seem to have a lot of color in their homes, which I really like, because so many Americans seem to be afraid of color in anything but clothing. Since my living room windows look out on plum orchards and vineyards, I have moss-green walls and deep violet furniture, and I’m loving it! Wonder if I could start a trend back home? 🙂

  186. LOL Hey, it works for you! Another thing I find interesting is how color is used differently in different cultures. For example, you don’t see a whole lot of red cars in Germany – someone told me they’re considered somewhat unlucky. On the other hand, if it’s for your house – furniture, bed linens, appliances, whatever – you can get it in any color of the rainbow. Most Germans seem to have a lot of color in their homes, which I really like, because so many Americans seem to be afraid of color in anything but clothing. Since my living room windows look out on plum orchards and vineyards, I have moss-green walls and deep violet furniture, and I’m loving it! Wonder if I could start a trend back home? 🙂

  187. Perhaps this is the time to tell you that I projected your recent blog entry about your father-in-law in my 10th grade Pre-Advanced Placement English classroom this week to illustrate effective use of syntax and effective choice of detail to describe character.

  188. jeesh.
    how far does a girl scroll down around here to leave a bloody message!!!!?
    i have been reading your blog for about a year. i am not a knitter, i suppose i would consider myself a quilt artist. not a crafts person as such, but i do use traditional methods to create contemporary ideas.
    i come to you site for inspiration. of colour. of design. dedication. i consider you a fibre artist, not just a Knitter. just because it is function does not mean it isn’t art. this message is my mission.
    i enjoy your paintings immensly. cubism influence? the snowflake is uberealism!
    and have you ever thought of creating patterns from you painted works? or using knitting as your palette?
    it’s craft year 2007! fine opprotunity to take advantage!

  189. Reminds me of our kitchen when mom painted the various cabinets brown, avocado green, and orange with yellow walls.
    I’m not sure the blue cuff qualifies…. a new limitation on palette.
    After comments, it says ‘check back’?? What’s that?

  190. I think a motif like that is wonderful – because it isn’t obvious.
    My parents had floor-to-ceiling blue velvet draperies in that exact color back in ’74, so yeah, the blue counts. 🙂

  191. Don’t ever think that because you are not creating “art” with charcoal, pastel, acrylic or oil that what you do is not art. Each and every time you create something from fiber, which you do with alarming regularity, you are creating art. Art that makes so many of us marvel at your ability to create beauty out of a pile of woolly fuzz.

  192. There were never any appliances that shade of blue.
    And I have to confess I’ve still got an aversion to many shades of green. When we were first married, (mumble-32-mumble years ago) all of our friends had green sofas, green carpeting, green drapes.
    The first things we bought were grey/brown/tan/white/gold (sofa and loveseat, one rug, one set of curtains – and we still have the sofa, the loveseat and the rug). I can stand dark greens in clothing, but I still won’t buy it in anything house-related.
    But coppertone – that I could still go for, only there’s none in your sweater. Yet.

  193. That’s okay. My knitting these days is limited by what is in my stash…and it only fills half a garbage bag so it’s not that much yarn at all. But oh, the possibilities. *wink*

  194. Thank you for expressing your ideas on artistic limits. I am a fiber artist, and now a yarn shop owner striving to reconcile the two. For the past couple of years I have enjoyed living vicariously through my customers ( not that I haven’t been knitting – I have!), and I love encouraging them in their projects. As an artist I tend to be all over the place until a certain idea compels me to focus in. Now if I could intentionally impose boundaries on the front end of an idea, I might get somewhere quicker! By the way, your paintings made me want to weave them. On another side note – Van Gogh never paid the rent within his life time.

  195. I love your snowflake and your trees and the mosques are beautiful! 70’s appliance colors, oh dear, I don’t see that much avocado in there. It could be the winter weather too, I naturally turn to more muted earthy tones in the winter.

  196. Your sense of comic timing is wonderful – I was thinking how beautiful the bohus is looking and loving the ring of colors, and then I see “70’s appliance colors” and I almost died laughing. That is brilliant.

  197. i’m reading a bio of e.e. cummings right now, and he considered himself a visual artist as much as writer for much of his life. interesting that his poems hold as much importance for their visual asthetic as his use of language. (he couldn’t pay the rent with his art in either form, even when he was in his 40s…not to be discouraging or anything)
    I believe that art is making sense – or nonsense – of the world we live in, be it through words, color, fiber, music, you name it. small wonder, then, that so many artists have multiple mediums with which to express themselves.

  198. hey! formandilne0207.jpg looks remarkably like a couple of balls of yarn and a knitting needle….

  199. I really enjoy the fact that the child in the drawing is represented as clearly not enjoying the portrait process. My parents have pastels of me and my brother. I could have sat for hours for the woman who drew them, but my brother was upset and fidgety, and therefore his face does not look quite right in a pursed smile.
    She should have just given him the squinched eyes and hollering mouth that he gave her.

  200. From my own family, I’ve tended to think of artistic sensibilities going towards either visual or aural. My dad is creatively attuned towards making music. My mom & I are much more visual, with expressions via painting, photography, knitting & quilting. I hadn’t even thought of adding in writing until I read your posting. For me, words are fairly difficult & clunky. ps – the painting with the green circles is my favorite of the bunch.

  201. Sure, it’s why Shel Silverstein and James Thurber made such charming illustrations for there writings. It’s why E.E. Cummings painted , it’s why David Bowie paints. Why Frank Lloyd Wright and Mies van der Rohe not only created buildings, but decorated the inside of them as well. Why so many knit bloggers write entertainingly and take nice photographs. Creative people create.

  202. Loved the paintings – thanks for sharing them with us. I really liked the progression from snowflake to color study, and while I could see the items in each of the more realistic paintings, it’s the color study that’s most evocative for me. There’s a joy and abandon in that color study that comes across even in a digital picture across the internet. I’d say your an artist.

  203. I know. I keep buying the same blue/green colors of yarn over and over again. When I used to buy nail polish, I would come home with the same shade of mauve, utterly convinced that THIS time I had the most bee-you-tee-full color for my nails. But it was. exactly. the. same.as. all. the. rest. Hmmm. I see a doctoral disstertation in this color preference thing.

  204. Oh I was laughing because I was thinking – that’s avocado and harvest gold! I do love your paintings, esp those of the trees and mosques.

  205. Stephanie, thank you for sharing another wonderful and interesting facet of the Yarn Harlot with us.
    Indeed it is interesting the effect that motherhood has upon us….70’s appliance colors…hmmmm. Perhaps you can expand into 70’s shag carpet colors next. 😉
    It was a pleasure seeing you at Madrona. I’ve posted our photo on my blog…http://sereknitty.com/?p=169
    We both look good (IMHO) given the time of day and all of the wonderful yarn in the next room calling our names….

  206. Really, Stephanie, you have some sort of mind-reading mojo going on – you can sense when a topic secretly obsesses your readers, and then you write about it and set us all off.
    I come up against this dilemma almost daily. I don’t identify myself as an artist publicly, because then people say, “do you sell your work?” and I am hopelessly inept at selling my work. But as others have pointed out, some of the greatest artists of the past were, too.
    If you consider “artist” as a way of life and a state of mind, there is no doubt. I live through my eyes and revel in the visual wonder of the world. I make quilts. I paint and collage. I take photographs. I knit. I spin. I write a lot. And I’m about to make a film. (Yeah, that one surprises me, even.) When quilting and knitting, I make my own designs as I go, and my mind hungers for the next visual challenge or treat. I can’t make enough to exhaust the urge to make – it’s a constant flow that continues in my mind even when my hands are still.
    Can we agree to stop looking for some sort of approval, and just DO it? Do we really need somebody out there to stick an official badge on us that says ARTIST in order to keep indulging in these pursuits that tend to lack financial incentive but are immensely fulfillng in themselves?
    I keep thinking of the shawl in the forest, too – just keep it up, Stephanie (and the rest of us,) – let there be no doubt!!

  207. The Delaunay couple are two of my favorite artists. The Simultaneous Contrasts – Sun and Moon is my favorite painting. I can see the influence. I’ve been a fan of your knitting/writing for a while, and I think your paintings are stellar, and your orphic translation is right on.

  208. Harvest Gold and Avocado Green – how quickly those colours come to mind – what a hoot!

  209. This entry touched that visual artist in me that I thought had been dormant for a long time, or at least suppressed. I hadn’t realized how I had been expressing it in my knitting until I read “What I am knitting is important to me, not just because it is expressive… but because it keeps me in touch with colour, flow, line and artistic limits. Knitting has a natural set of limits…and it gives me a chance to divine new limits for myself, and sometimes I don’t even know what they are until I’ve been doing it for a while.” Yarn and needles have become my palette as much as oils and pencils once were. Through my knitting, I push my own limits of what I think I can do, and what I think I can do has grown over time, due to my knitting. It’s so far from the original mental image I had of knitting, as something homey and quaint, that it surprised me when I realized it. Thanks for uncovering that.

  210. It’s all becoming clear to me, now that you pointed it out why I pick those colors. I secretly miss my Sears stove and frig in harvest gold. Sue

  211. well I have to agree with the others the 70’s
    colors weren’t that bad. The just make me realize how old I am getting.
    I love the colors you are useing for the sweater.
    they are just beautiful!! reminds me of a crisp sunny fall day.

  212. Your writing is brilliant. Your knitting is brilliant. Your painting is brilliant. You are a Renaissance woman.

  213. well I have to agree with the others the 70’s
    colors weren’t that bad. The just make me realize how old I am getting.
    I love the colors you are useing for the sweater.
    they are just beautiful!! reminds me of a crisp sunny fall day.

  214. Hi. I like your geometric phase art a lot, especially the snowflake and the mosque painting.
    I guess everybody, in a conscious or subconscious way, has a favourite colour palette. I am knitting a scrap afghan, every colour I have in my leftovers stash, and it’s weird how some colours or shades are notoriously absent. And others show up again and again. Also, if you check my stash blog, or even my clothing, some colours are missing or only show up once or twice. And it’s weird, because one of the colours that is missing, in my case, is yellow, and I do like yellow, but it seems I don’t know how to work with it unless it is fiery-almost-orange-yellow, or mustard yellow. On the other hand, I seem to gravitate towards blue, dark red, a bit of shady pink, some browns, some oranges and some greens. Over and over again.

  215. I’ve given this topic some thought. All throughout grade school and secondary school, it was all about art. I was set. I was heading to art school. Then things happened (I admit, I was one of those teen mothers, scourge of society, I know) and I ended up finishing school as an english major. I then went to get my MFA in creative writing. That degree ruined me for poetry as I don’t write or read much of the stuff these days. But it made me wonder if I had inadvertently sacrificed poetry for visual art. Had I gone to art school, would I have experienced the same burn out, never to pick up the paintbrush again?
    I think your uncle made, probably the most practical argument I’ve heard, as far as deferring the artist/writer label. Only in my thirties am I discovering what label really fits me. I am both an artist and a writer, but more than that. I am a maker and creator. I am a mother. I am a teacher. Knitting is my vocation. Much more than a hobby. A friend of mine pointed out that my art was functional – I paint furniture. I mosaic walls. I knit sweaters. Functional. Practical. I’ll gladly take that.

  216. That ending put tears in my eyes. Must have been the giggling.
    I would cheerfully own ANY of those paintings. I’d even hang them in my living room.

  217. Gorgeous stuff everywhere, and the colors are fantastic. I had the sickening realization last night that not only is the majority of store-bought wardrobe white, black, or grey – the majority of my knitting projects are as well. Talk about limiting the palette…

  218. I would have so totally bought that Snowflake pic! I love it! And Trees – I saw candles, but I love it too!

  219. Clearly, Tina at BMFA clued in early to your love of 70’s appliance colors when she dyed you Harlotty.
    And I love those abstract paintings.

  220. My favorite part of this post is the pictures of your paintings. The first, the snowflake? Blues, blues, and more blues…and then in each subsequent painting, there is less blue, more variation. It’s as if you are taking control of the entire color pallette, one color at a time.
    That being said, once you’ve taken control of color in general, you can zero in on whatever color(s) attract you in the moment.
    And hey – at least you aren’t channeling Xanadu colors…yet. 😉

  221. The Bohus is gorgeous, and (as others have said) very much in keeping with colors you’ve been using a lot recently.
    Oddly enough, both “Mosques” and the painting following it remind me a lot of the quilts of Michael James.
    It’s true that certain colors just “speak” to certain people. For me, the ones that shout the loudest are teal and burgundy.

  222. >Clearly I am choosing to express myself these days, by working within the limited palette of
    Sunshine. Jeez, Stephanie, Sunshine! not 70’s appliance colors (or colours). Thought it made me laugh and snort coffee out my nose.

  223. Um, YUP. Conjuring up an image of our old ‘harvest gold’ & avocado kitchen…those were the days.
    Another English major/writer/artist here (my email is ‘artfulscribe’ lol). Even though I have a mindnumbingly uncreative day job, I still manage to create art and exhibit. I took up knitting because I work in a very labor intensive medium, and sometimes I just need to do something with my hands that’s not so…I dunno…INTENSE. No major decisions to make, just pick up a pattern and go. I don’t believe in boundries when it comes to creativity, though, and yarn is a perfectly valid medium as far as I’m concerned. It’s just that sometimes my “vision” for yarn is way ahead of my ability, LOL.

  224. Stephanie
    Got us! I agree with the others who say that your colors are more autumnal beauty, than, you know, what you said. Personally the specific colors you refer to are not on my list of favorites. Chacun…
    A few folk asked about or mused on the possibility, or rather improbability, of a person “changing one’s stripes” or personal colors. I can say that I did. In the 70s and earliest 80s, I gravitated toward colors like browns, rusts, olivey greens. I think I must have looked ghastly; I truly look cadaverous in them. But I was trying to blend in with the wallpaper. I was very insecure and timid in a “too-loud-mouthed” way, if you know what I mean. In time, I shook off some of the insecurity, constrained the loud mouth somewhat but I still laugh very loudly. (When I read your blog, my cats will often come to see if I’m all right!) And my personal palette is very different. Vivid and jewel-like reds, blues, greens, burgundies. I don’t want or need to be part of the wallpaper. Those colors really suit me and I really like them. I look much better, even if I am (mumble) years old and not as svelte (!) as when I was young. But ask me what my favorite color is, and I can’t answer. I passionately love COLOR.

  225. Having recently completed 25 years as a planner at Rhode Island School of Design, I can tell you that many of the best artists “bleed” from one medium into another. David Macauley (“The Way Things Work”, “Cathedral”, “Rome”) was an architecture major; Chris Van Allsburg (“Polar Express” and lots of other kids books) was a sculpture major. What I want to know is – what about your knitting is NOT art? Fran

  226. You are not the only artist using a limited color palette. Remember Picasso’s blue period?

  227. You say 70’s appliance colors and I say colors from spring and fall. Actually with all the yellows and golds by first reaction was sunshine, which might have something to do with the lack of it outside my office window – grey, dreary, seriously cold, February weather in the city, makes me want to run away to Mexico or the Cayman Islands until I think how badly my bathing suit would fit and I’m back to grey – yuck! And as one who’s kitchen countertop is still deep pumpkin and will remain so until college tuition no longer looms in my immediate future (damn kids), what’s wrong with 70’s appliance colors anyway?!

  228. This is a great post Stephanie. Thank you for sharing your art with us. I had no idea you were a painter. And you are – a painter – they are great pieces. You should be proud.

  229. Hi Steph, I’m back again. I just showed your paintings to my four-year-old daughter. She insisted, “All your quilts look like knitting needles!”

  230. Many of your paintings remind me of Alice Starmore’s Celtic Collections. I would love to see you design a colorwork sweater based upon those paintings. Something to think about.

  231. Ah, you struck a chord with me too. We all have our favorite colors. The ones that speak to us. I can hardly ever pass up something red. I usually buy the jewel tones when I’m knitting for me, but since I make so much for others, I buy those colors too. I’m really spreading into green these days, but only buy orange for my brother Andy.

  232. OK, I about wet my pants laughing at the last line!!
    I too am a singer/musician, writer, knitter, who draws a bit but currently derives most of my creative satisfaction from knitting; color, design, execution etc.
    I also own a harvest ‘guld’ refrigerator. Granted, it’s sequestered in the basement. . .

  233. What makes you think knitting isn’t art?
    Some of the most famous painters never earned a penny from their art, but they most certainly were artists.
    Fiber is just another medium.

  234. Hee Hee! Yes, but if it makes you happy, and inspires you to great things, so what? Besides, you know those colors have got to come back into style at some point – and you’ll be deemed ahead of your time! Carry on! I have been sewing since I was 10 (clothes), quilting the past 20 years, and picked up knitting again a couple of years ago – and for me it comes down to playing with the patterns, textures and colors. I have more fun matching combinations and planning a project sometimes, than I do the actual process of creating. I am always surprised when someone comments that they just can’t put color combinations together, when it comes so easy to me. I am thankful that I have that gift, as it makes the rest of it fall into place! And, I almost always fall back to RED!

  235. omg! Thank you for such a good chuckle! You sucked me in with the eloquence of your words and the beauty of your paintings that I never even saw a punchline coming. Oh, and by the way, I too think the combo of creative genres/media is common. I was an English major and teacher now turned “fiber artist.” I came to realize 3 years ago in a fit of needing to go to the store and purchase yarn and crochet hooks at 9:30pm that I am just not a happy person if I have no creative outlet.

  236. I love the snowflake! It’s pretty. I like blue. I knit a lot of blue, so I feel you shock at finding that you were knitting a lot of the same colors. Even if they are appliance colors. =D I love the sweater. I want to touch it.

  237. Trust me – the 70’s colors weren’t that bad — I’m old enough to remember the 1950’s pink and turquoise !! To think of them and Bohus together in ANY way, makes me shudder !!
    Love your blog – wish we were neighbors!

  238. You made me laugh out loud with that last line. Thank you.
    I love the paintings, particularly the snowflake and the trees. You shouldn’t abandon it totally.

  239. Is anyone else looking at some of those paintings and thinking: “Mmmm, would make a great modular knitting pattern…”
    Or maybe it’s just me…

  240. I would buy your art, sadly i’m a student and totally poor, but one day when i’m not a student i plan on buying art that at least looks like yours. it’s totally my style

  241. Damn…I used to have a Frigidaire in just that color! (tee.hee.)
    Seriously see the snowflake in a sweater, though… 🙂

  242. Steph, I was revisiting your paintings while on terminal voice mail (“you call is very important to us, but not important enough to hire more people to answer the phone…”)….
    and it struck me. You were losing your blue.
    If those paintings are in chronological order, you start out with all blue, then at least 50% blue with the trees, then about 25% blue with the mosques, maybe 12-15% blue in color and form, and maybe 5% in the color study.
    Just sayin.’

  243. Absolutely fantastic ending…I loved reading this post and that last bit was quite a rewarding finish!

  244. i love your ’70 appliance-esque project. it speaks to my childhood in the same way that the show ‘the streets of san francisco’ does. or would. you know what i mean.
    the comfort colorway.

  245. WOW…291 comments! You can’t possibly read all of them, can you? I can understand why so many people visit your blog though, it’s such a treasure chest!
    I’ve just finished reading your book “Knit’s End…” It has given me so much joy. So many laughs. Can’t share them with my family, sad to say they don’t knit. But I’ve used your words to help them understand me. I’m greatful for your help in that.
    One of your many fans in Sweden, BM in Stockholm.

  246. Of course you’re an artist! It’s just harder to call oneself an artist (than a writer) because of all the baggage that goes along with it. It’s like calling oneself an angel or a saint–it is a title that others bestow on you–but lookie here–look at all the people who’ve named you an artist.
    Making art is just another way of communicating–visually instead of verbally–and obviously you’ve a talent for communication!
    So now your visual communication has a tactile element–and you can wrap yourself and your loved ones in it. What could be better?
    The 1970s appliance colors were an attempt to bring nature into the house–right? Harvest gold, avocado. I imagine you probably draw your pallete from the natural world and aren’t as influenced by appliances as you like to joke about. But maybe you are–what color is Mr. Washie after all?
    Thank you for sharing your art work–it was a delight to see.

  247. Damn, you’re good! You already know this, of course-once an artist, you can’t get rid of it. It may go on vacation for a while, but it’s still a part of you.

  248. My art degree paid my rent, mortgages and put 2 kids through college so I guess that means I’m an artist, though it has been mostly corporate communications and newspaper pages — realism gives way to financial reality.
    Rename that colorway as spring growth, if the appliance thing bothers you. I love it, the colors of tiny curled fronds pushing their way to the sun.

  249. You can always open your knitting soul to the possibility of shag carpet colours of the 70’s. I remember some truly stunning red and black shag and some teal and olive shag (both of which attracted white dog hair at a rate that necessitated twice-daily vacuuming). Yep. 70’s shag could open a whole new world for you.

  250. I still have some of those small 70’s appliances in the green–I never liked the harvest gold myself. I’m glad you knit with the golds and greens, it helps to even out the yarn supply. I always use blues/purples/reds. I’ve never even owned any clothing in greens and golds! So, you go girl. don’t purchase any of those blues/purples and reds; same them for those of us who are stuck in that rut!

  251. I still have some of those small 70’s appliances in the green–I never liked the harvest gold myself. I’m glad you knit with the golds and greens, it helps to even out the yarn supply. I always use blues/purples/reds. I’ve never even owned any clothing in greens and golds! So, you go girl. don’t purchase any of those blues/purples and reds; same them for those of us who are stuck in that rut!

  252. Thank you for your thoughts on limits. As an artist – hell, as a person – I’ve always seen limits as, well, limiting. And that always carried a negative message. But now I see that limits are actually freeing, much the same as I’ve come to see structure as a framework to hang creativity on. You are so right-on, boss and groovey! (The aqua bathtub in my house is actually from the 50’s but that yellow fridge is definately 70’s.)

  253. I certainly didn’t see the punchline coming, but I had noticed your color palatte. So very different from mine, but as Dee said, Chacun …
    Once at Stitches, I had just purchased some Nancy Finn Chasing Rainbows black, olive and orangish/coppery thick and thin chunky yarn and some Brooks Farm yarn in a pale green/lavendar combination. Someone who I barely knew asked incredulously whether I was going to knit things for myself with those wildly different color schemes. She made me question myself for a few minutes. But both have been knit up to rave reviews. Sometimes it doesn’t hurt to buy something that we think is strange – my mom, who is almost 85 (oh my goodness how did that happen!) once talked of forcing herself to buy a dress in a different color. But she has said she is old enough to wear colors like bright pink again. At knitting conferences, it is fun to see the same pattern knitted in so many color ways. I still may wonder – what was she thinking when she chose avocado green for that (whatever that is), but I love the artistry of it all.

  254. We built this house in Lancaster in 1973. When we moved in, we had orange shag carpet; an avocado refrigerator, cook top, and dishwasher; and two harvest gold bathrooms. Now we have silver gray tile and plush carpet; a white refrigerator; a black cook top and dishwasher; and two harvest gold bathrooms. I also still have a lot of kitchen and bed linens in orange, gold, and avocado.
    However, I did learn my lesson. When we built our Palm Desert house in 2003 I was a little less trendy in permanent and semi-permanent fixtures. The tile is white, the bathrooms are white, and the kitchen appliances are stainless (except for the white fridge). On the other hand, the carpet is bright berry red because that’s easy to replace.
    I love playing with color. I have coloring books of geometric, tessellated, art nouveau, art deco, op art, and other designs and I love to make several copies of a page on cardstock or watercolor paper and color each in a different colorway. I use markers, pastels, oil pastels, crayons, colored pencils, aquarelle pencils, ink, and watercolors. Sometimes I have to push myself to use colors I’m not so fond of, like browns and tans and greens.
    Now and then, when I get a result I really like, I turn it into needlepoint. As a result, I’ve got some really colorful pillows. They’ve taken over this house and are about to establish a beachhead at the new house. Some of the pillows I like best are the ones with the colors I’m not so fond of, which probably goes to show something or another.

  255. It’s time to break out of your “old familiar ways” in color. Bright colors can make the coldest of winters warm and comforting, not to mention, being a constant reminder of the coming spring.
    Grab some “different” color combinations like red/pink….and don’t save it for a Valentines party…..purple/orange……red/orange. With the right balance of color, you can walk out of your house in a great mood, no matter what the weather or circumstances.
    Maybe it’s my S.A.D., but the more color the better. It’s amazing what color can do for your state of mind.

  256. This was fun to see your paintings. I’ve been seeing a lot of artwork lately as my younger son is busy preparing portfolios to apply to college design programs. We’ve also been going to galleries and art museums more than usual as I told myself I would whenever he got a whim to do so.
    Also – I’ve noticed over the years that I very often will work/play in basically one color palette for about 3 – 6 months. It shows up in many places – knitting, quilting, and my artwork. And sometimes in clothing that I buy at the time as well. I always find that interesting…and kind of soothing too.
    And, in response to what you’ve noticed…I’ve been both writing and creating art (in traditional forms or in quilting etc.) since I was young. Lately I’ve realized that my two sons also do the same thing but in different forms – the older one designs websites and enjoys photography and writes for high-tech review sites, and the younger one does all kinds of artwork – painting, drawing mostly AND writes music with lyrics constantly. So yes, your theory holds true for us. My hub, the non-creative one does none of these things.

  257. Wow, this post has really hit close to home with me. I feel the same way about knitting and its relation to painting. Being as I have not painted in what feels like a very long time, knitting is how I get my color-fix, how I get to play with color and form. It is in a huge way an extension of the mental process of painting without the physical act of it.
    We all definitely have our very own palette of colors that define us. Whenever I see “appliance colors from the 70’s,” I always think of you now. 🙂

  258. Hey_ I’ve emailed you a few times with some info about a donation for a prize for knitters w/o borders, and I am afraid you haven’t been getting them! I know you’re very busy, but please let me know if you have/have not got the message and photo. thanks

  259. Sorry my comment is late, but those colors remind me of the Swedish flag, blue and yellow, so I think they are perfect, very fitting. Knit on!

  260. Sorry my comment is late, but those colors remind me of the Swedish flag, blue and yellow, so I think they are perfect, very fitting. Knit on!

  261. Totally catching up on my bloglines…I LOVE those paintings…the geometrics and the color (or colour, lol – read that one too!). I hope you’ve used the snowflake one as a holiday card already…cause you should!

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