Casting off, casting on.

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I was going to write about this on Monday, but today is suddenly the right day. As most of you know, I choose a fine Canadian sock yarn to see the world with each book. (The first time it was Koigu, the second time it was Fleece Artist.) That yarn becomes the travelling sock, the sock that meets knitters, soaks up their knitting mojo, cheers on other socks and poses with everything local and interesting for the duration of a whole book tour, which in my universe, usually spans until the next book comes out. I knit a round or two on the socks every time I do something interesting or go somewhere neat and I stretch out the pair. I’ve been thinking for the last little while about what yarn I would choose…it needed to be Canadian and it needed to be very beautiful, since both you (if you’re planning on still reading the blog) and I are going to be seeing a lot of it over then next while. I rooted through the stash, I pondered the possibilities…and then it came to me. I have two skeins of Painted Yarns merino two ply that are unbearably beautiful, and they have been weighing on me heavily, since I knew the dye-mistress, Virginia van Santen was not at all well…and not dyeing anymore.

As a matter of fact, I knew that Virginia was terminally ill with cancer. I loved this yarn, but I didn’t know how to use it. How do you use yarn that was handpainted by a woman who won’t ever make more? What do you have to knit out of it to honour that sort of legacy? My angst was compounded by knowing she was one of us. I didn’t know Virginia, other than virtually, but she was a blogger, a commenter, a knitter and a member of our community. What can you knit to do that justice?

A pair of travelling socks. That’s what. I wrote away to make sure that Virginia would like that…that she would think it was charming rather than dorky, that she would be pleased, rather than freaked out by the nomination. I got the go from a friend in touch with Virginia and I put my two skeins out on the counter to choose. There was Spring Greens and June Gardens.

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I was torn. Both are beautiful. I pondered and pondered, planning on making a decision Monday morning when I posted about deciding to use the yarn, making a big plan to take the yarn places that Virginia couldn’t go. Taking the yarn to knitters she couldn’t have time to meet…to adventures every yarn should have. Tough call. I wanted it to be a lot of fun for Virginia to watch the yarn travel around, slowly becoming socks.

Twopainted1503

Sadly, I opened my mail this morning to learn that Virginia had passed away today, gently, with love and before I could take any of her yarn anywhere.

Chosesnv1703

Somehow, it doesn’t feel too late. I picked the spring greens, for spring is rebirth, fresh starts and something new from the cold of a long winter…

Viginiaspringgreens1703

… and I cast on.

Castonvirginia

I hope the legacy Virginia left, her words on her blog, every beautiful thing she made with her two hands, and all of us knitters slipping her beautiful yarns between the fingers of our hands does something to comfort those who will miss her most.

Safe Journey Virginia. Thanks for the yarn.

213 thoughts on “Casting off, casting on.”

  1. My sympathies for your loss. I think your choice of the spring greens is a wonderful tribute.

  2. Peace. Strength. Comfort. I wish her friends and family those gifts. Lovely tribute.

  5. As I sit here nursing and reading, I’m reminded again–by your post–that life is so precious. It’s good to know that there are people in the world who appreciate the impact one individual makes. hoprfully Virginia’s family and friends can celebrate her with joy.

  6. Thank you so much for doing this, Stephanie. Virginia was told about this yesterday and she understood and was pleased about it.
    Know, too, that the people who knew and loved Virginia will enjoy hearing about the travels of her yarn. She loved art, and she’d been knitting since she was a child.
    A memorial scholarship in her name is being set up at the University of Alberta – details will be posted on her blog when they are available.
    Heather

  9. I am all choked up.
    Safe travels to you, Stephanie, and the beautiful yarn turning into socks, and to Virginia too….

  10. I think it’s just amazing how knitting can achieve so much when it seems like a simple act. It’s a wonderful way to honor her. =) I can’t wait for your tour to start, even if I can’t participate!

  11. I’m moved to tears. What an example of the synchronicity of the universe, that you would choose her yarn at this exact moment in time. My sympathies to all of you who knew her, loved her, and lost her. It will be a very poignant sock journey. Travel well.

  12. People are always asking me why I knit…why don’t I just go out and buy socks, or sweaters, or mittens? Why bother with all the fussing and the trouble when there are a million other things I could do with my time? And since I have an extremely long list of replies to this most inane question, my reply is almost always different. However, one of the reasons on this list, and probably the reply that I give whenever I feel like being philosophical, is because knitting is a connection. Like the endless connections between the loops of yarn that slowly form garments, the process itself is a connection both to history and to each other. We knit because so many people before us knitted, and we want to carry on the tradition and pass it to the next generation, and the generation after that. But the other connection, the one to each other, is just as important, if not more important. Knitting brings us together, gives us something in common with so many people that we otherwise might never have spoken to, connects us to friends we might otherwise never have met.
    The sock you will make with that beautiful yarn is unique in its ability to form both kinds of connections. Its connection to history is obvious, since the craft of making socks has been a tradition for who knows how long. But more important is the connection it will solidify between you and your friend. She made the yarn, you turn it into something; it has both of your names on it, and it always will.
    My most heartfelt condolences on your loss. I’m sorry this got so long, but my family has lost someone dear very recently as well, and yes she was a knitter, so this is hitting a little close to home. I’ll knit an extra row tonight for you.

  14. starting my day with a few tears. that is beautiful Stephanie, the circle of life.
    jan in nagasaki.

  15. Okay, so this post has me crying. I’m sure that Virginia’s spirit will be traveling with you throughout your next tour and I hope to see you, and the sock dedicated to her memory as it’s being created.

  16. The green is a perfect choice.
    I am sorry to hear of the loss of your friend. Your creation is a perfect way to remember her and brings honor to her spirit and talent.
    Peace

  17. I’m so sorry to hear about Virginia, but I think your choice of spring green is perfect. Rebirth and renewal is all-important.

  18. This is the perfect tribute to her wonderful art. You have chosen a perfect way to celebrate her and to bring her to meet all of the wonderful people that you will meet during your travels. You are now sharing her with all of us – that is what knitting is all about. Celebrating.

  19. Travel safe, Steph. My daughter just asked me if Virginia is going back home. Dude, I sure hope so.
    Thanks for the tribute…that sock is going to be exponentially beautiful.

  21. Lovely Stephanie. The heart songs that knitting brings touch us all and you share and extend that to us – you are allowing Virginia to touch us all. Thank you.

  22. What a wonderful tribute. I look forward to seeing the places that the Virginia travelling sock appears.

  23. Stephanie, this is a loving tribute to Virginia. The green book-traveling socks will be extra special because of your dedication to Virginia. Thanks for sharing this information.

  24. Steph, all those above me said what was in my heart too. The green is perfect, and now all of *us* can think merry thoughts to accompany our Sister Knitter on her way. I look forward to seeing the sock in St. Paul; I mean to get there. I’ve inherited some balls of hand-dyed yarn too, in my favorite autumnal colors – I have no idea what to make them into. At the moment they’re resting in a basket where I stroke and admire them and think of their owner/creator. She was a fellow-re-enactor whom I never met but am connected to by our mutual interests. I hope I can find a worthy project to honor her, as you have.

  25. What beautiful yarn, and what a beautiful thing to do. I love your writing and you’re inspiring me to knit something again (I have a stash of yarn just waiting). Or at least to buy some lovely yarn.

  28. Green for when the sorrow is fresh, orange for when the memories glow happier. Maybe by June?

  29. What a beautiful tribute you are giving Virginia, Stephanie. It’s always quite startling to think of a terminally ill friend whose current Spring is her last one, or the next time you see her may be the last time you see her alive. But what a wonderful, thoughtful, creative tribute to someone who created so much beauty in the creative world. The joyous colors of Spring will keep those socks hopping and all the souls that meet up with them will help Virginia’s spirit to soar. As well as ours. Thank you for a truly thoughtful post, tour and tribute.

  30. Hi Stephanie,
    I’ve just come in. I had attended a memorial service for Professor Michael Troughton, geographer extraordinaire, community activist and a man who loved his family absolutely. I listened to stories from people from all walks of his life. The last piece of music played was I Remember You, a recording by Ella Fitzgerald. And here is your blog, giving tribute to a woman named Virginia who also has touched many people. Green is a good choice. And the children’s poetry book open beside me is open to a short poem by John Moffitt:
    To look at any thing,
    If you would know that thing,
    You must look at it long:
    To look at this green and say
    ‘I have seen spring in these
    Woods,’ will not do – you must
    Be the thing you see:
    You must be the dark snakes of
    Stems and ferny plumes of leaves,
    You must enter in
    To the small silences between
    The leaves,
    You must take your time
    And touch the very peace
    They issue from.
    With kind regards to you Stephanie and all your readers, Maureen

  31. Oh my gosh. I’m so upset! Virginia used to comment at my old blog and I emailed with her frequently.I even spoke to her on the phone several times. I have some of her beautiful yarn myself. I’m so sad to hear this news.

  32. We can honor her by all knitting a row in her name tonight. I know there HAS to be knitting in whatever afterlife we go to, so hopefully she is knitting and dyeing for a whole new group of knitters-my Grandmother Esther James for one!

  34. so sad…I read your words, I read I googled Virginia and felt so sad when I found out that she had dies today and then i read more of your words and realised that you knew that too. Those socks will be a comfort to you, but isn’t life so sad sometimes? Isend you a hug x

  35. It’s strange how sometimes we shed tears for people we never even knew, and stranger still how much people are known only after they have passed on. May her spirit find its peace, wherever it may go, and may hope and strength linger on in the fibres she left behind.

  36. What a wonderful way to pay tribute to someone who touched knitters with her beautiful work. Thank you…

  38. Stephanie,
    I’m writing through my tears. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of this, but out on the ocean, on a clear, perfect day, as the sun disappears on the horizon, as the last little bit disappears, there is something called the Green Flash. It’s last tiny bit of the spectrum, and scientists can offer a better explanation.
    It’s also the color of spring, and renewed hope.
    I think the green is the perfect choice.
    And I hope that Virginia rests easy.
    Nancy

  39. Once again, I’m reading through tears. Whether they are tears of joy, laughter, sadness or awe, you tend to inspire me to cry on a regular basis. Thank you. Virginia and her family are in my thoughts and prayers, as are you and yours as you begin your next yarn crawl.

  40. Also moved to tears here – what a beautiful tribute. I’ll be honoured to read of and see the travels of the Harlot, and the beautiful hope-full sock. Still hoping we’ll have a chance to meet the sock (and you 🙂 ) in Montreal sometime over the course of your travels. Bon Voyage(s).

  41. A beautiful way to remember a talented lady. Very touching. And to all of Virginia’s loved ones, you’re in my thoughts tonight.

  42. That is one of the sweetest things I’ve heard anyone say about another person in a long time. I think you chose the perfect yarn to honor Virginia’s memory. Spring is a time for rebirth and new awakenings. These will be the most special traveling socks you’ve ever made.

  44. i never knew virginia, didn’t know about her blog. i was visiting it just now, looking at her past posts, the items she made, and i feel so sad to have lost a member of our crafting community. life is short. warm thoughts to virginia’s loved ones. thanks steph for the lovely tribute.

  45. What a beautiful thing for you to do with your friends yarn and her memories . Her family and friends will be watching this blog I’m sure . Sincere condololences to you all .

  46. i can’t imagine a finer tribute. i feel sure virginia will still get to watch the traveling sock’s progress and smile over it.
    \

  47. Life becoming life
    Becoming life
    Becoming love
    Love becoming love
    Becoming love
    Becoming one…
    …Song becoming soul
    And soul coming from soul
    Knowing from the garden
    All there is to know
    Of the things that will
    And of the things that will not grow
    ~ Michael Nesmith, “Life Becoming”
    As so many have already commented, what a wonderful tribute. May happy memories go with you everywhere that you and the sock travel. 🙂
    ~ Sam

  48. Sadly, I just read that Virginia died this morning. That yarn is truly beautiful and will make wonderful socks. It’s a lovely tribute.

  53. I just heard that Virginia died. It is a loss to everyone when a creative person passes away. I think using the green yarn is a wonderful way to remember her.

  55. what a lovely post Steph – the greens seems absolutely perfect – so fitting for her passage. May she travel well with you during your next book tour, and remind us all of the shortness of time with those we love. it humbles me.

  59. In “The Summer Day,” Mary Oliver asks “Doesn’t everything die at last and too soon? Tell me what it is you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
    i didn’t know virginia, but it sounds like she did some spectacular things with her one wild and precious life, coaxing into being beautiful colors and textures with her own two hands. but more than the yarn she created, that action inspired people to create beauty for others and for themselves, and so on. and now, it inspires us all to knit a row or two in her honor today, creating one more connection in this community of which we are all a part. that’s pretty spectacular.
    my deepest sympathies to virgina’s family and all who loved her.

  60. Dear Stephanie,
    This is the first time I’ve stopped lurking and started commenting, but that’s a beautiful tribute to someone who lived her life doing what she loved. God Bless and show us more of that yarn!

  61. Such sad news to hear of Virginia’s passing. Maybe you can take the other skein, cut off 6 inch lenghts and pass it out while on tour. I would totally randomly knit 6 inches of the Virginia’s special yarn into my current traveling sock (which has already been all over Northern Ontario, is going to NYC, Seattle then touch the sand on the Pacific Ocean and then on to San Francisco, then back to NYC… and then over to Paris before heading home – I knit slow).

  62. Dear Stephanie,
    This is the first time I’ve stopped lurking and started commenting, but that’s a beautiful tribute to someone who lived her life doing what she loved. God Bless and show us more of that yarn!

  63. Beautifully done Steph. Beautifully done. After death is rebirth, that the cycle of life may continue. Green is perfect. These socks will be especially poignant for us all. We will watch with joy and remembrance. Thank you for sharing your life with us all – be it joyful, funny, wistful, or sad. Thank you.

  64. Thank you Stephanie, for such a beautiful post and such a beautiful tribute. It is always an honour to be a part of the amazing community of knitters and today it feels like even more so.

  66. What a beautiful way to continue to let a legacy shine! The yarn is beautiful. The knitting world has lost an incredible talent! You will do the yarn proud Stephanie I’m sure!
    Do you always cast on 1 needle and switch to 3? I usually 16, 16, and 32 on each needle as I go.

  67. I notice on her blog that they are planning to endow a scholarship at U of A. Maybe you could bring the power of knitters to get some substantial donations to that going…

  68. Wow. I never knew Virginia, but you’ve made me feel her loss. Yes, green is the right choice.
    I’ll go work on my sock now.

  69. what beautiful yarn. i had never heard of this woman but after seeing your yarn and viewing her blog and her handiwork, i sure wish i had a hank of it myself. i’ll bet she’s creating more beautiful yarns and works in a better place now.

  70. Dear Stephanie, The saddest commentary at the end of any life is to fade and be forgotten, how blessed are your friends when you take great care to ensure that doesn’t happen. Can there be a lovelier thing to say about any knitter but that when her work is done the result will warm someones heart as well as feet. Blessed be.

  71. A lovely tribute – her memory lives on even for those of us who never even knew her! Amazing what can be made with sticks and yarn and even more amazing the connections made between the people who love them.
    Safe travels, Steph.

  72. I couldn’t finish reading the comments, I’m tearing up. Your choice of the green is perfect, for the reasons you chose. They will surly be the most memorable socks you’ve ever knitted. Now, choose a pattern.

  73. on a rainy sunday morning reading your post crying. good journey to virginia and yes green is the perfect colour for new beginnings

  74. Lovely thought and I am sure she will be looking down having a laugh or two or hundred at her yarns adventure with you.

  78. Stephanie, what a wonderful tribute to a fellow knitter, I’m sure she will be sharing your newest adventures from that great knitting circle in the sky! (I didn’t realize that you did a new sock each tour, so that makes it all the more special.) Safe travels!

  79. Aww, how sad. I think, however, you chose the right colourway to become your travelling sock, and I think Virginia would be pleased.

  80. How timely…
    I found out today that my great aunt (kind of my grandmother – she took care of my mother when her mother died) may not be long for this world. Although she lives in the UK and us in Australia, and they weren’t that close, it’s hit my mother very hard, and consequently I’ve been quite upset today too.
    But she’s 93 and has had a good life, and when it’s your time, no matter how soon it is or how hard it is for your family, you just gotta let them go with love.
    I’m sorry for your loss, but glad that you’ve got a piece of Virginia to remember her by.

  81. I can’t think of a better way to honour her. I’m sure she will be remembered as more than a knitter but I feel pretty strongly that those of us who do it with passion (and a very quick look at her blg is evidence that she did) would like to be remembered with yarn and the peace that comes from turning it into something beautiful with needles, brains and coordination.

  82. How lovely that Virginia’s yarn will be viewed by so many. I will be thinking of her and praying for her daily as we follow the sock on its travels with you, Stephanie. Thank you for doing that for her and for us. Safe journeys to you Stephanie.
    May her memory be eternal.

  84. Thanks for posting Stephanie…I knew Virgina wasn’t well from her blog. She helped me choose yarn at the LYS a couple of times in the past few years and I was thrilled when she started selling her own dyed yarn because it was so beautiful. It’s great to see that you knew of her talent and are doing such a sweet thing with her yarn.

  86. I am so sorry for your loss, and I’ll be there in Petaluma to meet the sock and cheer you, and it, on. Take care.

  89. Condolences to you and to all who knew and loved Virginia. I didn’t know her, even virtually, but how lovely that she will live on and we will all get to meet and visit with her through this gorgeous yarn that she painted and handled with her own creative hands. We live on through the things we make. May Virginia live on through the travelling sock, and may she have a swingin’ good time while she’s at it!

  91. A lovely tribute. Such a beautiful legacy she has left behind. I look forward to seeing the socks’ travels. I’m sure she will, too.

  93. May Virginia rest in peace. I’m glad you chose the green yarn. What a wonderful way to honor her memory.

  94. May you always have work for your hands to do.
    May your pockets hold always a coin or two.
    May the sun shine bright on your windowpane.
    May the rainbow be certain to follow each rain.
    May the hand of a friend always be near you.
    And may your heart fill with gladness to cheer you.
    a fitting blessing for a day such as this

  95. Meg McG beat me to it: “may you always have work for your hands to do…”
    You gave Virginia a beautiful and fitting memorial.
    And green is perfect.

  97. What a wonderful way to keep Virginia’s art and spirit alive. I hope that when I die, someone I care about remembers me with a pair of traveling socks. I can’t think of anything better.

  98. The greatest tribute that can be given is to pass down the talents and spirit of those who lived. After all is said and done, the legacy remains.

  99. I knit because I can show my love by giving warmth and comfort to those who are special to me, to connect with others and to be remembered when I’m gone. To our Sister Knitter Virginia, who lived so close to me geograpicaly, yet without the yarn she gave, I may have never heard of her or her passing. Safe Journey to the Big Yarn Store in the Sky.

  100. How truly lovely, and unbearably sad. Hopefully the knowledge of what you were about to do with her yarn gave her a smile in her last moments, and now she will live on in the memories, and the stitches, of even more people than knew her in this life. May your stitches give you comfort in your memories of your friend.

  102. It’s just… not a happy beginning of the year. But it’s good that you knit something out of what you have that she’s made. It’s only fitting that you make socks, the few truly transient knitted objects that a knitter could make. I’m sure she’d love it.

  104. Stephanie, I always read but never comment on your blog – I guess everybody can put it better then me (as a non-english speaker). But now I was so touched by your post I had to comment – a touching tribute to a fellow-knitter and artist. The perfect way to be remembered – through her work, her yarn.

  106. My wishes of peace and comfort to Virginia’s friends & family.
    The green is glorious, and a fitting tribute to a fellow knitter.

  107. I had the good fortune to chat with Virginia regularly for the three years I lived in Edmonton, just around the corner from the yarn store where she worked. Her yarn is certainly beautiful and I will treasure the few skeins I have of it. But her knitting was absolutely amazing. Vases! Little fair-isle sculpted boxes with lids! She was one of the most creative and exacting knitters I have known, both in her use of colour and structural design, and if she were not so modest, she would have the fame of knitters like Debbie New and Kaffe Fassett.
    Virginia was kind, funny, unique, and uncompromising. I am so sad to learn of her death.

  113. I started my day tired from a poor nights sleep because my toddler had bad dreams, frustrated because my husband did not do something I had asked, annoyed because my 7 year old was bouncing around and uncomfortable because my pregnant belly is in the way and I’m feeling sore and out of sorts.
    Then I read this post and cried.
    I recently lost my grandfather to cancer, my best friend’s mom is just starting her battle. There are so many others who are watching their precious loved ones, even their little ones, battle this monster. This has put things into perspective for me.
    The laundry and the dishes can wait, I’m going to go curl up with my children.
    I hope where Virgina is she feels no pain, is well, and is surrounded by her ancestors and wool.

  114. A beautiful reason to choose a beautiful yarn, and a lovely testiment to a dyer and knitter to be remembered through the travels of a sock. My thoughts are with Virginia’s family and friends.

  115. There could be no more perfect tribute for a fibre person. You chose well. No one is truly gone as long as they are remembered. I didn’t know Virginia but now I’ll hold her in my heart.
    Towards the start of the comments Jane said that people are always asking her why she knits… why she doesn’t just buy sweaters, etc. I’m sure that we’ve all gotten that reaction from those we know and from strangers. Once, while I was demostrating spinning at our local fair, a man ask me that question. I told him all of the usual things… I enjoy it, it relaxes me, I end up with unique things that I created from a bag of wool and my imagination, it keeps me grounded, etc. He just didn’t get it. He kept coming back to “But wouldn’t it be cheaper and less trouble to buy your knit goods?” Finally I asked him if he had a hobby, something he loved to do. He said that he was a amature photographer and always had his camera with him. “Well,” I said “wouldn’t it be cheaper and less trouble to buy postcards?”

  116. this writing is the one that most reminds me, in times of loss, of that death is not a diminishment but instead the completion of a beautiful circle…
    I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
    Then someone at my side says: “There, she is gone!”
    “Gone where?”
    Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
    Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: “There, she is gone!” there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: “Here she comes!”
    And that is dying.
    -Henry Van Dyke

  117. Safe journey Virginia…you leave such beauty behind for us to enjoy. Steph your choice is so perfect..this too is what we fiber artists are about, for we are a comunity who cares deeply, loves deeply, laughs deeply, cries deeply and lives as fully as possible. These traveling socks will be a wonderful rememberence for us all.

  119. What a beautiful tribute. One hopes that her family and friends can take a measure of comfort in knowing that Virginia touched so many, and will be remembered in such a positive way.

  120. There is not much I can say that others have not, I am sure. This is beautiful though, you are a wonderful and thoughtful person. Her loved ones will be touched by this, I am sure.

  121. Yesterday, rather sadly, I was wondering how she was doing and made a note to call her this week.
    I knew her personally and she was a truly inspiring person. Her passing is a loss to the knitting community everywhere. Her yarns are gorgeous and should you have any, pls remember her with every stitch.

  124. Sorry to hear about another wonderful person passing on from cancer. I know knitting her yarn now is a wonderful tribute to her and her art work.

  125. Stephanie, Only you can make me cry for someone I’ve never met. Thank you for the wonderful tribute for a fellow knitter, artist and human being. Safe travels.

  127. I had a lump of sadness in my throat from reading your post and now one of pride from reading these wonderful comments.
    I’m so happy that you have found such a perfect way to honor Virginia!

  128. If only every knitter/dyer/fibre Goddess could receive such a sweet tribute. Thank You Stephanie.
    P.S. So, Do you think you could visit Missoula,MT for your book tour? We will definitly represent.

  130. What a beautiful testimonial and a lovely way to honor an important member of the community. Thank you for such lovely words.

  131. Peace to you, Stephanie, and to all of Virginia’s family and friends.
    Peace, wonder and merriment to Virginia on her continueing journey.
    Thank you, Steph.

  132. I’m not sure what usually happens to the travelling sock, but perhaps this pair could be auctioned after the tour, for the TSF or a cancer charity…

  133. Second comment, but somebody should print out all the comments and send them to whomever Virginia was closest to — family, friend, significant other?

  134. That is the saddest most touching post. I agree the green is the better choice. I’m sure Virginia will be watching over you and the Traveling Socks.

  135. When I was a little girl, we got a phone call telling us that my grandmother had died, halfway around the world. My mother immediately went to her piano and sang a song with the line “the green leaves of summer are calling me home.” It was a very poignant moment, and somehow very peaceful. Since then, I have always connected the color green with the passing from this life. I think your choice is very appropriate, and I hope Virginia is watching–and smiling.

  139. This is a wonderful way to honor an artist. I have some of my mother-in-law’s fabric stash–she passed away in 1998, when I’d been in the family only a year–and every time I make a quilt (which is, granted, not often, but still) I include some of her fabric in it. We must use what is left behind so their lives continue in our lives.

  140. What a beautiful poem you left on Anne’s blog at knitspot. What is the title and who is the author? What an overwhelming feeling of emotion that poem pours over me when I read it.

  141. what a perfect, loving tribute–i too read this blog through tears. the picture of the yarn in the snow is what got me….
    rebirth
    thank you and i will see the sock in lexington!

  142. Go on with love Virginia — and know we’ll all remember you through Stephanie’s beautiful socks and their life through the blog . . .

  143. Beautiful tribute. I love the idea that everything you make has a part of you in it, the joys, the sorrows, the triumphs, the failures, and you continue to see the world through the objects you create after the body breaks down.
    Love and peace.

  145. A beautiful tribute, I cannot think of better. Either colour will shine, green is perfect for spring and perhaps the sunshine of the orange will be a future travelling sock.
    I make my knits, as well as my quilts, to be used, and maybe abused, and used up. I feel that is honour. Life is ever so much more precious for being so ephemeral. I don’t think the work of a crafter should hide on a shelf, or under glass, or be hung on a wall so none may touch, and I don’t think it is any less art for not being treated so. I like that a work of craft lives and grows with us and shares our experience for a time, perhaps is changed and patched and repaired and eventually passes on – as do we.
    I was not aware of Virginia’s work, so thank you for sharing it. It is sad that I will never see those yarns, but perhaps I will meet others still with her and those like her in mind.

  146. And what will you do with the socks? I wondered if you might give them to Lene to wear and take care of.

  147. What a lovely way to honor Virginia, Steph. You chose well.
    Thanks for reminding me, once again, how precious our time here is and how even the smallest touch can bring love and beauty to the world.

  148. Virginia has left more than yarn, beautiful tho it is. She and her colors will continue to touch people for a long time. She made the most of her time on earth and now you’re using her beautiful yarn to honor her memory.
    Peace,
    Lill
    “Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.” Theodore Giesel (Dr. Suess)

  149. Stephanie: I don’t know if you will ever see this comment. I was reading your entree in your blog about your attempt to obtain tickets for the Police concert. You should join me. If I go, it will be by working at the concert. I did The Stones and Jimmy Buffitt concerts that way. I get to observe the behavior of concert-goers (which is interesting in itself) and see parts of the concert.
    But, I suggest you contact Sting and see if he would like a pair of knitted socks.

  150. I think the Spring Greens is the perfect choice. And remember from Virginia’s blog:
    My goal is to have colors that sing to me. I hope that you too will hear and feel the music.
    – Virginia
    I too hope you hear and feel the music Virginia painted into the yarn.

  151. Good choice on the green.
    I didn’t know Virginia, but am sorry to hear of her passing.
    My prayers and wishes to the whole family-both relations, and knitting extended family.
    Vicki

  152. Re: Virginia van Santen
    As I read blogs and wonder to other sites that are mentioned in the entrees, I learn about other people. I spent time doing a read of Ms. van Santen’s history through her blog. She was quite talented and interesting. I hope that she gets to continue doing what she loved–painting with fiber. She did wonderful work.

  153. I had a good cry yesterday when I read this, despite not knowing Virginia or her work… I spent the night pondering life and death. Today I came again to pay my respects, as it were, and re-read the title. Jane Siberry’s “The Vigil” came to mind… a song that without fail leaves me weeping with abandon. With respects to Ms. Siberry, the first few lines of “The Vigil.”
    “Sail ho, heave ho, come on, let go. Your time on earth is over.
    I watch you sleeping on the bed; I’m talking to your soul…
    did you ever think it’d be like this?
    did you ever think you’d laugh so much?
    did you ever think you’d have to try so hard?”
    Casting off, indeed. Fair sailing, Virginia.

  154. The green is beautiful. I am so sorry to hear of her passing. I saw all of the beautiful pictures of her creations on her blog. They are inspirational. Jane, your posting was wonderful, it certainly puts what the energy behind knitting into wonderful, eloquent words.

  155. I just found myself here after completing the “Very Harlot Poncho.” Wonderful Stephanie. I lost a soulmate and friend last March and I think your blog entry and selection of Spring Greens is a moving testimony to Virginia and all the loved ones that touch our lives so beautifully.
    I’ll be visiting again – Melissa

  158. Incredibly sad to read, but this post was beautiful–probably one of the best you’ve ever written. It does justice to feelings of loss which every person has felt at some point in their lives.
    I’m sure she loves your choice of yarn–the ones we love and admire never truly leave us; they continue on *through* us.
    K

  159. Although I didn’t know of Virginia’s work until this moment, it is clear from her blog that she was a Master Knitter and a Good Soul. My thoughts are with her tonight.

  162. Thank you Stephanie for this loving homage to a fellow knitter and fiber artist. I am forever astounded ( and pleased) at the healing power of knitting and all the related “fiber arts”—knitting with love–socks from Virginia’s yarn— that is the ultimate honor.

  163. Oh wow, Steph, that’s just beautiful and such an approprite use for Virginia’s yarn. I’m sure her family and friends will find comfort in your honoring her this way.

  164. You hardly need me in here with all those other comments, but well thought and well said, Steph. I think she is laughing gently right now at your words.
    Now you carry the flag onwards. That’s what we do.
    Jo

  166. I’m really saddened to hear the news about Virginia. I was sent some of her yarn as a gift and I remember she contacted me when she saw it on my blog and very kindly sent me a pattern to go along with it. I didn’t know her anymore than that, but she sounds like a good person.

  167. The things we create and leave behind are tangible memories of us.. Virginia will be remembered by those who knew her and those who did not by this tribute.. I think it is lovely.. I love the green, and it is perfect choice.. I can’t wait to see it in person in Pittsburgh..

  168. That’s a perfect tribute. I am lucky to have a beautiful skein of Virginia’s cashmere laceweight that I currently keep as a pet. She will be missed.

  170. knit on, Virginia. that was really beautiful, stephanie, i look forward to seeing the sock as it travels around the continent…

  172. I am now very sad that I will never be able to enjoy Virginia’s yarn.
    Knit on, Virginia.

  174. What a lovely tribute! I had thought that you were going to say you were going to use both, as a feather and fan or chevron sock similar to the chevron scarf that is making its way about the blogosphere. But two balls on tour is probably more trouble than it’s worth. Maybe I’ll get to see your sock this time around!

  176. What a thoughtful tribute, so kind. I did not know her, yet here I sit with tears in my eyes.

  178. I have goose bumps. Goodbye to someone I never knew but who created beautiful yarns.

  179. My best friend and I were just talking yesterday about the contribution that one little person can make in this big wide world. Thanks, Stephanie, for bringing it home. And Peace, Virginia, enjoy your soul’s new voyage.

  180. I worked with Virginia at our LYS for several years. She was a fabulous woman, stong and inspiring. I feel fortunate to have had the opportunity to know her. I’ll be sure to give everyone who knew her at the store the link to this blog entry.

  182. What a wonderful way for you to celebrate her life. Knitting is a beautiful connnection to those people who touch our lives.

  183. Darn you, woman! Why is it you can always bring me to tears with one post? I didn’t even know Virginia. I suppose it evens out, considering how much you make me laugh.
    The green is lovely and perfect, for you, for spring, for St. Patrick’s Day, and for traveling.

  184. I think you have chosen a perfect tribute to Virginia. May she rest in peace. I hope to catch up with you and the sock when you’re in Denver. The sock will have a special meaning then.

  187. Isn’t that what every artist longs for? That their art be transported beyond them, and transport those who love their work to them? I think that pair of socks might be fiber art at its best and most sublime.

  188. As so many have said, what a lovely tribute. And now I can’t help but wonder where those socks will go after they are knit. I can already feel the love and respect from the entire knitting community that will imbue every stitch — and those socks are yet but a ball of yarn. Safe travels Stephanie and blessings to you and to Virginia’s family and friends.

  191. Green the color of spring and beginning again. A great way to carry on an artist’s spirit and a wonderful tribute. Thank you sharing.

  193. Remembering what you’ve written about socks, how by definition they don’t last forever, and about how some yarn takes permanent root in the stash because if you knit it up you won’t have it any more, I thought, is she sure she wants to do this? And then I thought, of course: because, life being what it is, the best we can ever do is to walk a little way together.
    Beautiful yarn. Beautiful post.

  195. I had the wonderful opportunity to meet Virginia and went to the knitting retreat that she organized last
    February. I have many skeins of her wool & cashmere in several beautiful colourways and have been agonizing over what to knit with them, as each one is special. I called Virginia last summer and she fulfilled a custom dyeing order for me, for which I will always be grateful. I will cherish my memories of her. Nice touch, Steph.

  196. As I sat here with tears running off my nose, I felt the 27 week old little boy inside me move. I thought about the tiny green sweater I’ve knit him and of new beginnings and goodbyes. I only hope my son will live such a life as Virginia, that thousands will mourn his passing.

  197. First. I’m really sorry about your and our loss. I hate it that people have to die before their time.
    Second, and I know you are busy and that comments are probably not going to be read much because this post is older, but there is a woman, a faithful reader of your page. I met her this summer, it was a great thing, my first knitter met in the wild. And she has been battling cancer, and on her blog her husband is writing that it is time for her to come home and that they are asking for prayers for a miracle. And I was hoping that a few of your readers, and possibly you might go to her blog http://knittyref.blogspot.com and say a few cheerful words or something.
    Thanks.

  198. First. I’m really sorry about your and our loss. I hate it that people have to die before their time.
    Second, and I know you are busy and that comments are probably not going to be read much because this post is older, but there is a woman, a faithful reader of your page. I met her this summer, it was a great thing, my first knitter met in the wild. And she has been battling cancer, and on her blog her husband is writing that it is time for her to come home and that they are asking for prayers for a miracle. And I was hoping that a few of your readers, and possibly you might go to her blog http://knittyref.blogspot.com and say a few cheerful words or something.
    Thanks.

  199. First. I’m really sorry about your and our loss. I hate it that people have to die before their time.
    Second, and I know you are busy and that comments are probably not going to be read much because this post is older, but there is a woman, a faithful reader of your page. I met her this summer, it was a great thing, my first knitter met in the wild. And she has been battling cancer, and on her blog her husband is writing that it is time for her to come home and that they are asking for prayers for a miracle. And I was hoping that a few of your readers, and possibly you might go to her blog http://knittyref.blogspot.com and say a few cheerful words or something.
    Thanks.

  200. First. I’m really sorry about your and our loss. I hate it that people have to die before their time.
    Second, and I know you are busy and that comments are probably not going to be read much because this post is older, but there is a woman, a faithful reader of your page. I met her this summer, it was a great thing, my first knitter met in the wild. And she has been battling cancer, and on her blog her husband is writing that it is time for her to come home and that they are asking for prayers for a miracle. And I was hoping that a few of your readers, and possibly you might go to her blog http://knittyref.blogspot.com and say a few cheerful words or something.
    Thanks.

  201. How odd that this post was both sorrowful and somehow a comfort. We as knitters are linked by compassion simply by what we perform as craft and art. Every time we give a knitted gift to place around cold shoulders, we warm a heart. When we knit a loved one something in their favorite color, we think of them in each loving stitch. When we knit, we care.

  203. Oh, Steph.
    My heart goes out to the friends and loved ones of Virginia.
    And I add my completely unneeded vote for the hopefulness of Spring greens.

  204. I can hardly see the keys for my tears. What a wonderful tribute.
    I’m so sorry for Virginia’s friends and family.

  205. It’s a sad day when anyone passes away, let alone a talented dyer!
    We lost our Marta Cantos, colour wizard extraordinaire earlier this year – same sort of reaction.

  208. I was so lucky in having met Virginia; I once told her that I was sending some of her yarn to a swap pal in Australia, wanting to spread her artwork around the world. It got to the point shortly thereafter that I’d go in and buy some her yarn and she’d ask me where that skein was heading to. I’m going to miss her, and her support of my own knitting and blogging habit.
    When I read your post today I was reduced to a pile of tears. She was an awesome lady, and so inspirational. Thanks for being inspiring yourself, and for doing such a fantastic tribute.

  209. I am so sorry for your loss. I can’t think of a better tribute than spreading spring, love and wool.

  210. I was shocked to hear of Virginia’s illness and passing – it wasn’t that long ago that I was chatting with her at one of our LYSs about all sorts of things that we had in common. She had brought me (a complete stranger) a leftover skein of Briggs & Little yarn from her own personal stash so I could add a late-addition hood to my son’s jacket. My favorite ball of sock yarn in the world was one of her beautiful hand paints. I had used it to edge a shawl but had lots left over and last week, without knowing a thing about her illness, I chose it as the yarn I was going to learn to knit socks with. I knew that I could rip it back and re-knit it without frustration, because the colours are so beautiful, I never tire of working it! Now it seems like a fitting tribute to this talented and helpful woman, and I’ll be thinking of her as I knit (and likely frog and re-knit) my first socks!

  211. What a gloriously touching way to honor the memory of a wonderful member of our growing family. These will be the best travelling socks yet.

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