Today started innocuously enough. I woke up, had a muffin, and continued knitting on my Very First Sock, which I started yesterday while watching Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds (awesome, by the way). I was babbling to my brother about my sock and my courage in attempting it, when I mentioned that the yarn–a very cheap acrylic, not the nice kind of acrylic that is a poor college student’s best friend–was rather rough, especially for something to be worn directly on the skin. I let him reach out and feel it, during which he exclaimed, “Dear God! I thought you wanted to be able to wear these.” A couple minutes later, my sympathetic and ever-indulgent brother agreed to not only take me to two yarn stores to buy softer, better sock yarn, but to trade in the aluminum cans we’ve been waiting to recycle and give me the money so I could actually buy it.

Soon, we were on our way. We traded a ridiculous amount of cans ($30 worth, which if you know anything about recycling is a crapload of cans), then headed toward a yarn store a city or two away that I had never been to. I loved it because it was friendly and warm; I loved it so much, in fact, that I let the lady talk me into buying what I have since dubbed the Crack Yarn:

Adriafil’s Knitcol, #048 (Lot 0002), merino
And I bought this fully knowing that I would be heading to a yarn store that had a wider selection of sock yarn, too. Alas, I am now committed to it at this point.

So we headed to the next yarn store, where the selection is wonderful but the people are not-so-friendly. I looked around a bit, but not much because I was afraid of making eye contact with the unfriendly people. I saw a yarn I liked, grabbed it, and paid for it while fending off the cashier’s Addi Turbo advances ($17.50 for one pair of needles that I could buy on KnitPicks for $5, while matching the ones I already have?! No thanks.).

And then. I saw the yarn I had been looking at online. These gorgeous Lorna’s Laces colorways (pictures from their site):

Happy Valley

Rainbow

So beautiful. As I quickly realized my oversight, I also realized that my previous purchase was already being wound into a ball and that I feared the wrath of the yarn ladies, so, I did not buy the yarn that I had actually set out to buy and loved more than either of my actual purchases. Sigh. However, I do love the yarn I did end up buying at the second store:

Cherry Tree Hill Supersock, Java (Lot 216), merino

At least it’s a color scheme that fits the weather and my style a bit more. I’ve promised myself, though, that if I manage to finish knitting the socks I’ve started on this yarn, I will allow myself to buy the other two yarns I covet.
And that is all for my adventures in knitting today.

So, remember that faceless, hairless, non-descript polymer clay bust I posted pictures of in March?

Behold.

I’ve named her Nandi. I went searching a bit through some African history to find a name/personality that suited her, and this was perfect. Nandi gave birth to an illegitimate son, Shaka, who later went on to become a feared and ruthless warrior and king of Zululand. Both of their early lives were miserable, despite the greatness Shaka eventually achieved. It felt right to credit my sculpture to her because although she has a queen-like feel, her eyes are somewhat sad and lack the pride and arrogance of a queen born into power.

The process: first she was sculpted with Super Sculpey (with an aluminum foil core), as previously documented. I put her into the oven, where she was nearly burnt to death and came out highly plaqued (white half-moon marks show up on the surface of the clay). Discouraged, I let her sit in my WIP drawer for a few months. This last week, though, I decided to finish her up. I airbrushed her skin tone on with model paints; then I added the hair, clothing, and jewelry (done in Premo and Kato clay). Finally, I painted her eyes and lip color with more model paints, and then shined them up a bit with Sculpey glaze.

Although she clearly has many flaws– my fingerprints baked into the clay, a lack of symmetry (especially considering how the nose is crooked in relation to her chin), not particularly smooth, and a rather terrible mouth–I’m quite proud because she was the first sculpture I had done in almost seven years. (The last thing I sculpted was a Jimi Hendrix doll for an 8th grade art project when I was 14.) She was a great experience to get me back into the sculpting game (even if it was a six-month-long experience), and I can already tell that I’ve improved since I started her.

For old times’ sake, here’s what she used to look like:

And now here she is. Voila! Nandi.

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Posted by admin at 11:53 am