sneak peek #4: cottage garden
Tuesday, August 14, 2012 at 10:02PM I've had an epiphany.
I don't have many.
A peek into my epiphanies could be disturbing, given that an epiphany is supposed to represent some kind of higher order thinking that suddenly occurs to you. What's scary is what constitutes higher order. When you're starting with a low baseline, there's a lot of room for pretty dumb epiphanies.
For example, when I started dyeing, I had one pitcher for mixing colors. I mixed up the green, put it on the yarn, then dumped out whatever was left of the green, and mixed up the pink, put it on the yarn, went back to the sink and mixed up the brown. Repeat until you cry or fall asleep, whichever comes first. It never occurred to me that I might want multiple pitchers.
Until one day when that yard-sale, 1970s amber glass pitcher broke, and I cried. Scouring ebay for an exact replacement, it occurred to me that I could get a lot of pitchers and mix up a WHOLE BUNCH OF COLORS AT ONE TIME.
Whoa.
Deep stuff there, Yarnista.
Here's my latest epiphany, humble though it may be.
I have multiple hard drives -- and a cloud drive -- chock full of pictures. The pictures live in a virtual world. A few I post here. A few I post on my website. A few I have printed and give to someone. 99.5% of them are looked at periodically and never leave my computer.
I realized that this system is shortchanging my children. My kids don't have access to my cloud drive. Yes, I can show them some pictures, but they will probably never see them again after that initial glimpse. And children love to look at pictures of themselves and of their family. I looked at our family photo albums hundreds of times growing up, and I loved seeing the scrapbooks that my mother kept during her teen years.
My sisters and I would would scootch together on the couch so we could all see at the same time and exclaim over how long our mom's hair was in 1973, or how she was always at the bottom of the cheerleading pyramid. We pored over her yearbooks, and counted the number of pictures she was in.
My kids don't have that. They don't have the tangible reminders of Christmas at age four, or of their sixth birthday, which they insisted have a spaghetti theme, because spaghetti is the best food ever.
Why? Part of it is the changed nature of photography, yes. We no longer have to pay to develop an entire roll of film, and can select the most perfect digital images before forking over the cash. Part of it is me, my own perfectionism. Why should I pay to print a so-so snapshot, when I know I can take better pictures?
Because they are my children's memories, that's why. This picture is of the six year old who just ate the pumpkin cupcakes she requested at her spaghetti party, and was thrilled to find a new bike as her gift. She zoomed up and down the alley behind our house on that July evening.
But she's never seen this picture, because it's just a snapshot, nothing special. It's got motion blur. It's got the neighbor's recycling bin. Not worth paying money to print.
Except. Except someday she will want to remember zooming up and down the alley, she'll wish she had a picture of herself on her white bike at age six. Someday when I'm gone, my children will want pictures of me, even silly ones where I'm holding a skein of yarn and making a dumb face. They'll want to see what I did for a living, and want to know why I'm wearing a lanyard and am surrounded by piles of yarn.
The six year old will want a far away picture of her ballet recital.
They'll want to know what Easter was like in Northern Minnesota (Brown, apparently. But with colorful eggs).
So I'm going to have these snapshots printed and put them into albums so my children can sit close to each other and remember. Even if the pictures are mediocre, the memories aren't.
I'm not going to spend time editing all the pictures, I'm not going to Photoshop out the stray hairs and color correct and sharpen and crop them. There are too many images, and I would soon spiral down into the place I just emerged from -- that place of perfectionism that keeps me from doing something if I can't do it really, really well.
I will choose which pictures to print -- quickly. If there are multiples of the same shot, I'll pick one. If it's a well and truly useless closeup of a dog's tongue, I'm not going to pay to have it printed and shipped. But starting now, I'm going to stop holding my children's memories hostage on my hard drive and put them on paper, where they can be enjoyed.
And this goes for everyone, regardless of whether you have no children or nineteen children: someday people are going to wish they had more pictures of you. Let someone take a picture of you once in a while. When you're gone, no one is going to care about your dirty hair or your double chin, they'll just see you at a holiday table, and wish they could be with you again.
So there's my epiphany. Worth what you paid for it.
And now on to what you're really here for: the next sneak peek of our new colorway collection. The studio is filling up with boxes, ready to ship to retailers at the appointed time. The drying lines are heavy laden, as are the packing areas, as we twist, label, and sort thousands of skeins of these beauties.
Sneak peek #4 is of Cottage Garden. It can speak for itself.
Fall Premiere Weekend is coming in September -- only a few more weeks until you'll be able to see all 34 new colorways.
Oh, and Baby Shamrock says hello. She is growing every day and is just generally beautiful and highly intelligent, even at five weeks old.
Reader Comments (20)
I love that idea! Strangely enough, I just spent an hour today pouring over old family albums with my grandma and mom. And *none* of the pictures were perfect - in fact, most of them were goofy, blurry, or obviously taken with a disposable camera in 1969. But we loved looking through them, and loved every silly picture. You've just convinced me: tomorrow, I'm going to choose 50 photos I want to print off my computer, just because they're my memories. Thanks for the inspiration, Sharon!!!
P.S. - That picture of your daughter on the bike? Adorable. Print that one out ASAP - it's perfect!
P.P.S. - That picture of your yarn? Adorable. Send that one out to my house ASAP - it's perfect! ;)
"they'll just see you at a holiday table, and wish they could be with you again."
Sniff. So true. Thanks for that thought. And a good chuckle about the nature of epiphanies!
It's so true. My 2 year old daughter can even find Facebook on my phone because it has photos of her and her favourite cousins on there.
Have you thought about photo books instead? I find Groupon often have good deals for them. You've inspired me to do one for each year of her life.
My Sister does blip photo where she posts a photo a day of her kids. It's a great record that we can all look at.
I think this is a wonderful idea. I have a friend who grew up in a large family, and she has *one* childhood picture of herself. Your children may not know it now, but when they're older they'll want to know more about themselves, and the folks from which they sprang. I think that sounds like a book title. The Folks From Which I Sprang. Or would it be The Folks From Whom I Sprang?
Your post really spoke to me today. I have a BFA in fine art photography and have shown my work in galleries. I have even worked as a portrait and wedding photographer. Four years ago I put all of that on hold to raise my family, and now I have two beautiful babies, and a computer full of their photographs of them. I have many albums of mine and my husband's childhood, but I really need to make physical albums for my children. I need to let go of the perfectionist, and print pictures for the memories, not the quality. Thanks for the reminder.
"Even if the pictures are mediocre, the memories aren't." So, so true. And a far from humble epiphany.
Many thanks for the reminder, from a fellow perfectionist.
Thank you Yarnista--I NEEDED this today! I have not printed a picture since my now three year old's 1st birthday. Criminal. Cottage Garden is absolutely inspiring...goodness...might I have something to look forward to this winter? Dusting off the 5 years dormant knitting needles?? With such beauty before her, who could resist???
Have you found a new office space? I'm wondering if you have considered Lakewalk or Lakewalk North on London Road. Certainly the view is pristine, and I know the buildings are quiet, efficient, and well maintained.
Your mom's photo archives are a source of enjoyment for many :)
A whole lot of truth in that post dear!
As someone who scrapbooks and was very active on a scrapbook forum for several years I've heard this said over and over and over!
And if you are the person who is always behind the camera (ahem) then pass it off to someone else once in a while!! :)
Beautiful yarn!!! Can't wait to see more!!
And lots of hugs to the most brilliant and beautiful Baby Shamrock!!
Have you checked out blurb.com? You can make photo albums with all those digital photos and have them printed in as many copies as you want! I make one every year, filling it in as the year drifts by.
Can't wait, can't wait
What a touching epiphany. Made my eyes kinda leaky.
As for the yarn - excited! Give us a couple weeks lead time if possible. I have a long drive to get to a participating shop and I've got a carpool to gather up!
Don't forget to label the pictures - you know that's Aunt Suzie the day she graduated from college, but they probably won't.
You're right, and I don't want to take away from your epiphany by only commenting on the yarn but HOLY COW that yarn is stunning.
So did you decide if you are making old-fashioned photo albums, or doing the photo books? I remember you used to make the photo books for gifts.
I have been struggling with what to do with the computer-based pics as well. I haven't put pictures in an album since our trip to Yellowstone in 2009!
I am going to do printed pictures. They seem easier to me, for right now. Photo books are awesome, but because they're more expensive, I personally feel like I must have everything arranged chronologically and edited.
Yarnista, I can support your idea. Here's why:
I grew up with those photo albums, even if we weren't allowed to touch them since children notoriously have dirty fingers. We would sneak anyway. By the age of 17, I was moved out and have no more access to any of the photos of my childhood outside of any that my grandmother may have squirrelled away for safety. I don't have any of my parents, or their parents, or their parents parents, including the same acception. Those things hold weight and value far beyond the skill it took to take them. My mother's finger was always in the picture. Always. Knowing that she couldn't run the darn thing to save her life (despite her father being a camera repair man) is an important trait to know.
So that smudge of dirt? It tells a story of rolling down hills after a rain. That goofy face while holding yarn? Shows a momma who not only has an artistic skill, but a sense of humor and charm to back it up. Who cares if you look perfect if you also look like you have the personality and skill of a stump? We love each other because of the things that make each other special, because of the moments that bring you together.
Thank you so much for reminding us all that the little things need attention too. Even though I've known this for years, I still need to be reminded to slow down and just enjoy. Today, I just might have to try that out.
wow... what a cute child... nice pictures
I'm just catching up on your blog but find it funny that I too had this recent epiphany. I have started the LONG and ARDUOUS process of uploading, organizing, PRINTING photos of my life. It's going to be a long haul, but one that's so worth it!!
where's the other sneak peek? nice pictures and you have a cute child... :)
she's a princess.. how old is she?