Mixed Grill Mats

The good folks at Lark Books were interested in having a little crocheted meat in their next book. So, they inquired within as I am the self-avowed Queen of Crocheted Flesh. I don't know why, but that title makes me exceedingly happy. I know. Twisted.

Anyhow, editors extraordinaires did favor a change of location for my examples of crocheted meaty fabulousness thinking grills might look better on the table than about the shoulders. I know. I can't believe it either! Mon Dieu!

So in light of this fact, I redesigned the 'ques to be larger and more plate-friendly. Here's a Mat O' Steak...



Kabobs...



Franks...



Cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger...



And assorted appliques for waiting for their close-up!





Check out the backside of this steak. I had a fair isle thing going on here...



Get your hooks ready because this meaty pattern will soon be available in a bookstore near you!
Oh, and knitters? Grilled meaty goodness coming your way soon!

Copyright 2006 Regina Rioux Gonzalez. All rights reserved.

Give Me Your One Word...

Memes usually don't appeal to me, but I figured I'd give this one a try after seeing it on Deneen's blog.

Please leave a one-word comment that you think best describes me--it can only be one word long. Then copy and paste this into your blog so that I may leave a comment about you.

This is not so much about fishing for compliments as it is an exercise showing how hard it is to use just one word to describe someone!

Give it a try & I'll do the same for you if you're so inclined.

(From the enthusiastic Bron's Blog)

A Plea For Wool

Dear Local Yarn Store Proprietor:

It is with great frustration that I compose this letter to you regarding your current ordering policies. After having visited your store several times over the last few months I began to notice a startling shortage in the amount of wool usually found in your inventory. At first I thought your sparse inventory due to my visit falling in between orders. No problem, I’ll just come back the following week and revel in your replenished stock, or so I thought. Having returned and encountered the same shocking lack of wool, I inquired within, to which you replied, “It’s summer.”

Huh?

Forgive me, dear Proprietor, but when did the changing of the seasons ever determine which fiber content to order in a region of the country where seasonal changes are considered to be a bit of joke compared to the rest of the nation? To use the words of a good friend and another faithful fiber consumer, our lovely corner of the country experiences three seasons: cooler, warmer and slightly wet. Therefore, according to your current (and seemingly new) ordering policies, there is no need to order wool at all because our temperatures rarely dip low enough to wear it. Taking this argument a step further, your cotton inventory should be at maximum capacity year round and not just for the months constituting the “warmer” season. Although, unless you would like to brand yourself as Sunny SoCal’s Cotton Super Store, I’d stay away from the type of ordering methodology stated above.

Dearest Proprietor, what happened to the days where any fiber could be found in all of its myriad colors and iterations no matter the season? Maybe you have forgotten the fact that many of us crochet and knit our holiday gifts during the summer months? Why is it that restriction of stock has become the norm as opposed the anomaly? Often, I find myself standing with four or five balls of something in your store while asking if there is more in the back, to which you usually reply, “No.”

“Do you plan to order more?”

“Maybe.”

HUH?

I just don’t get it. Knitting and now crocheting have become lifestyles from the legacy hook and needle wielders sporting blue rinsed coifs to the young, hip tweens, teens and 20-somethings running about town with their skull emblazoned bags of stash. Yarn has never been more varied, more sought after, nor more coveted. I’d think that this would be the ideal time to pack your shelves so full of fiber, you don’t have room for you behind that cash register!

Am I missing something???

No matter. I am willing to beg.

Please, oh please, Mr. or Mrs. Yarn Store Proprietor, bring back your wool, your cotton, your huddled masses of funkadelic novelty yarns no matter the weather’s whim. Treat me to mountains of mohair, autumnal alpaca and a cacophony of cool cotton blends. Give me vast amounts of variegates, hotbeds of homespun, hand-dyed creations aplenty! I need wool stocked to ceiling, standing ankle deep in angora to contain the fervor within me.

Your Proprietorship, I only ask you for choice and in turn I will pay, for my wallet is full of money. If you see fit to appease me I will surely be thankful, for Hell hath no fury like a yarn ho in drought.

Thank you for your consideration of this matter.

Yours in yarndom,
LadyLinoleum

Intarsia Geek

Intarsia how I love thee! Love the chart creation and deciphering. Love the changing colors creating magic stitch by stitch, row by row. Hell, I'm so fond of this technique I don't even mind the coffee clutch of bobbins hanging off the back my work even though they are prone to get um, err, affectionate with one another. The process is just too rewarding for me to let a few horny bobbins stop me from using it!

I'm aware that although many of you share my love for this technique, some of you are a bit put off by the above. Bobbin p0rn is disturbing. I'll give you that. However, if you can see fit to get beyond the inherent intarsia issues you will be rewarded with a wonderful garment, object, piece of fiber wonder that really will make you look like the most skilled needleworker on this here planet!

Unfortunately, I've been unable to tackle as much intarsia as I'd like as of late due to the fact that I like to create my own charts. Historically this process has been one wrought with LadyLinoleum's blood, sweat and tears. In other words, lots of manual labor. Me, a pile o' graph paper, pencil and eraser gettin' busy. Literally, I would spend hours coloring in thousands of little boxes, foaming at the mouth, wondering when or if I'd ever finish.

Not any more!

I've gone from this...


Copyright 2006 Regina Rioux Gonzalez. All rights reserved.

...to this!


Copyright 2006 Regina Rioux Gonzalez. All rights reserved.

Awesome, eh? And purty too!

How did your Lady of the Linoleum go from her Lascaux-inspired graphs to the technological wonder you see above? One program.

PCStitch

This program is my new favorite toy. It's incredibly easy to use and it's cheap! If you're a chart fanatic like me, you need to get this program...Now!

Don't have a spare $39.99 laying about? All is not lost. Ever heard of Pixel Blocks? It's an awesome new-fangled building toy that is based upon, you guessed it, the pixel. Well, the folks at Pixel Blocks want their customers to be able to build whatever they'd like out of as much as their product they can purchase. Enter their free online answer to imaginative building with pixel purchase power AND your free answer to PCStitch...Digital Stained Glass. This online gem allows you to upload an image of your choice, click through the wizard and presto! Your very own intarsia chart in pdf form! Just wait until you see the pork product I charted using this program...

Day of the Dad

Passing by a display of Father’s Day cards at the grocery store the other day, I was reminded that we edge ever closer to our annual celebration of Dad. Since the death of my father nine years ago last April, Father’s Day passes each year unmarked on my calendar. This is not to say that I do not pay homage to my father’s memory with every daily traversing of the sun. Not a day passes by that I do not think upon the man that was my dad.

My father was a truly remarkable man and this is not just an admiring daughter’s opinion. Everyone who met my father immediately applied for membership to his fan club. Devoted husband, parent and friend, admirable and annoying in his religiosity, a contagious and gregarious personality that attracted many to his milieu, my father was also intensely creative, an accomplished writer and photographer, hometown politician, comedian, marathon athlete, educator, mentor, visionary. He was steadfast in his belief that humanity can and should strive to make our world a better place though action, education, charity, compassion and love. I can safely say that he was the only individual I’ve ever encountered that actually practiced what he preached and that my friends, is nothing short of amazing.

Richard Henry Rioux never took life for granted. He lived each and every moment with gusto. I can still hear his laugh as distinctly as if it were just minutes ago. A smile creeping its way across my lips as I visualize my dad struggling with his computer, muttering G-rated obscenities, because the “rabbit” (his term for mouse) was not obeying his wishes. I remember vividly, the endless piles of lists, steno pads filled with his chicken scratch verbiage, huge cabinets filled with photographs and slides (the guy documented everything) cluttering up every surface and recess of his home command center. I can still feel the gentle hum of the engine in his red Ford Explorer as we drove the desert highway to St. Andrew’s Abbey in Valyermo in order to meet with his cadre of monk consultants on his next big project…a special effects driven blockbuster based upon an epic battle between Jesus and Lucifer...Um, yeah. Dad always tried to include me in his schemes, no matter how harebrained and no matter my level of reluctance. He used to tell me that I was the offspring who was most like him and by virtue of that fact my participation was obligatory. Whether I acted as project consultant, secretary, graphic designer or computer tutor, like it or not, I was a de facto member of Team Richard.

The founding member of Team Richard was also the greatest cheerleader for TeamLinoleum. The story goes that at the ripe old age of two, a pencil was put into my hand and sheet of paper put before me in the hopes that I would create. And create I did. And create I still do. Art supplies were a predominant feature at Chez Rioux and a trip in the dadmobile to the library in an effort to acquire more craft books could always be had on a lazy Saturday afternoon for the term “I’m bored” was as unwelcome as it was rare. From painting to jewelry design, there was always a class to attend and a dad to chauffer me to and fro. When I hit college age, my father gleefully drove me around to local area universities so that I could investigate each art program before deciding which one would best suit my impending college career. Basically, my dad was a Crayola pusher and I am who I am because of that fact.

If you’ve got issues with crocheted meat on a crocheted grill, Richard’s the guy you should blame. I was never, ever told that I could not or should not attempt anything creative or otherwise. I simply went about my life painting, sculpting, sewing, knitting, crocheting, making, experimenting, experiencing, border-free! I don’t know that my dad ever really understood what I was making, but he supported my deep-seated need to explore and create nonetheless.

Dad, if you’ve got internet access in Heaven and you may in fact be reading this, I’d like you to know that I miss your daily presence in my life. I miss your laughter and your endless phone calls urging me to take my vitamins despite the fact that I am an adult and perfectly capable of handling my daily supplements. I miss your plethora of crazy lists detailing all of your ginormous projects. I miss your cowboy hats and your complete inability to get your computer “rabbit” to perform. I miss your undeniably simplistic, yet full of big ideas local newspaper columns that you faithfully photocopied for me every week in the hopes that I would read them upon receipt (which I always did but never let you know that). I miss the far from gourmet dinners you would concoct in which every dish tasted exactly the same whether meat, fish or fowl. Now that’s talent…Most of all I miss hearing you ask me again and again, “So, what do you think of me?” Dad, I think a lot of you, of this you can be sure.

~ In loving memory of Richard Henry Rioux (1943 – 1997)

Ablockin'

At this point you are all probably aware that after making my Monday through Friday, nine to five pilgrimage to the cube farm I dedicate a significant part of the remainder of my waking hours to crocheting, knitting and general creative exploits. Sure I also clean, bust open boxes of um, cuisine, for nuclear smelting and do the wife and mom thing. However, I will tell you that this once voracious reader has little time for that endeavor at the moment. And well, hanging out with the homies is taking a back seat to other activities such as oh, um, blocking...

It's my muse. She's a yarn pusher and taskmaster. Always tapping my veins to see if they are imbued with yarn striations. Always cracking the I-cord whip and bewailing me to pull the yarn through the loop at accelerated speeds, "Put some muscle into it, Linoleum!"

I'm telling you, the boss lady means business and she wants to see the gears of my fibrous production pumping. You see, I am merely slave to craft...

Ah yeah, so this girl's got a lot of stuff to block.



Above is the lace weight red orange pixie-inspired shawl I just finished ( I know it looks positively hideous on those towels!). I modified this pattern and now that I've accomplished said endeavor I consider myself ready to tackle a pair of bat wings.

Also, I'm ready to block my knitted grill...



Yes, I am knitting meat as well.



Let it be said that no animals were harmed in the meat knitting or crocheting process...I've been remiss in my duty to set the vegetarian yarn brandishers at ease some time ago. Really, I don't mean to freak you guys out, just give you a chuckle now and again. I think knitted bologna is funny. Yeah, I'm a bit twisted. Like that's news...

Knitted Wings!

Check out these babies...



Are they not delicate?



Delectably dainty?





Deniably dystopic?

Delightfully detached from all things dreadful?

Dramatic?

Dreamy?

An in-dee-spensible part of daily wardrobe?

Yeah, I kinda like 'em...

Based upon my crocheted wings, this diaphanous knitted duo was created with lace weight mohair and size 4 needles. They're nothing, if not dazzling...

Yes, I am totally obsessed with the yarn wing thing and be that as it may, I decided to kick my yarn-y winged pursuit up a notch (channeling Emeril) and make another pair. Only this time with a larger gauge and slightly more fuzzy. And purple-y. With gold flecks. Oh, and maribou encrusted ribbon for the ties! Take a looksee at the result...





No, I was not listening to Purple Rain on repeat.







I was, however, thinking about a nice fashion accessory to wear to this little outing. Now all I need are some shoulder pads and I'll be the belle of the, um, karaoke-infused ball...I know, I'm a dork!

Copyright 2006 Regina Rioux Gonzalez. All rights reserved.

Psychotic Tomato Gallery

It's finally finished!

View the Tomatoes that started it all.

Then take a look at the Tomatoes that were created from far and wide!

Inspired? Why don't you make your own Psychotic Tomato and send a picture of said creature to me for display in the gallery???

You know you wanna...

Thanks to everyone for the lovely birthday wishes!

Blow by Blow Birthday Post

Shocked by the thought of year 37...

Yes folks it's true. As of the 18th of this month I firmly planted my foot on the path that leads me one year closer to death. I know that's morose, but what can I say? I'm an old bat to the depths of my yarn encrusted soul. Don't think that stops me from whoopin' it up for the annual celebration of my birth. This ole bat enjoys carousing with friends, big heaps o' pressies and your general eating, drinking and making merry. I'm a Taurus after all and that aspect of my nature tends to outweigh any nay-saying put forth from my inner geriatric bat.

True to my astrological nature, I began celebrating my birthday the weekend preceeding the actual date with the purchase of these very cool items at an amazing shop near to my mother's home. I'm not ashamed to say that I buy gifties for myself. After all, I'm me and I know what me likes. And me very much desired these awesome antique dressforms:

It's a boy!



And a girl!



I think that me is very adept at choosing gifts for, eh, me. I am sounding a bit like Cookie Monster at the moment. Moving right along.

Myriad celebrations ensued following my weekend shopping spree. Last Thursday, I was treated to a birthday luncheon away from the cube farm acreage at Clementine by the lovely and talented Idea du Jour proprietor (and sometimes spokesmodel for this here bloggy), Briana! We had wholesome, ruddy bowls of roasted tomato soup and egg salad sandwiches. Yum! Thanks Bri!

Saturday night I celebrated in style at one of my family's fave restaurants with the marital unit, the parental unit and my subsidiary. We cooked raw meat and veggies atop a grill located in the center of our table. My offspring loves this process and because of this now widely known fact, my family frequents this restaurant at her behest more often than not.

Non-crocheted/knitted meat...



My gorgeous daughter...



Finally, Sunday was spent birthday lunching on Japanese style risotto and curry with L.A. Elle at The Blue Marlin just walking distance from my domicile in an area of the city I affectionately refer to as Little, Little Tokyo. This stretch of pavement is flanked by myriad noodle houses and boba establishments as well as some very cool shops that sell a range of items from hipster threads to Japanese language books and dvds (yes peeps, lots of Japanese craft books to be had). Catering to many of the Japanese exchange students at UCLA, this is a little slice of Tokyo right here on the Westside and we love it! Some of the highlights of the birthday stroll included clothing stores such as Anap and Black Market (which doubles as an art gallery oh btw), everything but the kitchen sink stores such as Giant Robot and its sequel, GR2 (also shows art), and of course every Japanese craft book aficionado would enjoy a perusal through Asahiya Bookstore. If you're in Los Angeles and you've yet to discover this part of town, come on over! You will not be disappointed.

Now let's do some pressie recap!

Ellen gave me gobs of crochet-related paraphenalia...



Natasha sent me a big ole box of yarn luv...



Jannikinz also sent me some yarn luv from Down Under (not for my birthday, but just because)...



Also received a very generous and welcome spa gift certificate and bath goodies from the marital unit and a lovely little beaded bracelet from my incredibly talented and bee-you-ti-ful offspring!

Am I lucky or what???

Thank you all for your lovely gifts, e-cards galore and well wishes! I am deeply touched and I feel so incredibly blessed to have you all in my life.

'Tis the Season

A new season of SAG screenings is upon us. Now, I realize that to many of you this factoid means little. And I must admit, if I were not married to this man I would be aboard your vessel. However, I am, in fact, married to the guy and he is a card-carrying member of SAG. Add to this mixture that notion that he's really into the free screening thang and you get a picture of my current predicament...companion to husband for said screenings. Try as I might to painlessly extricate myself from these actor-crammed engagements, I am oftentimes unsuccessful at this endeavor for whatever reason. Okay, so my reasons usually involve very important meetings with the Tidy Bowl Man and a very prickly brush. A girl’s got responsibilities you know! Sheesh.

Anyhow, those of you familiar with this here bloggity blog blog may recall posts of SAG screenings past and my reluctant immersion by association into “The Business”. The rest of you newer-bies should heretofore consider yourself officially initiated as you accompany me on my travels through a thespian-populated world that makes a 2” puddle on the street seem deeper than the darkest depths of the Atlantic Ocean for we are now entering the world of stage and screen where a good coif is paramount , curbing caloric intake is scientific method and carrying big ole boxes of headshots in your car is a form of religion. I digress.

Last eve, excuses were no match for the persistant calls of the free film titans. Nosirree! I thought I had made a successful escape when my daughter entered the living room and declared her father MIA thereby prohibiting her return to his domain for the evening. This statement also meant that there would be no need for me to drive her over there, thus making my alibi null and void. At her utterance the hubster then looks to me and says, “So, you both will be able to come with me to the screening tonight…”

To which I absent-mindedly replied, “Uh, yeah, I guess,” immediately feeling the depth and breadth of my faux pas.

I was ensnared in the trap with no hope of escape, so I put on a few of my worst duds that included an old AC/DC tee, hair coiffed in spastic Princess Leia-inspired buns sans make-up, grabbed my daughter and knitting bag and hopped in the car next to the happy hubs. We drove a couple of blocks to our destination…Sure, technically, the screening was close enough to our domicile that we could have easily walked, but this is Los Angeles people! Angelenos are to driving as birds are to flight. We love our cars and spend our entire lives driving around in our metal pods, distance be damned.

Upon arrival at screening central we were met with an ever-growing line made up of a gazillion troupers. This type of situation is generally where my low profile, grunge-inspired garb serves me well. I am anonymous in a crowd of crowd-pleasers…That is, until my loving mate opens his jaws, spilling forth verbiage, joining in the surrounding cacophony while simultaneously introducing me, wife of actor, dressed to less-than-the-nines, sporting spastic Princess Leia-style buns, wishing she were anywhere but there. I had no choice. At that point I could just smile politely, giggle in all the appropriate places and hope to hell the theater doors would open shortly allowing me to escape the din ringing in the latest auditions, how to achieve darker, bronze-r tans, sharing preferred methods of honing one’s craft and yes, my favorite, how fake everyone seems to be is in this town…Tidy Bowl Man, where are you when I need you???

Finally, this bun-donning Lady of the Linoleum was allowed refuge in the darkened theater and just in case, I strategically seated offspring between moi and spouse to deter more participation in actor-logue. Oh save yer snide remarks. I know, shameless…Whatever.

So, what were we there to see inquiring minds want to know?

The 23rd hour of 24 peeps!

Yes, that would be the first part of tonight’s season finale. Here’s what I have to say to all of you fellow 24-ites…Neener, neener, nee-ner!

So, uh yeah, just in case you’re wondering, it’s a cliffhanger…

Hey, at least there was some pay-off for my having to endure a thousand thespians.

Also, since this was an Emmy thang, Jack Bauer, President Logan and the First Lady were all in attendance for a Q&A following the sneak preview. Oh yes, what could be better than impromptu actor-logue preceeding a screening? Scheduled actor-logue succeeding a screening…you know, the kind with an open mic, myriad actors chomping at the bit to perform, err, I mean ask questions of other actors for a crowd of, yes, actors sitting before them?

Come to think of it, I believe there’s an entire cable show based upon this premise…

Miss Kendra's Cabaret Chapeau

Miss Kendra's Cabaret Chapeau arose out of this conversation at the WeHo Stitch N' Bitch two meetings ago...

Miss Kendra: Faith, I want to make a hat for my trip to Vegas. How do I go about doing this?

LadyLinoleum: (I pipe up) What kind of hat?

Faith enters the meeting area at the Old Farmers Market and is plunking down her supplies for the evening onto our table. Faith is not only our SNB leader, but she is an accomplished milliner.

Miss Kendra: (motioning with her hands atop her head like she's holding said chapeau at a slight angle) You know, one of those little black cabaret hats with a netted veil.

LadyLinoleum: Oh, like a cigarette girl?

Miss Kendra: Yeah.

LadyLinoleum: (toward Faith) She needs buckram right?

Faith: Yes and you (turning to Miss Kendra) can get it in Downtown (LA).

Miss Kendra: What's buckram?

LadyLinoleum: (laughing) I'll make you the hat.

Miss Kendra: How?

LadyLinoleum: I'll crochet it of course and it won't look crocheted.

Miss Kendra: Is that a bad thing?

LadyLinoleum: No. I mean, you'll notice the hat, not the medium it was made from.

Miss Kendra: Will it stand up if it's crocheted?

LadyLinoleum and Faith: Absolutely.

Miss Kendra: Okay, you have until next Thursday.

Before leaving SNB I requested pictures from Miss Kendra of said dream hat. She sent these to my electronic post box the following day:





That weekend I sat down with size F hook and some shiny, sturdy and black Red Heart Super Saver to accomplish the task set before me. (Size F and worsted weight fiber makes a very strong structure, imho.)

Here's my version of the little black hat:



It's difficult to decipher in the picture, but I put a little wire in the brim for shaping as well as black velvet ribbon to finish it off. I will also state for the record that it took me longer to put the damn netting on this little diddy than it took me to crochet the entire thing!

Miss Kendra looking lovely in her new hat:



Now, the little missy above was adamant about the hat being black and shunned the thought of flowers or other adornment. So, since this one turned out so well I will be making more of them. And they will have color and maybe even a feather or two. Stay tuned.

Have fun in Vegas Missy!

Copyright 2006 Regina Rioux Gonzalez. All rights reserved.

My Bologna

My bologna has a first name. It's L-A-D-ee-Y.

My bologna has a second name. It's L-I-N-O-L-E-U-M. (Okay, there are more letters in Linoleum than Mayer. Work with me people!)

Oh, I love to wear it everyday and if you ask me why I'll saaaaay,

LadyLinoleum has a way with B-O-L-O-G-N-A.

Drumroll please...

Enter the Olive Loaf Shawl...In all of it's knitted AND crocheted glory!



I know what yer thinkin': She's lost it completely. First intarsia meat on a crocheted grill, then weenie links about the neck, now this! What's left?

Oh now, don't you worry your pretty little heads 'bout that because there is oh so much more lurking 'round the dark recesses of my gray matter. Muhahahaha!

Spam pants all around! Okay, maybe not...

Though, I must state for the record that I rather enjoy entering my LYS and asking the proprietors for bologna colored yarn. Their reaction? Priceless.

Anyhow, after sufficiently torturing the poor people behind the counter at my LYS with such a question, I made the decision to knit this shawl as opposed to crocheting it because I find that knitted fabric drapes better. Second, I needed to decide whether to add the olive slices into the piece using intarsia or to add them on later as appliques. After a bit of back and forth I chose to applique the olive elements for two reasons: (i) I did not want to see the wrong side of the intarsia on the shawl and (ii) I wanted the olive slices to have a three-dimensional quality. So in the end, I chose to crochet (more dimensionality than knitting and no dpns needed) the olives and sew them on later.



To finish off this wearable half slice of yarn-based bologna luuv, I crocheted a skin along the outer edge.



Ta-Da! Bologna Couture. Yes. It. Is.

Knit AND Crochet Stats
Yarn: Cascade 220
Needles: Size 9, 40" circ.
Hook: Size F
Pattern: Me, Myself & I

Another meaty yet fashionable accessory for Project Wrongway!

Copyright 2006 Regina Rioux Gonzalez. All rights reserved.

Crochet Wings Pattern Now Available!

Don't you think Mom would love her very own pair of wings for Mother's Day?

Okay, maybe not. Should you want to create a pair nonetheless, you can purchase the pattern here. My hubby likes 'em and is modeling them here.

Stay tuned knitters. Your version will be available soon!

Happy Mother's Day!

Copyright 2006 Regina Rioux Gonzalez. All rights reserved.

Trolling for Yarn

Before hearing back from the publisher about whether my design(s) would be accepted or shunned for their new crochet tome, I contacted Rio de la Plata Yarns (creators of the “heated coals” wool that I used for the Mixed Grill Wrap) to see if they would perhaps like to sponsor little ole me should I, in fact, be selected as one of the designers for said text. I know, jumping the gun. Whatever. Call me an opportunist, but the thought of acquiring free yarn is like winning the lottery. Okay, not really, but you get the picture. Anyway, aside from the occasional fluffy yarn-y goodness type of ROAK that I receive from various blogging buds, I am usually pulling out the wallet to get my fiber-crack fix. Now, this little factoid doesn’t prevent me from enhancing my stash in any way. Oh no! I spend lots of dinero on yarn. LadyLinoleum is always fiber-filled. I digress.

At any rate, a potential publishing deal is definitely opportunity loudly wrapping at my door. So, I emailed the guys at Rio de la Plata, inquiring as to their interest in sponsorship, and was met with a, “Sure, c’mon down and pick up what you need!” Fortunately for me, the offices of Rio de la Plata are on the Westside, my digs. Easy to get to during one’s cube farm lunch hour.

Let me backup a bit here. Some of you may not know this about me, but I have perfected the art of yarn shopping on my lunch hour. Oh yes, I can get to and from any number of yarn establishments in West Los Angeles, Santa Monica or Culver City from my office in Century City in just under an hour, making my lunch hours calorie free yet full of fiber! Now those expeditions require me to shell out lots and lots of clams for said wooly wares, which by the way doesn’t stop me from taking this type-o-lunch several (and I mean numerous) times per month. Hey, my job sucks. Yarn shopping during my lunch hour is like a huge dose of fluffy furry vicodin for my poor, unfortunate, overworked soul. I’m just saying.

Anyhoo, this lunch hour yarn-run was altogether different. This time I was going to pick up freebies and I was about to find out the location of a font of yarn goodness. Peeps, it just doesn’t get much better than this. Or does it? Read on…

So, I went downstairs to pick up the other known fiber-crack addict in the office, my creative cohort Briana, to accompany me on said yarn jaunt. We drove pedal-to-the-metal to a rather strange looking late 90’s po-mo, cinder block/multicolored concrete, industrial knock-off style commercial/residential complex on the Western edges of the City of Santa Monica where upon entry we were ushered through a maze of hallways, flights of stairs, exposed air ducts, myriad glass block and buffed concrete floors by a wide-eyed, fifty-something, gregarious, very honey-blonded, slightly Stepfordesque receptionist to the sliding front door that marked the entrance to the offices of my new yarn pimp. The purple offices of my new yarn pimp. With gold sofas. And glass top tables. No, I am not kidding. Briana was speechless. I, on the other hand, am quite comfortable in most environments even the purple, gold, glass variety and have been known to entertain myself in conversation with walls, even if they are a lovely shade of electric plum. And anyway, I was a woman on a mission. A free yarn mission to be exact. I would not be deterred, grape-ade walls or no.

Enter the yarn dudes. Two very cordial men of the strand, so to speak. Actually, only Mauricio (fearless leader of the Rio de la Plata empire I believe) spoke to us at length. The other yarn dude just stuck his hand up in the air in greeting then continued to tap away at his keyboard pretending that we didn’t pierce a hole in his purple-y mist. Okay by me.

After a couple of minutes of conversation with Mauricio he informed me that they are looking for a local designer to help them promote their threads. Only, get this, they want someone who has an unusual sensibility. Briana assured the nice yarn boys that I, in fact, am a designer with a very unusual sensibility. So, I gave them my website addy, Mauricio bagged up my wondrous wool and we said we’d keep in touch.

I haven’t heard from him.

Mr. Mauricio may be beyond horrified that I turned his luxurious fluffdom into hot coals. Hey, he said he was looking for unusual! Do you think he may have been shocked by weenie links and intarsia meat on a grill???

Wings!

Unfortunately for my husband, he was the only one present this afternoon to model my new wings (if being my spokesmodel doesn't force him out into the job market, I don't know what will)...blue bottle fly wings in cape form to be specific. Aren't they neato???



Just look at that wool! It's a lovely colorway scored from this seller on Ebay. Their variegated yarns are really spectacular. Take a look at these and these.



Also notice the way I designed the wings themselves. I wanted each wing to look as if emanated from a central line or core. I was able to capture this look through increasing and decreasing at the center of the rows as opposed to the ends thereby making a chevron shape (similar to that in ripple or wave patterns). They look very leaf-like. Definitely organic. I evened out the initial chevron by introducing short rows. Pretty darn cool.



At the top of each wing I used some of the Koigu Deneen (Deneen love your new blog-look!) sent me to crochet a casing. Voila! Wings fit for any bipedal creature.

I will be making this pattern available to all eventually. Yes, I know. I always say that! Heck, if I could just make a living making this stuff, my pattern writing would move along much quicker. Currently I am converting this pattern to knitting as I hope to offer both versions, yes, eventually.

Crochet Stats

Yarn: Jojoland fingering wool in azure blue, rose wine (color no. 7-y46)
Hook: D
Pattern: Me, myself and I

Collaborative Luuvv

Like that title eh? Yes, I know it 'tis a bit sketchy, but nonetheless illustrative of my new creative collaborative venture since the adjournment of the always eventful and highly successful Evolution of the Doll confederacy. For those of you not familiar with this series of objets d'art made by some very talented chickadees (including your Lady of the Linoleum) take a looksee at the website and a my past posts/presentations of the girls, boys, eunuchs, weird winged caterpillar thingies...Did I mention that there was much imbibing during our monthly meetings? Um, yeah.

Hey Doll! Homepage

The Dolls:

Be Mine
Ballerinasaurus
Sadie
Homicide
PSI-A14
Deep Shockra
Helga On Wheels
Paperdoll
Siren
Djinn
The Babysitter
Guignol
Gregor

At any rate, the Hey Doll! experience was so successful that we decided to keep on truckin' and undertake another project. However, there was just a bit of housekeeping that needed to happen before the onset of work.

Firstly, we had a group make-over. No not the spa treatment kind, though that would've been nice after installing the last gallery show. Instead, for various reasons not the least of which included pregnancy, half of our group (six out of twelve) headed for the exit sign and no amount of bribery would deter them. So, we bade the drop-outs farewell and plodded onward with a new project in mind and a HUGE LACK OF SYNERGY due to such a small number of collaborators remaining. At that point our leaner, but not meaner group set fingers to the keyboard, made phone calls galore and schmoozed the heck out of our contacts in search of the "right" people. Despite a bit of participant trial and error we've now got a healthy group of twelve creative cohorts ready to get to work!

Secondly, some of the core members of the group (there are a few of us who lean toward control freakage) felt that we needed to review and possibly rehab the logistics of the upcoming process based upon the things that we learned while working on the dolls. Now, let me back up a bit here. Our little coven of creative chickadees makes work in round robin fashion. Meaning everyone works on every piece. It's all about trust, surrender, respect...blah, blah, blah. It's also a process which is rooted in surprise, discovery and quite simply, freedom. None of us had ever worked this way before. Personally, I found that working in a round robin forced me to open my mind and forget about any preconceptions I may have had about a particular piece because when a doll left my studio for someone else's I had no idea how dramatic or unexpected the changes would be. It's a pretty amazing experience, to say the least.

At any rate, round robin-ing rocked, but critique (a crucial aspect of the academics of making) just didn't happen. Therefore, the control freaks and the larger group made a pact. No matter how hammered we get at our monthly meetings, we still must have critical dialog about the work being made.

So, new group "look"(5 painters, 3 sculptors myself included, 1 mixed media artist, 1 glass artist, 1 filmmaker, 1 extraordinarily creative kid who happens to be my offspring)...check, new energy...check, new process...check, new project...check. What are we making, inquiring minds want to know? GAMES!

Yes, peeps, games. Board games, memory games, R-P-G's. Carnival games, video games (uh, maybe not), games of prophecy! Let's take a look at a few of our infant contributions shall we?

We got yer basic colorful grid who aspires to be a Risk type-o-game when it grows up.



Looks harmless enough right? Well, the benign-looking board below is actually a scavenger hunt fabrication that taunts it's players with nefarious confabulations of verbiage. And as if that wasn't enough, teams of players must then go forth, seek said confabulations and document them. Okey dokey. Did I tell you that we drink lots of wine at these meetings?



Direct from the lounge on some distant spacestation...



Ooooh, glass runes for divining events to come...



Along with a trusty Gom Jabbar!



And finally toys for tarts!

You've got to admit, these here game pieces do look a teensy weensy bit phallic...



Lucky for you peeps, we are at the beginning of this project. So much more to come. Who knows what will transpire over the succeeding months. However, of this you can be sure...there will be drinkin'. There will be laughin'. And apparently there will be games that are not child appropriate...

I need a new job...

I kissed the ground beneath my feet upon arrival at LAX yesterday peeps, having had up-to-the-eyeballs-enough of Lost Wages. There is only so much drinkin', carousin' and conference-in' this Lady of the Linoleum can handle. I mean c'mon, five full days spent with 200 plus bankers in 90 degree plus heat is like spending five full days with 200 plus bankers in 90 degree plus heat...No analogy needed...

I did do some serious crocheting though...despite the bazillion bankers...the endless hours...and the imbibing...I am literally detoxing as I write this. Yeah, I know, my job sounds real tough. Las Vegas, Vodka, expense account. Whatever. It's banking and therefore it's boring. Martinis (doesn't matter how many I forced down) don't change that fact.

So, I'm back. Feeling a bit disconnected from the Life Craftique, but ready to jump into the swing of things, scissors poised, hook at the ready, hanks of yarn calling me back to the fold. Speaking of which, while toiling away in the desert I received an email from an editor at a well known publishing house alerting me to the fact that my designs had been accepted for a new crochet book in the works. Wooo Hooo! Maybe, just maybe, I will eventually be able to extricate myself from the Life Banktique. Keep yer digits crossed!

In addition to my upstart career as a budding crochet designer (yeah right), I've got tons of FO's to show and much news regarding my new collaborative adventure that began after ending the doll round robin fandango. Can you all say board games? Oh yes, this should be an interesting collaboration to be sure. Look for a whole post devoted to a bunch of drunk artists attempting to make board games in round robin fashion that are actually playable (while sober).

Stay tuned! Games and knitted/crocheted bologna-inspired accessories to be had in the near future. I know, you don't often hear the words bologna, knit and crochet in the same phrase...