The Mystery of the Utility Pole "Sweaters"

I kind of love my city.

I think I spent years trying to stay away from it, terrified of coming home and somehow winding up stuck. But after years of trekking around the country and the globe, I have become more and more partial to my town with each passing year.  Sometimes it works that the more you travel, the less appealing your hometown feels.  It can start to feel small and suffocating.  Or the reverse can be true, which is what happened in my case.  The more I traveled and the more I saw the world, the more I came to appreciate what was right in front me.  Years ago I was so resistant to come home to this place, but now I'm usually eager to get back.  My city isn't a giant city like Atlanta, LA or New York, all of which I don't mind visiting, but I have zero interest in ever living in such places.  Too many people, too many cars, too much traffic, and just generally too much.   My town is a nice mid-sized city, with plenty to do, but not so big you feel overwhelmed by it all.  You can reach the opposite side of the city within 25-30 minutes with minimal effort, and not want to commit an act of road rage in the process (generally speaking).  

And I love my neighborhood.  It's quiet, but still conveniently located to everything I need - library, work, grocery store, church, family, etc.  It's just a bus ride away from the downtown area, but maybe only a 30 minute drive to the wide open spaces of the country.  

But like every city, it has its quirks and its touch of character.

Take for instance these utility poles.


You're probably thinking, Why the heck are there bands of yarn wrapped around these things?

Good question.

I wondered the same thing.

I walk by them every time I go to the gym.  I noticed earlier this summer there was a string of 3-4 utility poles slowly being wrapped up in these "sweaters" of sorts.  The adjacent chain link fence was also acquiring little knitted flowers and potholders.  With each passing week, there would be more and more accessories added to the poles and fence.

I found it so perplexing, and for the life of me, I could not figure out why anyone would ever crochet these things just to wrap them around a utility pole.

I inquired with co-workers and friends, Any ideas why someone is stitching all this yarn for the utility poles?  The theories abounded.  It's an alien yarn cartel one co-worker said.  I myself wondered if it was some sort of secret code?  Some sort of sign to neighboring crocheting gangs - Back off! This is our turf!  We'll knit you into a knot if you get close!  Was it a signal for some sort of top secret ops?  I mean, I really had no idea why someone would go to these lengths to create this stuff and then just wrap it around a random post.

So I decided to leave a note for this mythical knitter.

To the person who is knitting "sweaters" for the utility poles,

I walk by here often and noticed the growing collection of colorful items making their way around the poles and chain link fences.  Just out of curiosity  - why? 

Sincerely, 
Puzzled observer

I slipped my note into a Ziploc bag so it wouldn't get wet should it rain, tacked it to a utility pole a couple of weeks ago and awaited an answer.

No response.

Few more days.

No response.

And then!  

To my surprise, a note in return!  I nearly started jumping up and down right there on the sidewalk, abnormally and oddly giddy that this little exchange of letters between strangers was occurring.  

Puzzled observer,

Loved your question! There isn't just one answer to explain the motivation behind the yarn bombing.  That's what it's called - it's a real thing! So I'll run down the list:

• I'm for all for anything that causes a driver to lift their foot from the pedal - even if slightly - to take pause and slow down.  Especially here where the curbs are non-existent.  
• I always felt this stretch of sidewalk with the chain link fence could use a little fun.
• My grandmother grew up and was a 1920s flapper in this same neighborhood I now call home.  She taught me how to knit and crochet as a small girl. I like to think a little of her is in every stitch.  
• I like to knit and crochet, but I'm not skilled enough to make sweaters.  These are easier!  
• It keeps me out of the bars.  
• It makes me happy to think someone smiles because they like it or think it's silly.

Enjoy your walks!

Sincerely,

Knitting and crocheting 

Mystery solved!  I haven't decided if I'll write another note in return - not sure what I would say other than Thanks for adding a curious little mystery to my life!  

Who knew yarn-bombing was such a thing.  Makes my city that much more entertaining.  And we all need a little mystery in our lives now and then.      

What Was Given

Every once in awhile I'll do a piece of artwork when I think to myself, "I actually like this piece."  Normally I create something, over-analyze it, decide there are too many things wrong with it and then pawn it off on somebody.  I think my friend Alex has all of my discarded artwork that I decided I don't like. The latest piece is one that fits in the former category.  I really love it actually.  It's a quote from the movie version of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.  Prince Caspian says it at the very end of the movie and it struck a chord with me.  

I'm still recycling Jimmy Buffett's book, which is where all of the book pages on the background came from.  I mod podged the letters on.  Used twine to make the lines, weaving them together where they intersect.  And voila. My new favorite piece.   

New Favorite Hobby

I think my new favorite hobby may be embossing things.  I have had this painting in my head for months now (probably since last November) and when I tried to hand-write the quote on it, it just didn't look right.  I had never embossed anything before, but I knew in order to get the look right, I would need to figure out how to do it. So I bought some slow-drying ink and embossing powder, thinking I could get away with just using a blow dryer to apply the heat.  Nope.  Needed to find a legit heat gun.  So I've been on the hunt to find a cheap one.  Thank you, JoAnn Fabrics, for having an awesome sale today because I finally found one on sale.  Cost me a whopping $10.  Watched a few how-to videos on YouTube and we are good to go.

I came home and pulled the painting out.  I had already painted the background and the gold lines, it just needed the quote added. I hand-stamped the letters, dumped some embossing powder on it, shook off the excess and applied heat. Voilà.  Okay, so some of my letters and lines are crooked, but in this instance I don't care because I am so jazzed about the final product and the fact that I didn't do something crazy like burn a hole through the canvas on my first attempt.   

This stuff is magic.  And I might be obsessed.  

  

One of my very favorite quotes from The Lord of the Rings. Tolkien originally wrote it in
Return of the King, but when Peter Jackson made the movies, he put it in
The Two Towers.  But who cares.  I love the line either way.

The Dust of Everyday Life

Pablo Picasso said, “Art washes from the soul the dust of everyday life.”

I have needed some dust washed off my soul lately.

In the wake of Jonathan's death, I have found myself reflecting on thoughts too numerous to mention all in one place, but finding at the same time a sense of desperation to get them out of my head and onto paper or onto canvas.  Because in the days after his loss, I just kept coming back to the same phrase over and over again:

There is healing in the act of creation.

There is a solace that is found in making something that is all together separate from you, but still a part of you.  Maybe it's my way of remembering.  My way of honoring.  My way of healing.  Because I don't know what else to do.  I don't know what else to do other than write.  Journal entries.  Blog entries.  Cards to people, talking about Jonathan.  I don't know what else to do other than to paint, to put a brush in my hands and figure out a way to bring life to my own soul.  That's what I know to do.

I remember after I lost my grandfather several years ago, I dredged up a story I had written about him when I was an undergrad student.  It was originally a creative writing assignment for an American Lit class I was taking.  We were to write a story with "local color," a story that conveyed a distinct region or area, including dialect and geography.  I chose my grandparents' farm and the words of my grandfather to tell the story I had bottled up in my head.  So, when he died, I did a painting based on that story, a story I dearly love because, from my perspective, it so clearly captured my grandfather and all that I esteemed him to be.  I treasure that painting and that story so.

Because that's what I have to do to wash the dust off my soul.  Because that's where I find some semblance of healing and satisfaction in the face of loss.

There is healing in the act of creation.

"God created the heavens and the earth...and he saw that it was good..." 

Who Knew...

It's always good to do things a little differently every once in awhile, even the simple things.  Our office normally does a canned food drive every Christmas for the local food pantry.  The results are moderate.  This year, however, we decided to plunge in and spice things up by adding a new dimension to the food drive: a canned food sculpture competition. (Go ahead, make fun all you want. You're just jealous your office didn't think of it first.) 

Yes, you read that correctly - a canned food sculpture competition.  Each department was responsible for designing a holiday-themed sculpture, constructing it within a week.  Staff members would then vote on the best one.  Our small but mighty Administrative Team engineered a snowman out of mixed vegetables, corn, green beans, and peas.  We had to give ourselves a little pat on the back because I think we surprised even ourselves at how much fun we had.  I'm a little biased, but I think our little snowman turned out pretty great (even though we only got one vote).  

The Communications Department engineered what I thought was a sweet fireplace, made primarily out of Ramen Noodles and boxes of cereal.  (They might have influenced quite a few votes by having Tim Horton's donut holes - just sayin'.)  The voting was incredibly close - one vote separated first from second.  The winner ended up being the Member Services Department and their gingerbread house also made out of a lot of Ramen Noodles and cotton balls.

Who knew the usual canned food drive could be oh so much more fun.

 

Look Closely

It's been awhile since I carved a few pumpkins.  My right arm certainly knew that it had been awhile considering it felt like it was going numb after just ten minutes of trying to carve out part of Mickey Mouse's ear.  Now, I'm not a big fan of Halloween in general.  I think the holiday could go away all together and we'd be better off without it.  However, I do love fall and all things that go along with fall - cider, sweaters, scarves, football, changing leaves, pumpkins, etc.  Thus, the pumpkin carving party I had with my niece and Nick's little sister. 

I really didn't want to have a pumpkin that had a particular Halloween theme - no spooky ghosts, or "trick or treat," or anything like that.  So we went with Mickey.  My mom loves Disney and I wasn't feeling partial to any particular concept myself, so I figured why not.  We made a pit stop at a local pumpkin farm, where we carefully (and quickly - since it was pretty chilly that day) selected our pumpkins, grabbed our carving kits, printed out our patterns, and dove in.  

Grace had opted for a Perry the Platypus pattern.  If you are a Phineas and Ferb fan (unlike myself), then you'll know that Perry is one of the characters from the show.  This is not a show that I happen to be well-acquainted with so I wasn't entirely sure what Perry the Platypus would look like, I was just informed that he was blue. 

This is what Perry the Platypus should look like:

And this is what Perry the Platypus looks like on a pumpkin, Grace's version:

Later on, Grace came up to me and insisted I come look at her pumpkin.  Now that she had put a votive candle in it, it really looked like Perry.

Bless you, child, for being so confident.   

New Favorite

So, I may have discovered my new favorite design technique that I will probably use more than a normal person should.  Erica sent me this link the other day from Pinterest and I immediately fell in love with the idea.

You basically paint your nails a base color, dip them in some rubbing alcohol, plaster some newspaper on them, peel it off, and voila!    Love it!

Scraps of Moments

Sometimes you need some reminders that life is funny.  And sometimes you need to be inspired.  And sometimes you just need to remember.

I keep a notebook for that.  

I started it several years ago and it is now one of my favorite things I own.  It started out as a means to consolidate all of these scraps of magazines and newspapers I had lying (laying?  I still never remember which to use) around my dorm room and eventual apartment.  It's this hodge-podge of things that have captured my imagination or attention over the years.   Some of the clippings make me laugh - I pull those out when I need to do just that.  Some of the clippings remind me of significant historical moments, ones I don't want to forget.  Some clippings are just creative and clever ideas I have saved for my some-day house, things to lock away for future use.  Most items are just headlines cut out of magazines, or photographs I find compelling.  On the front cover I put a quote that I snagged from a magazine, which said, "I surround myself with things I love, anything that inspires me."  It's my collection of things I love and things that inspire me.   

  

There's the one that makes me laugh every time without fail, the one on the left here.  It's a picture of a little black pug and the caption reads, "I enjoy licking faces.  And toilets."  Another page has a clipping from Sports Illustrated, when they interviewed Olympic hurdler, Jana Rawlinson, on why she she had her breast implants removed.  She said, "I absolutely loved having bigger boobs, but I don't want to shortchange Australia either."  I mean, come on.  That's funny. 

Then I've got newspaper clippings, ones about the 2008 election and how Sarah Palin obliterated the "feminist template," how the "Buckeyes unite their faithful like no other team,"  and 'Do ladies love country boys? Not if they're undereducated."  Those things that inspire, make me ask questions.   

Then there's the "stay baseball" ad.  I don't even like baseball, but I like this ad.  It says, "Stay baseball.  Stay our favorite pastime.  Stay the best part of a lazy summer day, or a tense October night.  Stay the bonding experience of choice for dads and kids across the country.  Stay obsessively statistical.  And incredibly poetic.  Stay baseball."  I can appreciate it for what it's ultimately saying even if I can't say much for the game itself.  I also sometimes pull out entire spreads of magazines, the photographs that capture a brief moment in time.  The one on the right is when Zenyatta won the Breeders' Cup Classic in 2009.  I felt like it was such a quinessential moment, with Mike Smith opening his arms up to the heavens, photographers waiting to capture the emotion.   

I like pulling out my notebook when I need a good laugh, when I'm feeling nostalgic and need to remember.  Tonight was one of those nights, no particular reason - and it just felt good to laugh.    And then I'm left to wonder why I'm silly enough to save clippings that say things like "I just want to be me.  Without the hot flashes."  ;)

Footprints of Adventures

Everybody collects something, some more than others. Just watch Hoarders on A&E for proof of that. I know one lady who has thousands of Barbie dolls and every other kind of doll imaginable. I had a middle school teacher that collected frog paraphernalia. You can imagine what her Christmas gifts typically were. Some people collect the intangibles, though. Stories. Memories. Friendships. Adventures.

I've got a few of my own collections. When I was a kid I collected pencils. You know, the really cool pencils with the special tops and erasers. I've got one with ash from Mount St. Helen, another with the word "Coke" written in different languages that I snagged from the museum down in Georgia, and a variety of others that represent my travels.

I've also got a stash of postcards, the bulk of the collection coming from my 4th grade teacher. I had his wife for 3rd grade and then I had him for 4th grade and both of my brothers had them, as well. Well, in 4th grade that teacher introduced me to all things Route 66 and postcards. Ever since then it's been on my bucket list to take a trip down Route 66 from Chicago to Santa Monica, start to finish. Anyway, once I left 4th grade, my teacher and I started sending postcards to each other, one from each place we happened to be traveling to. He and his wife has criss-crossed the country on numerous occasions and were always diligent in sending me a postcard from their travels. We kept it up for nearly 10 years before here in the last several we've just haven't kept in touch as well. But, yes, ten years.

Smashed pennies also join the ranks of things I collect - I've got somewhere around 80 or so, all packed nice and neat in the special smashed penny display binder random stores sell. I think my first one was probably from grandparents (or at least I think it was them) - it was one from the Pearl Harbor Memorial. I've even got a few from Russia. I was in shock when I was in St. Basil's Cathedral in Moscow and turned the corner and found a smashes ruble machine. I couldn't believe it. I got a smashed ruble of every design they had available. They've even got an entire website devoted to the hobby. I checked to see if Kenya had any, but no such luck.

But maybe the thing I like collecting the most are the little artifacts of life - places visited, notes written, movies seen, flights taken, football games attended, musicals watched - all represented by ticket stubs. I don't know when exactly I started collecting them, but I think sometime around early middle school, maybe 5th or 6th grade.  And ever since then, so far as I've been able to manage, I have every ticket stub to every movie I have ever been to, every football game, every trip, every museum exhibit, a few plane tickets, etc.  I figure it's better than collecting t-shirts and random things that take up space that I'll probably forget I even have.  I've got two 16x20 frames at the moment, plus two smaller 8x10 frames, chocked full.  So I sort and organize and frame the tickets. And look back and remember the stories, the memories, the friendships, and the adventures.

How do you collect the artifacts of your life?

New Favorite Artist

I went to Columbia's Art in the Park over the weekend and I came across my new favorite artist, Randal Spangler. I'm drawn to any piece of art that has vivid colors and is imaginative - Randal's work is just that. But it's all done in colored pencil. The detail on some of his pieces is astounding and I fell in love with it all as soon as I saw it. I'm just kicking myself for not buying a print of the drawing that I absolutely adore, "Sanctuary of Knowledge."