Donna Druchunas's Blog

"One day in Vilnius is more interesting than a year in Toronto", Darius said.

I looked around Dovid’s apartment. This party was certainly more interesting than anything I’d experienced in the past year at home. Surrounded by writers, professors, students, and journalists from around the world, and by a collection of books in four or five different languages overflowing the shelves in every room, I felt at ease in a strange way. And I wasn't even drinking vodka.

"What made you decide to move to Vilnius from Canada?" I'd asked.

"Boredom."

Such a simple yet complex answer.

"One day in Vilnius is more interesting than a year in Toronto."

There is nothing more toxic to me than boredom. A day in Vilnius is definitely more interesting than a year in my current hometown, Longmont, Colorado. Is it just the voluntary dislocation, moving myself into an unfamiliar place to jar the senses? I don't think so. Some places seem to be inherently more interesting than others. It's not necessarily the terrain, the weather, or the architecture, although these things certainly play a part. It's the people, the culture, and the intellectual milieu. Cumbria, England, for example, is beautiful, foreign, and boring.

Officially, I'm not an intellectual. I dropped out of high school, worked in blue collar jobs, and never got a degree (although I did get a high school diploma and started college several times). Unofficially, however, I find myself feeling at home in an environment where people are more comfortable discussing literature and world politics than football and celebrity news. I am, perhaps, a misfit, not belonging fully in either world.

Being a misfit, a creature hovering between two worlds, suits me. The description fits in many ways: I am a high school dropout who loves academia and intellectualism. I am an ex-Christian atheist who feels a strong attachment to my Jewish roots. I am an American who longs to live in Europe. The inability to belong to any one group is, perhaps, genetic. I am half Lithuanian and half Russian/Jewish, something that does not seem very odd to my American friends, but a combination that makes many Lithuanians take a step back in shock. The alienation can be frustrating at times, but I find that it is offset by a unique ability to forge bridges between two disparate groups. I can, in general, understand complex issues from multiple viewpoints, and often I can successfully translate between people who cannot seem to understand each other, even if they speak the same language.

A day in Jerusalem, I think, would also be more interesting than a year in Toronto. In that city, according to poet Peter Cole, you are "surrounded by people with whom you disagree, but whom you like very much." How refreshing.

That's how Lithuania has seemed to me, as an outsider anyway. I think America used to be that way, but in the past decade the public dialog has disintegrated into a giant food fight, with the prospect of real violence seeming less ridiculous than the prospect of real conversation. I wonder, though, how close to the surface the violence is in these other places where it has, perhaps obviously, erupted more often than it has in the US.

The saying "may you live in interesting times," is meant to be a curse. And perhaps it is. But it seems that some of us are not fit to live in a perpetual state of blessedness.

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I was saving this for an essay, but after I read this short interview on Publisher's Weekly, I decided I'd go ahead and post my own thoughts. Katherine Russell Rich, author of Dreaming in Hindi, understands this. When asked why she returned to India even though her first experiences there were somewhat negative, and sometimes even violent, she answered:

I love the country. I feel I became this other person that now has no other expression. That part of me can't be made to exist here [in the U.S.] because there's nobody who understands the way I was altered by everything there. There is a Chinese curse: may you have an interesting life. And there in India I certainly did.

Sounds like Euro Donna, dreaming in Lithuanian, to me.

Update: I am enjoying Dreaming in Hindi immensely. I spent the last few summers in Lithuania studying the language, amongst other things, and I find that this book pulls me back into the feeling of being in that place where everything is strange and you can't quite understand what's going on. Katherine Russell Rich has captured the essence of the language-learning experience perfectly. I also love the way she has interspersed the science and linguistics information with the parts of her story. It all flows beautifully and makes the book much richer than it would have been as a simple memoir or a simple non-fiction book. I look forward to going back and studying more in the future with the ideas in this book to enrich my own experiences.

Last year I wrote about how I was going to start offering online classes. I still want to do that, but have not had the time to work out the technology (even though I am a geek). Next year, when I'm done with the knitting books I've been working on this year, I am going to revamp my business. I want to focus much more on online classes and sales of downloads on the knitting side, and I also want to start writing about other things besides knitting. (Don't worry, I have 4 knitting books in the process of being written, edited, and produced, so I won't stop putting out knitting books any time soon!) I've been working on essays lately, in my spare time, and it's really been fun.

This post by Shannon Okey touches on a lot of these things, but I'd like to focus on the online classes right now.

Tech teleclasses good for fiberistas + more
from knitgrrl

On audio only online classes

There’s nothing that’s technically easier to do than to hop on the phone and gab for an hour. I already do a lot of phone-based tech support so I know it works even for people who are visually oriented. On top of all this, I can easily record the teleclasses and make them available to the participants if they miss a meeting. And you don’t have to wait to download a HUGE video file. Missed classes are as easy a listening to a podcast.

I love this idea. It's like recording an audio book, which for me was frakking awesome! I had such a great time, I want to spend more of my time doing this type of work.

I've also been talking a little bit with Stephanie Japel about doing some online classes with the system she's developed using Ning. (We also use Ning for our beta programs at Media Lab, so I have some idea about how it works.)

Here's what her site says about the online classes:

Hello, and welcome to my online classroom! Here you will be able to sign up for classes that I normally only get to teach on the road! Classes are taught using a combination of pre-recorded video, live chat, PDF handouts, forum discussions and more! Fully interactive and with the feel of a small-classroom setting!

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I will be participating in the 2009 Fiber Arts TeleSummit on Saturday and Sunday, November 14 and 15, 2009. I'll be speaking about travel and textiles. Here's the lineup of speakers and topics:

Donna Druchunas - The Lure of Researching Textiles in Faraway Lands

Daryl Lancaster - Weave for the Body, Weave for the Soul

Deborah Robson - Writing and Publishing the Knitting Book

Eva Weaver - Graffiti Weaving

Betty Busby - A Fine Art Approach to Fiber

Kathryn Patterson - Quick Quilts

Brecia Kravolic-Logan - Knitting NAKED

Lisa Sonora Beam - Identify Your Ideal Customer

Lisa Call - Social Media and the Fiber Arts

Elaine Quehl - From Healing Stitch to Meaningful Livelihood

Craft, Creativity and Career—all in one conference! For knitters, weavers, quilters, and textile artists in every genre. Learn from the best! Join the first Fiber Arts Telesummit, making experts from around the world available to you in your own living room. Workshops on craft, creativity and career for textile artists everywhere.

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What do you think? Should I do more of this? It's completely fun for me so if you're interested in seeing more of this kind of thing, please let me know! Do you like the audio idea, possibly with handouts to download, or would you rather see more visual online presentations?

Lately I’ve been thinking about my relationship to writing. This morning driving home from the pool, I thought about how it was a treat for me to get to go swimming almost every day. I never feel like I have to be disciplined to go to the pool every day. I don’t have to force myself to get out of the house for this. It’s a positive experience. So is taking my daily walk to the coffee shop. The chai waiting for me at the cafe has turned my daily walk from a chore to an opportunity. (Taking a walk to nowhere is a chore.)

All of this musing made me think of Natalie Goldberg writing about how she bribes herself with chocolate to write. I’ve read similar thoughts by many other authors, who find that they need bribes, rewards, or special rituals to make them sit down and write. They need to schedule time to write, and be disciplined to show up at the appointed time. I’ve never been very comfortable with this idea, even thought I’ve more or less bought into it without thinking.

I want to change my whole relationship with writing to where I feel privileged to have the time to write for an hour or so a day, not where I feel like I have to put it on my to-do list because it’s an obligation. I want to write, and if I don’t, what am I doing trying to be a writer? Just think of how many people want to be writers but have full-time jobs, kids or parents to take care of, and a plethora of other obligations vying for their time. Here I am, with the ability to write for an hour or two every day and I consistently find myself forcing myself to sit down with my pad and pen or my computer. Something's wrong here.

This week, I've been working on an article that really drew me in. I found myself looking forward to my writing time every day, thinking of ways I could sneak in more time to write in between doing other necessities around the house and working on my day-job tasks. That's more like it!

Writing should be the treat, not the drudgery! Writing is the chai, not the walk; the pool, not the weight-lifting; the chocolate, not the chore.

I have to finish an article today. I would say that it's about three-quarters complete. It needs some bits of info filled in, one sidebar needs major revision, and the rest just needs a once-over polish. I'm not quite ready to work on it yet, so I thought I'd blog about my weekend to warm up.

As you know, I've been working on giving Euro Donna free reign in my life. This weekend, she was completely in charge! I had to work on my article and do a bit of work for my day job, but I didn't want to get bogged down in anxiety, so instead of forcing myself to stay home and work, Dom and I went away for the weekend! We stayed with a friend who lives in the mountains and went to the Estes Park Film Festival.

We drove up Friday night and saw two films. Between the films, we went out for a wonderful Nepalese dinner and a quick stop at my favorite bookstore, MacDonald Book Shop. Although this is a small store, it's the kind of shop that nurtures readers, and I never fail to find something interesting on the shelves, usually something surprising. I was not disappointed this time.

Poking through the travel narratives, as is my habit these days, I saw a book with an intriguing cover. It had pomegranates on it, and a statuette of a woman standing in between the fruits. I love books with pomegranates on the cover (Fruitflesh is a favorite). The title of this new book is Traveling with Pomegranates, printed in luscious and lustrous red ink. I knew I had to have it. (I later noticed that the author is Sue Monk Kidd, author of The Secret Life of Bees, but since I haven't read that, or seen the film, it wasn't a factor in my purchase decision.)

I flipped the book open to the middle and read a couple of pages while waiting for the 8:30 film to start. I was immediately hooked. I was reading about a woman turning 50, a writer trying to find her true self. I couldn't but help think about Euro Donna. As I started reading the book in earnest the next day, I realized that there was a second author, Ann Kidd Taylor, Sue's daughter. This book is the story of the two women. The subtitle says it is a mother-daughter story. That is part of it. But for me, it was the story of two writers finding their way through travel: the older woman at a major turning point in her career, dreaming of becoming a novelist; the younger at the start of her career, just beginning to realize that she wants to be a writer. But the book is about so much more. It is about spirituality without the structure of organized religion and patriarchal traditions, and it is about allowing ourselves to find inspiration and spiritual direction wherever it comes from, no matter how strange the source may seem.

The book isn't perfect. For me the relationship between the mother and daughter seemed forced. I could relate more to the older author's voice than to the younger. I wasn't surprised by that. It reminded me of reading biographies when I was a child and how I always got bored after the subject grew up. The metaphors in the book get a little heavy handed and both authors have a tendency to over-explain, which tarnishes the magic just a bit. But before I went to bed on Saturday, I found that I'd finished the whole book. I'd also gone hiking, attended a screenwriting Q&A session, gone out for lunch with Dom, and visited a local craft fair.

I wasn't working on my article but I wasn't feeling rushed or anxious either. On Sunday morning I woke up, and wrote for several hours. The article was almost finished. I was relaxed and refreshed, ready to face a new week of work. And it was all thanks to Euro Donna's calm approach to life and work and creativity.

Now I will have to re-read Traveling with Pomegranates slowly, a chapter or two each night, to savour what I missed on my first reading.

I really do. I could never memorize how to do kitchener stitch even after making dozens of pairs of socks. But I have been working on a stole (pictures to come later in the week) where I wanted to work both ends toward the center so the pattern would line up a certain way. I was trying to decide if I should bite the bullet and graft the ends together with kitchener stitch, or compromise and use a three-needle bind off, even though that is not quite flat and it is not really as stretchy as I would like for the center back seam on a stole. Although I can successfully do kitchener stitch - following the directions in A Knitter's Companion by Vicki Square - for the eight stitches in a sock toe, I have never been able to graft a longer seam without mistakes.

I recently bought the book Knits from the North Sea: Lace in the Shetland Tradition by Carol Rasmussen Noble and Margaret Leask Peterson. I hadn't really looked at it, because my mother "adopted" it right after I bought it. Fortunately, my mother likes to actually read knitting books as much as I do, and she called my attention to a section in this book on Russian grafting. This technique seemed appropriate for my project first because I hate kitchener stitch, and second because I'm using an Estonian pattern that was modified by a friend of mine who was born in Russia.

In Russian grafting, you end each piece with live stitches and weave the stitches together (without using any more yarn or a sewing needle) in a way that produces a flat, stretchy seam. It is not totally invisible on the knit side of stockinette stitch, but it's tidy and unobtrusive. On the purl side and on garter stitch, it is completely invisible. I was able to understand the instructions in the book, but I found that I was somewhat clumsy at actually following the steps, which require you to pull stitches through each other. So what did I do? I examined what was happening with the stitches, and figured out a way to do it that was easier - for me, anyway!

My version of Russian grafting - employing the method of passing stitches over, just like when you are binding off - seems to give the exact same results as the traditional Russian version. (Right now I'm tired and thinking there might be something slightly different, but when I was joining the ends of my stole together, it seemed like both versions would yield identical results.I was right.)

Donna's Russian Grafting

Finish one piece after a RS row and the other piece after a WS row. Place the two pieces of knitting next to each other with the RS facing you and the needles pointing together just as if you were in the middle of a row of knitting. The working yarn for both pieces will be at the center, near the tips of the needles.

1. Slip 2 sts to the left needle. Pass the second stitch from the tip of the left needle over the first, as if binding off (a mirror image).

2. Slip 2 sts to the right needle. Pass the second stitch from the tip of the right needle over the first, as if binding off.

That's it. Repeat steps 1 and 2 until all sts are used up. Thread a piece of matching yarn through the last stitch, tie a square knot (or not), and weave in ends.

All right then, off to bed.

If you enjoyed my posts about textile museums in Lithuania and England, you won't want to miss this post by Joanne Seiff, author of Fiber Gathering:

The "weaving" room of the museum was so perfectly done--it made me long to bring people there and to use it as a teaching tool. Crete had small household amounts of silk and cotton for spinning and weaving, as well as larger amounts of flax and wool. There were small displays for each of these processes and each was absolutely correct and well done. There were displays of naturally dyed yarns, hand dyed and woven coverlets and other textiles, and even an area where silk reeling was displayed.

The rest is here.

I just saw this message from Meg Swansen at Schoolhouse Press on Ravelry:

Susanna Lewis' Knitting Lace

Thanks to all you persistent lace knitters who enquired about a reprint of this splendid book.
This is for those of you who missed out on this title first time around (oop since 1992) - and are loathe to shell out $250 for a used copy on Amazon.
Everything in the reprint is unchanged except we made 3 small repairs in the written instructions; if you follow the charts, you are cool.
We are SO pleased to finally have permission to reprint this True Classic. OK, maybe it is not old enough to be a classic yet – but page 122 may be worth the price of admission.
We hope to have books in our hands in about 5 weeks.
Meg

Meg also said, "Yes...a Schoolhouse Press publication. We have subsidiary rights from the Brooklyn Museum and I worked with Susanna to catch as many errors as possible.
twenny-nighn-nighdee-fahv."

YayYayYayYayYay!

If you are a designer and you love lace, you NEED this book.

If you are a knitter and you love to dig into the technicalities of stitches, you NEED this book.

If you want to be a better lace knitter, you NEED this book.

If you want to design your own lace stitches, you NEED this book.

I think I will order a few dozen copies. In case it ever goes oop again.

No time for writing this weekend -- it's canning time! Made a batch of spaghetti sauce yesterday and today we are making salsa and pesto. But, for your reading pleasure, I published Dealing with Doubt: Part 5 of My journey into and, later, out of Christianity on de-conversion.com. Enjoy! Feel free to comment there or here.

I'm very excited to let you know that next week I will be spending two days in a recording studio to record the audio-book version of Arctic Lace! I wanted to read the book myself because I enjoy listening to authors read their own works much more than I enjoy listening to professional readers, especially for nonfiction, when the author is also the narrator, speaking in their own voice in the figurative sense as well. The producer at Knitting Out Loud originally wanted to hire a professional reader for Arctic Lace, but I kept hinting that I would like to read the book myself. Finally, I offered to make a small sample recording and send it by email. I think I read well. But who can judge their own voice? So I sat down, recorded a couple of paragraphs and shot it out in email. (Listen and let me know what you think.) Guess what? I got the job! So I'll be practicing all week, getting ready to go to the studio next Tuesday.

The only downside to an audio knitting book is that it doesn't - can't really - include patterns. The stories in Arctic Lace are fascinating and the book is fun to read, but most people who read knitting books also want to make projects. So, after discussing the idea with Deb Robson, my editor at Nomad Press, I decided that we will release a PDF version of the pattern section of Arctic Lace when the audio book comes out. So you can get the best of both worlds. If you prefer to listen to me reading the narrative, you will be able to buy downloadable patterns. (Some of the Ethnic Knitting Discovery PDF patterns are available now.

And don't forget about my Arctic Lace knitting cruise and Alaska tour next May with Lucy Neatby! It will be great. I will be teaching some new and some old lace knitting workshops, and am very excited about getting to visit the Oomingmak co-op and Musk Ox Farm on the tour.

The cruise will also include the book launch for my next lace knitting book about Dorothy Reade, who designed the harpoon pattern knitted by the Oomingmak co-op knitters, and who helped the co-op develop their original product line. I can't wait to meet Lucy, and I hope to meet some of you in person in Alaska.

Yesterday my friend, author Susan Tweit, published a very touching post on her blog. Susan's husband has recently had some potentially serious health problems, which has made Susan, among other things, look more deeply into her soul to evaluate her daily life. She muses:

I needed to stop and reflect, which I've been doing. Where these strange and frightening events have sent me (at least in the metaphorical sense) is to thinking about how to live my life in a "residential" or "retreatful" way. I've let my days become too cluttered with "shoulds," too frenetic, too busy. I want to make every day more like I'm on a writing residency, except right at home, as part of how I live and work and love."

I added this comment:

I have been struggling with becoming more grounded in my daily life - finding a way to continually enter into "retreat" mode - for some time, and it's something that feels particularly poignant after returning from each of my European trips. It seems to require constant effort. Perhaps that is just because I have not learned to hold onto the lessons I've learned yet, or because American society does not provide a natural nesting ground for those of us who want to live a more contemplative life.

To which Susan replied:

Donna, I know just what you mean about American culture not providing a natural "nesting ground" (love that phrase!) for those of us who want to pursue a mindful and contemplative path in our every day. I guess we just have to invent the path and the process and spread it outward, like ripples spreading across a pond after you drop your pebble in the water.

I love this idea... creating our own path, creating process. And sharing it, spreading the groundedness, the satisfaction with process, the love of being. Instead of wishing I was in Europe so Euro Donna could thrive, I want to find a way for her to thrive here and to spread that experience so maybe America becomes a friendlier place for those who don't want to participate in the rat race. That doesn't mean I'll stop going to Europe or that I'll let Ameri Donna die or whither away. I need her, too. She gives me ambition, she feeds my drive, she has an entrepreneurial "go get it" spirit that Euro Donna lacks. Somehow I need to integrate my two halves and find a balance that is productive and healthy. As I invent the path and the process, I will continue to share my experiences here.

Enjoy the day.

It's no secret: I like making things. It's why I write; it's why I knit; it's why I do canning.

This is the time of year when, from time to time, canning takes precidence over everything else. One thing I love about canning is that it's so immediate. It's something you can't plan or schedule. You can have a general idea of when produce will be ripe, but you can't know in advance on which day you will pick 45 pounds of tomatoes, making it absolutely necessary to devote the day to canning spaghetti sauce. That was today for me. It's one of the few things, maybe the only thing, I do that requires such immediate action based on circumstances. It brings out Euro Donna.



In America, we are not accustomed to living in sync with nature. We must plan everything in advance, put it on our calendar, and know what is going to happen. Euro Donna is not very happy with this. She prefers to live day by day. Ameri Donna is not sure what to do about that, because she likes to have everything organized and arranged ahead of time.



Doesn't Euro Donna sound so much sexier than Ameri Donna? The truth is they may be more alike than I am wont to admit. Ever since I quit working at an office and have been free to make my own schedule, I have not been able to make a schedule! I do plan appointments in advance, but other than that, my work is based on what draws my attention. Sometimes that's because a deadline is iminent. But usally it's based on something less tangible, something I can't actually put my finger on. It must be Euro Donna. I'm sure she was not born the first time I crossed the Atlantic. She's been lurking under the surface, waiting for a chance to come out, probably since I started kindergarten and had to pay attention to the calendar and the clock.

Here's another article I had originally published on Black Purl Magazine, which is no longer online.

I'm sitting here at 1:53am wide awake because of stress. My accountant seems to have decided that she does not want to work for me any more, and she's disappeared with the work she did (or maybe didn't do?) for me over the summer while I was gone. So I am faced with a quarter's worth of bookkeeping to redo for my day job. Plus I am reviewing the author proofs for a book, I will be recording the Arctic Lace audio book next week, write and article for Piecework, and more that I won't list here.

Euro Donna can't deal with this. Euro Donna doesn't want to deal with this. She wants to pack it all in and go back to Europe where the pace is slower. She wants me to just quit my job and not pay my mortgage and just rent a small flat somewhere (in Europe, of course). She wants me to stop taking on so many frakking projects all at the same time. I need to find a way to appease her. I need to find a way to let her live more even while I am here in the US because she does not like being tied up for most of the year. I need to figure out how to drug USA Donna so she does not keep signing up for so much work so I can go more deeply into each project instead of doing a half-assed job because I've over committed. I am open to suggestions!

OK, here's the article on Turkey.

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Turkish Delight for Knitters

Originally published in Black Purl Magazine

My interest in knitting has been kept alive over the years by the almost infinite variety of color, pattern, and texture that is found in collections of knitters and museums around the world. Although I love the smooth, quiet repetition of knitting a rectangular scarf in garter stitch using a luxurious yarn, it is the endless diversity of technique and style that keeps me interested in knitting as more than a way to keep my hands busy while watching TV.

Originally published in Black Purl Magazine



This hat is made from a mitten chart I found in Magnificent Mittens by Anna Zilboorg. You can make a hat out of any mitten pattern. For an adult's hat, you simply double the number of stitches and pattern repeats and knit the same length as you would for a mitten. Making a child's hat from an adult mitten pattern is a little more complex. In this hat, I worked 3 repeats of the main pattern for the circumference and I worked for the full length. The hat will not pull down snugly on the top of the child's head. Instead it will fold over on the top.

My first published crochet pattern made it onto the cover of Inside Crochet magazine! I am quite excited about this, although I'm not sure how much crochet designing I will do. While it's easier to actually design and make crochet items than it is knitting, it's much harder to write and proof patterns. But this was a special project for me. Last year I saw a beautiful pair of crochet linen gloves in a museum in Lithuania. I was studying knitting, so I almost didn't take a photo of the gloves, but in the end, I could not resist. I'm glad I did, because when I was asked to contribute to Inside Crochet, I knew exactly what I wanted to do: a reproduction of these wedding gloves!

I ordered some laceweight linen yarn but discovered that my crochet skills were not up to speed. I could not get nice looking stitches, no matter how small of a hook I used. So I spoke with the editor and we decided to use Crystal Palace Panda Silk yarn, a beautifully soft and lustrous yarn that is 52% bamboo, 43% merino, and 5% silk. This yarn was perfect for the gloves, which are as elegant as, but softer than, the originals.

I also have an article about Lithuanian crochet in the same issue. It's been as popular as knitting since both crafts were introduced to the region, and every single Lithuanian knitting book I've seen includes information about crochet as well as about knitting. The two are married together in a way that was more common in the US a century ago. I'm very fond of combinations of needlework techniques used together in single projects, or worn together in clothing ensembles. The first book I wanted to write was going to be "Crochet for Knitters." It's a long story, but that book never came about. Since then a few books that combine the two crafts have been published, and I feel less driven to write my own book on the topic.

My grandmother knitted sweaters, but she crocheted accessories and home dec pieces. I find this a good breakout for the two crafts. Small circular items are often easier to make with crochet, and large bulky items like afghans are much faster to crochet. Still, when I sit down to make something I almost always go for the knitting needles. I don't know why.

Today I'd like to talk about three action items that are listed in the last chapter of Travel as a Political Act. For me, the first two relate to my work, that is my writing, which is not just a job, but a passion and a mission. It's one of the things I create to make meaning.

Encourage others to travel.

Remember that many would love to travel and gain a broader perspective, but cannot.

This is something I want to do in my writing about knitting. I don't want it to only be about fiber and stitches. I want my writing to be about people and culture and tradition and communication. Can writing about knitting be a political act? Should it be? This is something that's been on my mind since I wrote Arctic Lace. It's been even more weighing heavily on my mind since I was in Lithuania this summer, trying to figure out what to include and what to leave out of the book about Lithuanian knitting.

I still haven't decided exactly what I will include in the new book, but I'm sure my editor will let me know if I go to far! I do know that for me, writing about knitting IS a political act. It has to be. It's the only reason I do it. There are enough - more than enough - designers who are as talented - more talented - than I am putting out books of patterns and technical knitting information. The reasons I write about knitting go beyond just loving the craft and learning about history.

To date, Arctic Lace has been my most successful book. I've made a pact with myself not to write any more knitting books in the future unless they are also books that expose readers to different ideas and cultures and help people reach out beyond the walls that we all too often surround ourselves with. No more books that are just about pattern and technique. If it's not about people and promoting understanding and tolerance and personal growth, then it's not going to be published with my name on the cover.

I feel like I'm at the beginning of a successful career that is also going to be spiritually fulfilling.

On the other hand, I feel like I am failing on a more personal level:

Promote the wisdom and importance of talking to your "enemies," even in everyday life. Confront problems - at home, at work, in your community - with calm, rational, respectful communication.

I un-friended two family members on facebook yesterday. I couldn't stand to read what they were posting any more and I couldn't find it within myself to comment in a sane and thoughtful way. Is it because it is more difficult to talk about these things calmly with family? Is it because flaming on the internet is easy, while it is difficult to blow up in someone's face when you are meeting in person?

I do have friends who hold views that are very different than mine in many areas - religion, politics, and so forth - and we never raise our voices (except in that friendly NY way that a friend of mine calls "high volume tolerance"), even when talking about issues we are passionate about. But there are other people in my life, all relatives, who are so closed-minded and reactionary that I just can't talk to them. They regurgitate information they've heard at church or on talk radio or on the internet without researching the validity of the claims. Trying to show them that they might be wrong or that the issue might be just a little more complicated than they think is like banging my head against a brick wall.

Maybe it's me. Maybe it's them. But I want to take responsibility for my own actions and reactions, and find a way to maintain my composure even when I feel like I am talking to a brainless zombie. I want to have empathy for people who are afraid. I want to be, I know it's cliche, the change I'd like to see in the world. But I don't know how.

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Not sure how much more I'll write about Travel as a Political Act. But I know I'll continue to think about it for a long time. Thanks, Rick!

I'm going to quote a fairly long passage (3 paragraphs) from Travel as a Political Act. The last paragraph is, I think, my favorite in the entire book. It stands alone, but for reasons that you'll see if you read the entire except, it's more poignant to me taken in context. The passage begins with Steves heading out to see a church on an island.

I hired a guy with a dinghy to ferry me out and was met by a young woman who gave me a tour. In the sacristy hung a piece of embroidery - a 25-year long labor of love made by a local parishioner 200 years ago. It was as exquisite as possible, lovingly made with the finest materials available: silk and the woman's own hair. I could trace her laborious progress through the line of cherubs that ornamented the border. As the years went by, the hair of the angels (like the hair of the devout artist) turned from dark brown to white. Humble and anonymous as she was, she had faith that her work was worthwhile and would be appreciated - as it is, two centuries later, by a steady parade of travelers from distant lands.

I've been at my work for over 25 years now. I also have faith that it (my work, if not my hair) will be appreciated. That's perhaps less humble than the woman was, but her work reassured me that we live on through our deeds. Her devotion to her creation (as well as to her creator) is an inspiration to do both good and lasting work. While traveling, I'm often struck by how people give meaning to life by producing and contributing.

I didn't take a photograph of the embroidery. For some reason, I didn't even take notes. At the moment, I didn't realize I was experiencing the highlight of my day. The impression of the woman's tenderly created embroidery needed - like a good red wine - time to breathe. That was a lesson for me. I was already mentally on to the next thing. When the power of the impression opened up, it was rich and full-bodied...but I was long gone. If travel is going to have the impact on you that it should, you have to climb into those little dinghies and reach for those experiences - the best ones won't come to you. And you have to let them breathe.

Several things strike me here.

First, it's unusual for men to write about textiles in this way. Usually they would write only about "important" pieces that belonged to kings and queens, or that had some sort of historical significance. This also stuck me because it's in the chapter on Yugoslavia, and all the other works I've been reading about the Balkans also talk about textiles. But the other things I've been reading have all been by and about women.

The last sentence of the second paragraph ties into what I've been thinking about process recently, and what I've been thinking about for several years regarding creating your own purpose in life. "[P]eople give meaning to life by producing and contributing." What a beautiful and inspiring thought. Instead of filling our days with consuming, the way the media and US culture encourages us to be, the way to find meaning is to produce and create. To contribute to society rather than just being a consumer - literally and figuratively.

And finally, the last paragraph, which is my favorite in the book, expresses my own experience and unspoken philosophy of travel. To really experience the richness of different places, you have to put out an effort. You have to step away from the tourist path. You have to head out on your own and look for the things that interest you. You have to lose yourself in the place. Once in a while I go on a vacation, visit tourist sites, stay in a fancy hotel or B&B, and take a passive approach to travel. But the most rewarding experiences are when I let myself sink into an area and immerse myself in the local scene. When I don't rush around from one sight seeing adventure to the next, but allow myself to simmer in the new cultural milieu. When I am not traveling as an escape, but as an adventure and a life experience and I allow myself time to appreciate and absorb new experiences, I am most fulfilled.

So, those are my thoughts for the day. More tomorrow (maybe) on action items to make travel politically meaningful.

Last night I picked up a copy of Travel as a Political Act by Rick Steves and then stayed up until midnight reading. I was waiting for this book to come out, after I saw Rick's show about Iran on PBS some time ago. I loved the way he approached his trip and separated the people from the politics, reminding us that governments (even our own) do not always represent the true values and desires of the individuals living under their jurisdiction. And even when they do, and we still disagree with the government and the people, by getting to know individuals we can gain empathy and understanding. We can agree to disagree. We can be friends with people who hold differing views and opinions. We can embrace diversity. (We Americans sometimes seem to forget that the original motto of our nation was E pluribus unum, Latin for "Out of Many, One." The Many is at least as important as the One.) I'd forgotten to keep an eye out for this book, and was pleasantly surprised to discover it as one of the featured books in the travel book section at our local Borders store.

At any rate, coincidences abound and the first chapter in the book is about the former Yugoslavia and the Balkans. I've been reading about this area since I stumbled upon Patrick Leigh Fermor's Between the Woods and the Water: On Foot to Constantinople: From The Middle Danube to the Iron Gates earlier this year, and then was given a copy of Black Lambs and Grey Falcons to devour when I was in England. (When I was on my way home from England, I discovered that my friends there had also been reading Fermor's books! More coincidences.) Now I am going through Rebecca West's Black Lamb and Grey Falcon a little at a time. I usually prefer to devour books in one sitting and gorge myself, but West's book is entirely too rich for that. It requires a more tempered approach.

I don't know if I'll ever get to the Balkans, my travel list is so long and I'm not nearly finished with the places I've already visited and want to return to. But my interest is definitely deepening, not waning, as I learn more.

So, why am I writing this? Because I love the idea of travel as a political act. I hate politics but I don't want to because political action and involvement is so important. For the past several years I've been searching for ways to be more political without getting pissed off or hating what I'm spending my time doing. This book has some wonderful ideas that I will be exploring, and probably blogging about, further. As is my usual habit with certain types of nonfiction books, I read the introduction and the conclusion first. I was very happy to find some real, practical suggestions for how each of us can act politically through and because of our travels. I am often disappointed in books about political topics that have no real suggestions for action. This book did not disappoint me. I looking forward to reading the rest, and re-reading it, soon.

I have also, for several years, had the topic of knitting as a political act lurking under, and bubbling up to, the surface of my consciousness. My Subversive Knitting blog has been silent for a couple of years now, but I have not abandoned it. I still think it's something I will eventually end up returning to sooner or later.