Greetings and welcome to Knitunes, a blog about my love of music and knitting. Kidding! This is still the old familiar Quiltunes, with a little detour to my love of knitting.
In the busted sewer pipe that is our current news cycle, you may have missed a big story this spring (to crafters, at least): the downfall of the Joann. Fabrics chain. This news was met in the online quilting world with both celebration and despair. Because in our divided climate everything is political, the reaction to this bankruptcy was no different. On the yay side were folks noting that the chain sold a lot of disposable junk and that its existence hurt small businesses. On the boo side were folks proclaiming the affordability and selection were irreplaceable. And so how does Quiltunes feel about wading into this fraught topic? I’m on the boo side here. Although the bulk of my spending goes to support local businesses as often as possible, losing a Joann store in your community is impactful. Yes, the store drove me absolutely bonkers with their coupon schemes and the egregious amount of clutter and overwhelming choices, not to mention that odd smell (candles? fake flowers?), but and this is a huge BUT, whenever I needed something sewing related, I could always pop in and find it. Always. What I needed were random items like handbag hardware or odd interfacing, items that are not often stocked at local speciality quilt stores. A small quilting store can never have the breadth of inventory that a big box store does; it is simply not feasible to carry all of the things. And once you start sewing, you realize there are so many little things. Joann also had shops in small to mid-sized cities where other retailers did not, so this loss is even more impactful to crafters in those communities, like mine. For most big city dwellers, there are other shopping options available— including awesome reuse stores and large guilds that hold swaps. Left without a Joann, you are either forced to shop at that other craft behemoth (that has its own set of issues), or order online, which has an environmental impact. And wait time. Neither of these options are great for crafters. Lastly, hardworking people losing their jobs should never be cause for celebration.
I stopped by my local Joann a mere 3 days before the finale to scope out the situation and search for last minute scores. It was nuts inside and also eerie. To see a place that was once so jam packed with stuff so empty was a surprise. The vibe in the store could best be described as “a wet blanket.” Despite the bareness and sadness, I managed to procure some last minute things. My final grand total at the register was literally laughable, with embroidery thread 3 cents a skien, and cotton yarn less than a dollar. While I waited in line, I chatted it up with fellow folks who shared just how much they were going to miss the store and their fond memories of taking kids, and later grandkids, to the store for craft making supplies. Cost is something that came up a lot in our conversations. We were in line for a solid 20 minutes, so we got to know one another! Yarn that is $15 (or more) a skien, is not an option for most folks learning a craft. And what I also realized is that without a craft store readily available, people (especially younger ones) are going to have less opportunities to be creative. In an ideal world, there should be less obstacles for creative folks, not more. It’s really that simple and that is why I think the closing of Joann is a shame.
I learned to knit two decades ago and would define it as my first craft love. I’ve always been creative and interested in making, but knitting really boosted my love of the handmade. My great grandmother was a prolific knitter and crocheter and her afghans still provide comfort to many family members. I learned to knit through classes at local yarn shops and enjoyed some great knitting time with friends during the 2005-ish knitting renaissance. In all of my years of knitting, I have stayed comfortably (probably too much so) in the flat realm: scarves, blankets, dishcloths. And now I want to make it all, shape be damned! Once I picked up my needles again, I remembered just how satisfying, and centering, knitting is. Also portable. I can take my knitting anywhere and have been known to knit in sports bars while my friends watched the Broncos play. (Sorry, Staci!) I can knit in waiting rooms or at the campground, no power needed. Knitting with my coffee has transformed my mornings, providing deep, meditative calm before work, before screens, before things baring bad news and disappointment and deadlines.
Knitting taps into an almost primal calming mechanism for me. Is it because some form of knitting has existed since the dawn of our species and that in practicing the art, you are reigniting your human essence? Whoa, I know, I know. But in all seriousness, there has to be some connection between why this ancient practice is so soothing. It is akin to relaxing by, and watching the flame of, a campfire or foraging for mushrooms. It is a disconnect from our daily busyness and a connection with what was once essential.
In my musical world knitting is my Nirvana, and by that I mean the band that changed everything for me. Even as a youngster I loved music, especially The Beatles and The Beach Boys. A favorite pastime was to lounge on the floor or couch in my pjs with an album on. Which is still a beloved leisure activity for me. And then I heard Nirvana. And then I heard Nirvana! Suddenly music was so much more rich, so much more than just the songs I knew all the words to, music that wasn’t something my parents liked. Music became expansive and mysterious and profound. There was so much energy, so much emotion and so much depth. Nirvana led me down the musical rabbit hole; they allowed me to discover music. It may seem odd to say that Nirvana led me to John Coltrane, The Meters, Bjork and Gillian Welch, but before Nirvana, I was comfortable in my listening bubble. After Nirvana, I was suddenly thrust into this whole other world of music that challenged my way of thinking and living. Seriously! I became a much more open and curious person about music and art. And as a middle schooler, that was something I very much needed and appreciated. These days when I hear Nirvana, I am still transported back to that teen with her jaw on the ground and her mind expanding beyond the confines of her suburban bedroom. Knitting is the same. Without my first love of knitting, I am not sure that I would have become as interested in textile arts and quilting. Knitting paved the way for the creative life I lead today, just as Nirvana opened my ears all those years ago.
Last but not least, the blanket. This is a gift for my beloved sister out of my final Joann’s purchase, for the unreal cost of about $5. (8 skeins at around 60 cents apiece.) I will openly brag here that I have the greatest sibling in the known — and unknown — universes. I love being her sister and that I got to spend time making this blanket for her. The pattern is “Tumbling Blocks” by Purl Soho (one of the greatest online resources for patterns, IMO) which provided the perfect balance of challenge and zone out stitching. Quilters will recognize the tumbling blocks pattern as a very popular quilt design, too. I enjoyed the pattern so much, that I am now stitching one for up myself in a golden yellow, also out of Joann closeout yarn. Please take a moment to admire my new yarn bowl custom-made by local Yakima, WA potter Lowell Keech. I am smitten with the design and am grateful to have such a beautiful vessel cradle my yarn. Because art begets art.
So cheers to all of the creatives out there! Making with their hands, hearts and minds in a world of homogenization. Let’s keep on creating and celebrating craft despite the obstacles. By request, I’d love to hear from you readers: what is your Nirvana? What band or record changed everything for you?
Quiltunes 