The Fabric of Reality

Yesterday, I mentioned Jonathan Pageau's work in examining symbols and patterns in creation, and seeking to understand the mystic in the fabric of reality.  (If that sounds a little "woo-ey" hold on to your hats).  I've listened to a bunch of his talks this Lent, and have had much to ponder, but yesterday, I listened to a conversation with Glen Scrivener and Pageau that just about blew my mind.  

It was paradigm-shifting. Imagine for a moment that the fabric of the world--of reality--really is enchanted.  That pattern and referential symbol are part of this fabric of reality and that inhabited behaviors are part of affirming and living out that reality.  I'm explaining it poorly, but I highly recommend listening to the talk--it is an hour, but well worth the time.  I took copious notes while listening, and had to stop the video several times to write down and keep up with what he was saying.  

Today is Holy Friday, and I'm meditating on the Cross, and the fractals that Pageau draws from the particular details about Jesus' death on the cross are really important things to meditate on.  How the Place of the Skull (Golgotha) is the place of Adam's skull, and that Christ's blood flows down into the skull to fill it up with resurrection.  That paradise is a mountain upon which the Tree of Life stood, and that when the curtain of the Temple was torn in two at the moment of Christ's death, it was because He had ascended into the High Place.  By His death, Christ revealed to us the purpose of death: transform that death back into the glory that was in the Garden.  So die on purpose in the sense of self-sacrifice.

Cosmos by Jonathan Pageau; there is a lot to unpack in this image

Self-sacrifice is hard work.  It means setting aside resentment and pride and need for the good of others, both as an action and an attitude.  I find I can set aside myself as an action, but often lack a humble or cheerful attitude about it.  More weeds to dig out of my garden.  It strikes me that this is what Kingsnorth was getting at in the bit I excerpted yesterday.  It isn't fun or exciting to put yourself aside or to consistently practice the embodied habits that enforce our belief.  It goes against our instinct of self-preservation.  But it is the radical task before us, and we are given rituals and sacraments to help us on our way back to God and the garden.

On Birth, Death, & Resurrection

I've been reading Paul Kingsnorth for a while, and appreciate his unique voice.  His substack is well worth the subscription.  He is a recent convert to Orthodox Christianity, from a place of atheism; I find the ways that he writes about our humanity very insightful.  Last week, Kingsnorth was interviewed by Jonathan Pageau, another very interesting Orthodox thinker and artist.  One of Pageau's preoccupations is in reading the symbols and rituals in our culture in the context of re-enchantment, which dovetails nicely with my own interest in the subject. 

Image via Uncut Mountain Supply

What I like about Pageau and Kingsnorth is that while they are clear-eyed about the changes in our world, they do so with a hopeful eye to the future, thinking of the birth of something new to come.  They bear in mind the basic human frailty and weakness in the face of passions.

Kingsnorth writes:

"...the useful work now seems to me to be that outlined by [Joseph] Campbell: to conquer death by birth. ...[T]he correct response to a rootless, lost or broken society is ‘the growing of roots’... Pull up the exhausted old plants if you need to - carefully, now - but if you don’t have some new seed to grow in the bare soil, if you don’t tend it and weed it with love, if you don’t fertilise it and water it and help it grow: well, then your ground will not produce anything good for you. It will choke up with a chaos of thistles and weeds. 

This, in practical terms is, the slow, necessary, sometimes boring work to which I suspect people in our place and time are being called: to build new things, out on the margins. Not to exhaust our souls engaging in a daily war for or against a civilisation that is already gone... To go looking for truth. To light particular little fires - fires fuelled by the eternal things, the great and unchanging truths - and tend their sparks as best we can. To prepare the ground with love for a resurrection of the small, the real and the true.

But first, we are going to have to be crucified." 

~The Faustian Fire, Abbey of Misrule Substack, Paul Kingsnorth, April 28, 2021

Image via Uncut Mountain Supply

It seemed a fitting thing on this day of Mystery: Holy Thursday.  A reminder to set our eyes on the road before us.  This morning we relive the establishment of the Mystical Supper in the Eucharist, and tonight we will go through the Passion with Christ in the Twelve Gospel readings.  Tomorrow, we sit at the foot of the cross and lament while we await the third day resurrection.    

"Today, He who hung the earth upon the waters is suspended upon the tree."~Matins of Holy Thursday

The thing I come to at the end of this Великий пост is that the road is long and I am weak and careworn. 

I am counted amongst the foolish women, forgetting to fill my lamp and missing the feast of the Bridegroom.  I am Simon Peter, declaring my love and then betraying it before the cock crows. I am Gestas, the thief who mocked Christ even as he hung from his own cross.  I am ever Thomas, fighting with my doubts in the face of the Risen Lord.  

Dismas and Gestas, 16th century Kievan icon

But I am also the publican who beat his breast in the corner of the temple, asking God's mercy for his sins.  I am Dismas, the thief on the cross who begged mercy in his final hour.  

I am a lumpen stone on the Sculptor's anvil, and the blows of His hammer can shape me into something better.

Behold, I show you a mystery: We shall not all sleep; but we shall all be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.

For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality.

(1 Corinthians 15:51-53)

Elemental, My Dear Watson

The weather has been all over the place the past few weeks--80s one day, 30s the next, and in a fit of warm weather pique on day last week, I decided it was high time to sew up the two length of rayon challis I've received for birthday gifts in the past couple of years. 

 

I've held on to the fabric because I was waiting for lightning to strike with a pattern, but decided enough already, and made an Emerald.  And promptly made another yesterday.  But that's not what this post is about.  (Don't worry, I'll post those as I have pictures).

I was only planning to make the one dress yesterday, because tomorrow it is supposed to be close to 90 (Oy!  It is only April! Weather, go home; you're drunk).  But as I was finishing up the dress, I remembered a post from a fellow sewist I follow on Instagram, raving about the free Elemental Pencil skirt pattern from Sew House 7.  I had received the pattern myself last week, but filed it away since knit skirts almost never work for me.  

Sometime during the long months of lockdown last year, I bought a small length of French terry in 100% cotton from an independent seller, planning to use it for a Cedar Sweater (it is surprisingly difficult to find all cotton terry).  I never got around to putting the pdf together, and it turned out that this fabric was destined for better things, like an Elemental Pencil skirt!

 

This was probably the fastest garment I've ever made--I finished in just over an hour, including printing and assembling the pdf.  I would have gotten under an hour except I had to unpick stitches at the very beginning when I decided I liked the "wrong" side of the fabric better than the "right" side (and also remembered Lauren using the textured side to great effect on a couple of of her makes).  The elastic waistband construction is very clever and neat, and while I had to follow the instructions quite closely this time, future makes will probably be quicker.  

 This is a good great pattern.  It looks nice, feels great, and I feel very stompy in it.  Win-win.  

Details: The French terry I used had less than the required stretch, so I eliminated the seam allowances on the sides and facing and just zig-zagged the edges together.  I followed the waist band construction as written, using 1.5" Ban-rol elastic.  I burned the edges to keep it from poking out at the edges.  I used about 29" of elastic with a 1/2" overlap in the back.  I'll probably use 30" in the future, but this is fine.

I made a straight size 14 in version 1 to give myself enough room in this less stretchy fabric.  Version two would have been ankle length or more on me.  This one is a good length for the fabric, but I could see making it 3" shorter to hit just below the knee in something slightly lighter.

 

I admit my sew-jo has been missing in action for a long time now, and this make really gave me a boost! 

Talking Tuesday: Kristin Lavransdatter

 

As a kind of Lenten penance project,  I decided I was going to make my way through Kristin Lavransdatter.  There are many of my acquaintance who love this triology for its spiritual depth and beauty; I thought surely I would love it too.  I tried reading it several years ago, but gave up in the first chapter.  It was so slow, so overfull of description of 14th century Norway.  

This Lent, after reading another glowing recommendation in a Substack newsletter, I thought, I must read this book, even if it is a slog.  The first couple of chapters were again exceedingly slow.  Kristin is a seven-year-old child at the beginning, and it was difficult to get into her as a character.  But Sigrid Undset didn't win the Nobel Prize for Literature for nothing.  She carefully weaves in the story of Kristin's parents, Lavrans and Ragnfrid, while we wait for Kristin to mature.  I admit, I was more captivated by their story (and continue to be, if I'm honest).

I'm nearly to the end of Book 2: The Wife, and after 650 densely packed pages, we hit gold.  There are some glimmers at the end of Book 1: The Wreath, as well as threaded through The Wife, mostly from the story of Lavrans and his wife.  Lavrans is an extremely pious and ascetic man, a good man, who provides well for his family and household, is an upstanding member of the community.  He keeps all the fasts of the church year (both in food and marital relations) and drinks only with joy, never sorrow.  Lavrans is oblivious to to his wife's emotional and sensual needs until they have been married 20 years and he learns more about her.  

Lavrans pulls his wife aside at the end of Book 1 to talk to her during the celebration of Kristin's wedding.  Things Are Revealed that shake Lavrans to his core, although he does not show this to his wife, who thinks her revelations mean nothing to him, that she is nothing to him.  She continues to shrivel inside, although she does not show this to anyone.  It is only when Lavrans is an old man, approaching the end, that he and Ragnfrid reach real understanding, emotional connection, and rapprochement.  It is a beautiful thing to read, but also bittersweet, since it came so late in their lives together.  

Kristin, on the other hand, is a train wreck of epic proportions.  It is hard to read all the poor decisions she makes in her life that put her where she is by the end of Book 2, but at the same time, the spiritual revelation she has then is a glorious and beautiful thing.  But again, it comes so late.  

The recurring theme (to my mind at least) is how much we can hurt those closest to us by being willfully blind to our own faults and failings.  It is entirely possible to erect a Potemkin village of a life that shatters in the least wind.  We have a responsibility to the world more generally, but close to home more specifically, to soften our hearts and see our own faults and work to overcome them (and in a Christian context, we do this with God's help and the sacraments He gave us, including confession and repentance).  

O Lord and Master of my life, take from me the spirit of sloth, despondency, lust for power and idle talk.

But grant unto me, Thy servant, a spirit of purity, humility, patience and love.

Yea, O Lord and King, grant me to see my own faults and not to condemn my brother. 

For blessed art Thou unto the ages of ages. Amen.

~The Prayer of St. Ephrem the Syrian, prayed daily during Orthodox Lent.

I suppose another theme is that it is never too late to try to put things right and start again.  Lavrans goes to his grave having made peace with the world and his wife.  Kristin has seven sons and is married a long time before she really understands how she has wronged her husband, but her revelation brings her to her knees.  I'm curious to see where this new understanding will take her in Book 3: The Cross, as she becomes an old woman.

Ordinary Love

At the end of March, I watched an excellent film, Ordinary Love, starring Liam Neeson and Lesley Manville.  (Manville will be a familiar face to anyone who watches British film or television regularly). 

As the title suggests, the story follows an ordinary couple through a year of difficulty.  Tom and Joan are empty nesters living in Ireland.  They have a nice relationship, have endured a terrible tragedy in the past, but have learned to live with the pain of it.  They mostly get along with a sense of dry humor and affection, but have their petty squabbles just like everyone else.  I appreciated the "realness" of their relationship, for lack of a better term.  The film showed the good, the not great, and even the ugly, without flinching. 

 

 And while it has gotten to be trope to say an actor's performance is "brave," both actors really dug deep for this one.  You can feel the longevity and intimacy in their relationship: the ups and downs, and how they've managed to stay together and even enjoy the journey together.  It was a window into a very private space, and the actors portrayed it extremely well.

I also appreciated the depth of this story, and the age of the primary actors.  They are not old or young, but in that long middle age where long term relationships can founder and die.  They tolerate each other's quirks, and even though they are living through a trauma, they still reach for and find each other throughout the ordeal.

 

It's not a fast-paced film, and you have to lean into the silences and the quietness of the story, but what a gift this film is.  I'm still thinking about it, weeks later. 

I'd love to hear from anyone who has seen it--what did you think?

Lilias Day

After a slightly rocky start on combining continental and English knitting, I thoroughly enjoyed working the stranded yoke on my Lilias Day and raced through to the finish line over the weekend (Western Easter, but still mid-Lent for us).  I'm eager to do more stranded knitting!  (And purpose-bought yarn for a Mackworth and a Blaithin-Stripes mashup with the great sale at Webs). And German short rows are brilliant (even if they did end up in the wrong place)!  I'm never doing a wrap and turn again. 

I did worry that blocking might mess things up a bit, so took copious photos before dunking it in the bath.  The body of the sweater relaxed and grew quite a bit more than I was expecting, and I was disappointed with how long it looked.  My torso is short, so even an inch too long looks really unflattering on me.  

My meager attempts to fix the growth resulted in some minor felting on the two pink sections and the yoke was slightly tight across the tops of my shoulders, although it fixed the body length issue.  I clipped some of the longer floats on the blue/green section (the last two lines of floats are epic) which helped release some of the tension.  

The sweater fit, but the white wasn't particularly great on me (it rarely is a good choice with my complexion) and I decided the sweater would be better off living with someone else.  

Thankfully, a friend who is narrower than me loved the sweater when I posted pics of it in progress and finished, and I'm popping it into the post for her in the next few days.  I'm glad it will have a good home!

In the meantime, I loved this palette so much, I decided to make an Evendoon with it instead (continuing to work from my stash), which will suit both my closet and my complexion better.  My son also asked for a sweater, and we were able to cobble together enough yarn that I think I can make him a slightly smaller Evendoon from also-stashed yarn in a palette that suits him. 

I'm watching Shtisel on Netflix (and am kind of obsessed with Hasidic communities at the moment); it is lovely to listen to Hebrew and read subtitles and knit with something not-quite-mindless, but not too hard either.