My laptop has a cool function called "photo booth." This is my Waterlily Tank, in progress. The yarn is gorgeous, in the colorway called Monet. I started at the bottom hem and am nearing the twelve-inch mark, when the pattern makes its next shift. I've been close to the early stages of headache, and somehow the knitting soothes my hands and my spirit.
Tomorrow afternoon, my writing residency "merges" with an arts conference, and I'm eager to have more interplay between tangible arts (I know the calligrapher Timothy Botts is featured, as is the illustrator Barry Moser) and what writers do. And there will be music by songwriters I admire. And a chance to rub shoulders with the chair of the National Endowment of the Arts. I'm not eager to meet more people and learn more names, though, so I'll be continuing to attempt to lay low, for my own poor extroverted self's sake.
Still, tonight I met a sculptor over dinner and we began to discuss fiber arts, until the rest of our dinner table left us to our own discussion (oops.) I forgot to lay low, as happens, I suppose. I loaned her a spindle and some wool, and she passed me a free ticket to a noted Folk Arts museum in town. Tomorrow.