Usually when you title a blog post with a question, it implies that that question will be answered and perhaps remedied, rather than contemplated at length, but I can’t make such a promise in this instance.
My interest in blogging certainly waxes and wanes, both here and on my regular blog. I have a plethora of “life excuses,” including another long trip to Italy in October and November that I forgot to mention, crazy lots of stuff going on at work, and all kinds of illnesses ranging from bronchitis with borderline pneumonia (which almost prevented that Italy trip) and my current malady, swine flu. Bleh.
This blog, unlike my everyday blog or my non-sequitor Twitter and Facebook updates, is so focused in its subject that if I don’t have something specific to say about knitting or crafts, I tend not to say it.
More to the point, the way I “say” things here is largely through photography. It’s not that the words are just spacers between photos – I care a lot about those too – but I am not likely to write about a project if I don’t have photos.
(People who read a lot of knitting blogs are probably all “Ha, photography, that old chestnut!”)
I used to live in a light-filled apartment, with a photographer. It’s not that he shot my knits for me (at least not without some begging), but our whole apartment was set up in a way that was conducive to shooting (along with painting). We had white counter-tops and white windowsills, white desktops, off-white curtains and white walls that wouldn’t distort colors, and plenty of fill lamps and photography stuff that would block out the clutter or shadows or what have you. If I needed to take modeled shots, I lived in Brooklyn and was never shy for a backdrop.
Now I am living in my parents’ house, where there is very little consistent light. Every room is a different color, and there are all kinds of furniture and decorations (lovely stuff, of course). You’d think this would make for easier shooting, since it should be more interesting (and unlike our apartment, it’s usually very clean), but I struggle to find anywhere that doesn’t overpower the knits themselves with pattern and texture. More often than not, when I am shooting my knitting projects, I find myself laying them out on a large sheet of drawing paper on my bed or resorting to the top of the washing machine, to get a neutral background.
It should have been easier in the summer, since my parents have a truly lovely garden, but I struggled with boats, coolers, neighboring houses, and so forth always intruding in the background. And while my mother is patient and a very talented photographer, she doesn’t seem to understand, the way my ex-boyfriend did, that sometimes I need a couple dozen photos to get one where I don’t look agonizingly awkward and uncomfortable.
That said, I haven’t fully sorted out the photography situation, but I will at least make some attempts soon. I have quite a growing pile of FOs, which I’ve been mentioning since the spring, and I’m either lacking proper photos or am fairly dismally unhappy with those that I have. But I’m going to work on them and try to get back in the habit of posting more frequently.
I’m really looking forward to it.