Monday, February 15, 2010
On a Saturday afternoon, I had some time to kill and ended up at Powell's book store in the craft section. As part of my 2010 New Year's resolution to teach myself how to sew, I was looking for Sewing for Dummies. I got a little distracted by the rest of the books in the craft section- books on woodworking and mosaics and other hobbies I can't afford to explore- when Yarn Bombing caught my eye. I pulled the book off of the shelf and started flipping the pages.
After reading and laughing for half an hour, I fell in love with the concept of turning a domesticated craft into an art form. The wheels in my head started turning with all of the possibilities- clothing for statues, cozies for bike racks and fixtures, sweaters for trees. As excited as I was at these prospects, I knew that I had to try it. I had to yarn bomb.
After leaving Powell's, I went to my best friend's house and told her and her mother about my new project and how excited I was. Her mother stood there in the kitchen, with a confused look on her face saying, "well, that's... interesting." She was so wonderfully supportive, even if she didn't fully understand my excitement for knitted graffiti. It was in that moment that I decided she would be my first, ahem, victim.
Yesterday afternoon, a week after learning about yarn bombing, I showed up at my friend's house with the completed tag and pre-threaded yarn. My best friend came outside to help hold the tag in place while I sewed it together, forming a cozy for the top rail of her mother's back porch. We got it done in a few minutes, snapped some pictures and hightailed it.
According to the book, the first tag that a new yarn bomber does should be meaningful to them. I wanted to create something that someone would appreciate. I wanted it to be unique and organic. I wanted it to reflect not only myself, but the beauty of the women who live on the other side of the door. I especially wanted to do something wonderful for the mother of my best friend, both of whom fully support me in every move I make, whether or not they understand it.