I don't understand how lace is made, but looking at the bobbins and pins and patterns … listen buddy I know math when I see it. This is A Math Thing. Obviously.
Right away I want to know:
Can I encode information in lace?
How much of an expert must one be to make your own patterns?
What about the creation of surfaces?
Knitting is more accessible, and people have been exploring math with knitting forever.
But what possibilities does lace offer?
What is the theory of lace?
An excerpt from Mathematics Magazine
Vol. 91, No. 4 (October 2018), pp. 307-309
Shows I'm hardly the first person to muse about this. Need to get my hands on the rest of this article, obviously.
Hey, tell me something you like about your own writing/art/whatever you make! Something you're good at, something you enjoy doing, or even just "I'm proud that I work on it"!
I'll start: I'm good at sticking the landing. I have a lot of punchy ending lines that feel satisfying to reread.
(That's why I write so many oneshots: I get to write more endings that way...)
Every skill you learn, everything you MAKE, is stairs. You learn one skill and then another and then a third and every larger skill - drawing or painting or sewing or crochet or 3D printing or writing - is made of those steps, like a stair.
Talent is being able to learn some of those steps more easily. And of course sometimes there are barriers - I'm a wheelchair user and there is no ramp to pole vaulting - but it's so important that you remember that's it STEPS.
Especially if you're neurodivergent, because a lot of us have executive dysfunction, which can really fuck up your ability to turn stairs into steps, mentally. And then when you say you can't draw, what you actually mean is you can't climb a flight of stairs in one step.
Sometimes the stairs are in the Goblin King's domain and the way you get from one step to another is a bit different - or sometimes it's just hard to make out what the next step is. But you're building! And similarly, some of your works are just steps, instead of finished stairs on their own. That's okay!!! That's when you tap their imaginary shoulders with your imaginary sword and declare them to be Just A Sketch After All. You're learning how to build the next step, even if you end up tearing it down and starting over.
And it's all like that! Every single project is a flight of stairs! When I started painting with watercolours I didn't know how to layer things or how to blend colours that were wet. But now I know I start a painting and the process of painting is ALSO steps.
It lets you be a little bit more patient with yourself. And it lets you realise that:
A) if you can't immediately skip a bunch of the steps because of talent, doesn't mean you can't build the steps one at a time, and
B) if you CAN skip a bunch of the steps, doesn't mean there's something wrong if you can't skip them all.
I have a huge number of skills. I'm not bragging - I'm autistic and ADHD and I'm like House except my puzzles are how to make stuff (and I work hard not to be an arsehole about it). People always tell me I'm talented. I'm not. Talent means very little or nothing to me, because it's not something you choose or make happen. It's like saying I have brown hair - completely neutral.
What I have instead is hyperfocus, and special interests, and the luxury of access to a community makerspace. I'm in an ideal situation to build stairs.
You can build one flight. It can be crooked, it can be a loop de loop, the stairs can be anything you need them to be. You're the only one who ever has to go up them.
But next time you look at a flight of stairs you've built, or even a stepladder (my daughter would say, "you never knew your real ladder")... And you think it's terrible... Remember that usually means you haven't finished building all the steps yet.
My kickstarter for The Beekeeper's picnic (cosy point and click game featuring a retired Sherlock Holmes) has the unusual reward of being able to buy the game's code, hand bound into a book!
But how?! Enjoy this little vlog of me making the interior of the book!
(This is definitely not supposed to teach you to bookbind, by the way. For that, try DAS bookbinding!)
[ID: Three images; top right, several quilted pieces are laid out, which in the top left image have been sewn together to make a bag lined with fabric covered in camping-themed images. Bottom image is a large front view showing the finished bag; the fabric patchwork contains dachshunds, California Flag bears, and on the sides, dinosaur skeletons, with more camping fabric for the strap. There is a heart stitched onto the front, a Chicago Ornithological Society patch on the flap, and two buttons that look like clock faces, which hold the flap shut with elastic loop closures.]
The sewing project I referenced recently is nearly complete! It's a toddler-sized messenger bag with loop closures friendly to little fingers for my baby niece U, daughter of my brother-from-another-mother R. U will be two years old this July, although the gift is for when I see her this April.
I was sad to learn in a recent conversation with R that he and his wife Q, who I liked very much, are divorcing. I can't say I was entirely surprised; I love R but both he and Q are strong personalities and they've been dealing with a lot, separately and as a couple. Baby U is young enough, and her parents both self-aware enough, that it's been as easy on her as it can possibly be, but it's still a big upheaval for a tiny child and I thought she might like to have a little bag made just for her, for treasures or a stuffed toy or similar.
Besides, messenger bags are the one "fashion" thing I'm into, and as the Messenger Bag Uncle I have to make sure she learns early how fantastic they are.