Lacey Prayer Shawl

Last week was our Knitting Guild’s first meeting of the new year. As is per their custom, it was time to show off projects which encompassed the theme of 2009: Lace. They had two categories for entry — Novice and Experienced.

“Do they mean our knitting skills in general or are they referring to lace experience?,” I whispered to Suz.

“Lace experience,” she answered.

We both submitted our entries into the Novice category and to my surprise, out of the 80-90 members of the guild, only 30 women participated. I assumed there would be more as Lace was quite the popular technique to learn last year.

Once all the entries were on display it was time for the vote. Neither Suz or I won, but we weren’t expecting to as there were some amazingly GORGEOUS lace creations. Some were very intricate, others used bold displays of colour, and the Novice piece which won was a blanket with pineapples on it. The Experienced winner was a luscious brown lace shawl with beadwork. Stunning.

Finally, they also offered a drawing to those who participated. They wanted folks to feel they had a chance to win something. Three drawings, three prizes. Guess who won the third and final prize? Yup! I was beyond stunned as I approached the front of the room to unwrap the last gift. Out of the tissue paper I pulled out a skein of scrumptious sea green mohair yarn and a scarf lace pattern called “Fallen Feathers”. How perfect! *laughs*

My prayer shawl in full length is roughly 5′ – 5′.5″ feet long.

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Close up of the intricacy.

Even closer, and crappier, shot of the draping effect of the shawl.

All that is left to do is attach tassels and it will be ready for a ritual or festival.

My medicine

Not much to blog about today as it was fairly uneventful. So instead, I shall present to you a picture of a knitting project I completed a while back.

Roughly a month or two ago, I purchased some recycled yarn at Powell’s Books. It was stranded together by old Hindu saris and Tibetan robes. The colours put a kaleidoscope to shame and I desperately wanted to knit something out of it. The end product — a new medicine bag.

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My medicine bag is very personal as it has evolved with me over the past decade and change. But never once have I had the skills or the know-how to make one. All past pouches were bought at new agey stores or at authentic Native American Powwows. The colours I chose to knit for this one are deliberate, as is the charm hanging from the flap. That charm was gifted to me ages ago by a very dear friend who told me, “This is one of the rock drawings found on the Columbia Gorge. She was a Native American Chief and her name was She Who Watches. When I saw it, I knew it was meant for you.” This was before years of magickal and spiritual studies and, gosh darn it, he nailed it before I knew my Self.