The final part in my tale of book worm dream and wrestling with the Grim Reaper: We last left me facing off against the Big Casino (my affectionate term for the evil cancer I was battling) with the desire to pick up a pair of knitting needles. (If you missed it read Part One first) […]
Here’s where the phrase ‘Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.’ echoes loudly through my life.
In the screaming face of all that horror I did what any girl in peril would do. I learned to knit.
Roll up! Roll up! Ladies and gents of London, come and see the woolly wonders of London and marvel at your very own city turned knit. Come one, come all to the
Stitch London Spectacular Purled-Pigeon-Perched Book Launch
Cor blimey, guvnor! Would you Adam and Eve it! I’ve only gone and written my first ever knitting pattern book and it’s packed to the rafters with loads of bloomin’ luvly London! Ahem… Beginnings: a Pigeon lands Stitch London the book fluttered into my brain like a manky one-legged Trafalgar Square pigeon when I first […]
Stand by for a Snoopy dance, folks. The UK edition of my Knit the City book has been released into the wild! Woo hoo! Here’s the shiny cover, featuring everybody’s favourite handsome squid: This Friday is the official Knit the City Gargantuan Gosh Book Launch at the rather fantabulous Gosh Comics. Join me and the […]
Then Tate Britain invited me to graffiti knit at their Tate Late event. What better way to honour my street art heroes than to shove them stitchwise into one of London’s most well-respected art museums? And so my Stitched Street Art Salute was cast on.
Still in London. It seems that despite all my best intentions to get in, get out, and get back on the road, I am going to be in London for a bit longer than I planned. The apes, the tigers, the Great Wall, and Grand Canyon will have to wait a bit longer. So despite […]
Who can resist the smell of frying bacon wafting up the stairs and into your sleep on a sunday morning? Well, probably not me. I have to say, however, that I ever since meeting Pickles the tiny porker back in January I’ve felt a little guilty for snacking on the flesh of her sweet and […]
Yesterday morning I was art. It was all the fault of Mr Antony Gormley, whose cast-iron sculptures scared the bejesus out of half of London in 2007 by peering down from South Bank rooftops like rusty angels of death.
Guerilla knitting. Street art that sings the same yarn-flavoured tune I do. Always had vague fluffy plans of releasing my knits into the city I am in all kinds of love with. Always admired those who have done it before me. Never really dreamed I would be standing nervously in the shadow of St Paul’s […]