London: Graffiti knitting confessional
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 the whinging and whining of my backpack and boots (quiet in there!) I thought I better make myself comfortable in my city. Comfortable comes in the form of finding my constantly moving littlest hobo of a brain something to do. So I...
Read MoreLondon: Pandora the pretty in pork piglet
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 sour bretheren. Eating something you once knit a jumper for takes a guilt mastery that I have become shamefully skilled at. Nowadays I munch bacon butties without a thought for my porcine pal. Until...
Read MoreLondon: The Fourth Plinth: “Knitting girl! Knitting girl!”
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.
Read MoreLondon Guerilla Knitting: “My yarn is as bad ass as your spray can.”
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 cathedral, pockets full of stocking stitch and fat tapestry needles, on the lookout for ‘the filth’ patrolling the historic building front, while the American queen of knitting...
Read MoreLondon: Pretty in Pork
Her name was Pickles. She was a week-old piglet. A piglet with a problem. Pickles needed to be woolly. A tall order for a small pig. And that was where I came in. The lovely people at Wildside contacted me through S&B London for a little bit of pig-warming help. Wildside are a London-based family-run image licensing company who fill their home with tiny beasts (so the animals feel at home in the photo studio). Their aim to is bring the cute to the camera, and their images are used for...
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