Thursday, September 15, 2011

Double Happiness

The Chinese character for "double happiness" (literally "joy joy") looks like two people holding hands.

The people are wearing long robes or dresses and TV antennae on their heads. This is how I describe most Chinese characters that I recognize:
1) xue - "study": A student standing on one leg with a headband and three crazy tufts of hair (学)
2) cha - "tea": A house with a cross and fireplace inside and leaves on top of the roof (茶)
3) zhong - "middle": A rectangle sliced down the middle (中)
4) guo - "country": A drawing or painting of roads like a map (国)
5) - "female": A curvaceous person running (女)
6) nan - "male": A person with a big, quartered head and only one arm (男)
7) mei - "beautiful": A caterpillar (美)
This system is probably part of the reason why my knowledge of Chinese writing and ability to learn new characters are quite limited.

At any rate, I bought a "double happiness" pendant a while back, and I have been trying to figure out how to attach it to a heavy chain or beaded necklace without looking weird, and without having to attach it permanently. In this design, the pendant is completely removable.


The necklace is made of three connected strands, which are embellished all the way around, so that the pendant can be removed and the clasp placed at the back of the neck for a plain beaded look. (click to enlarge)


-吴碧芙

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Adventures in Sock Knitting

I never thought I would actually make socks for men's size 13-14. I finished Sock 2 over a three-day weekend trip to Illinois. I knit from the beginning of the gusset to the cuff in two of the three days.

The gusset and leg portions of both socks seemed like they would never end. The magic of knitting socks is the triumph when one finishes the first sock--the success that it fits and looks nice--drives one forward to duplicate the same masterpiece for the other foot.

Knitting the second sock proves that the first sock was not a fluke and brings out the reality that the knitter is capable and that the knitter has skill, instead of a single strike of luck.


Knitting socks is an achievable goal. After telling yourself, "I could never knit a men's size 13-14 sock, let alone two; And how much yarn would that take, anyway?" finishing one of the socks feels like accomplishing the impossible, and beginning work on the second suddenly is within the realm of possibility.

Socks take a long time, and they're tedious at many points. Yet, when I finish a pair of socks, I don't know what to with myself. All tied up in sock knitting is the satisfaction of finishing the first and the anticipation of starting the second. It seems like such a large project (actually two large projects) that it seems like you will never have to think about the project that will come after. Until both socks are done too soon. I must say, I'm feeling ambivalent.

(And although I had 4 skeins of this yarn, it only took 2.5 skeins, with just enough left over for a "hers" pair that matches.)

-吴碧芙