craft, fiber arts, tatting

Progress re: shuttle lace technique

Earlier today I had to spend significant time in a waiting room, and…during that time, I learned how to manage over-tatting thread tails. Particularly when beginning a piece of tatting (a.k.a. shuttle lace), this means that I can start without having to tie a knot between two pieces of thread. Knowing this also is the first step to knowing how to join a new piece of thread when I run out. (I still haven’t tried that, yet. One step at a time.)

As mentioned before, I’m using the book Learn to Tat by Janette Baker, though I haven’t looked at the DVD it comes with, yet. (Who has a DVD player?) Because of this — and because of the fact that the relevant illustrations number exactly two (and are not helped by the thread shown being dark green), I’ve been working a bit by trial-and-error when following the instructions.

From working with beads and self-needles (thread hardened with glue), after my first couple of rough attempts at this (one or two weeks ago, I think), I took it upon myself to find and use a needle for the end of the thread I needed to bury. (This is not a step covered in the book.) Earlier I was using a needle with a sharp tip, but today I was able to get one with a rounded end, which shouldn’t split the cotton (I’m using DMC #5 perle cotton) as easily. It also, for some reason, fits into (and comes out of) a pincushion fine, which is unexpected.

So the secret of successfully over-tatting a thread tail is apparently to run the thread tail through the loop one is closing, in the exact same orientation as the shuttle thread. I don’t know if anyone will know what I’m saying by that, but basically you just run the thread tail exactly in parallel to the thread that’s already going through the flipped half-hitch. Although it seems like it might be more secure to run it through that loop so that the threads scissor closed around both sides of the loop, this is going to make a bumpy tight knot that doesn’t look, or feel, all that great.

When I first started, I was putting the thread through any which way, which meant that some of my knots were bumpy, and some were smooth. It took me a little while to reason out what was going on, which I theorized while trying to sleep one night. Today I tested it in full. I was right.

I did get a pincushion which ties to the wrist a few days ago, but with this method, it’s easy to just lay the thread with the needle on it to the side, over the back of the non-dominant hand. When the half-hitch has been tied and flipped, then just pull the needle forward over the hand, align it through the knot exactly in parallel with the shuttle thread, pull it gently through, and close the loop over both threads. Then replace the needle over the back of the non-dominant hand. Easy.

It should still allow the ring (if one is making a ring) to slide properly. It should also show that characteristic Lark’s Head Knot look…though I think a Lark’s Head Knot is actually a different thing than a Double Stitch, in tatting.

I had skipped over most of this lesson (Number 5, I think), in favor of getting to the Josephine Knot edging. Impatient. But today I was okay with going back and re-trying the join. And it worked!

I’m still having some issues with remembering all the steps — like snugging up the Chain stitches before starting a new Ring; or which shuttle to use when, when using a two-shuttle technique; or the difference between holding the thread for a Ring (all the way around the hand) as versus for a Chain (only over the top of the fingers), but I’m getting there!

And yes, this is something not taught in New Tatting. In New Tatting, they tell you to tie a knot to join a new thread, and then glue down the thread tails.

(no glue, please) It’s probably the reason why my local lace supply store does not sell that book.

Anyhow, I should get going. I just felt the urge to record this before I forgot it. It seems relatively advanced, but then, everything new in tatting seems relatively advanced. :)

craft, fiber arts, LIS, tatting, work

History: mud and sapphires

Some time has passed. I know I haven’t touched the computer for two days…likely due to the fact that it’s associated for me, now, with work. And…things I don’t want to do, now that I think of getting back to my Library of Congress cataloging work. Ordinarily, I would take this work as something to keep me busy instead of bored…but I’ve gotten to the point where I’m not sure at all that I want to work as a Cataloger in an Academic Library setting.

Cataloging has a lot of arbitrary rules that serve to make catalog entries uniform (which is essential if we are to find things)…the thing is, they’ve been accumulating and building on each other for a couple of centuries, and the difficulty in changing them to keep up with the times is evident in what remains of the old structures.

Having done this work, I can clearly see why I shifted my focus to Digital Services: there’s less of this traditional backlog of rules, to deal with. There is also, though, a much higher need for the use of logic.

The thing with coding is that it shares the same high attention to detail as is required of a cataloger…it just seems from my perspective that — in coding — there are actual reasons for things to be the way they are. If things aren’t formatted a certain way, the computer can’t make sense of it.

For some reason, I’m willing to adapt to a computer’s constrictions, moreso than I am to history’s. I mean…the computer has no choice. It was built the way it was, without having a say in it. History always has had choices.

And at this point, I can kind of see how the mode of thinking behind, “progressivism,” could work…although in the past, I’ve rejected the term “progressive” as it applies to myself. This is because nothing guarantees that society will move forward to a better future. It can, but that doesn’t mean it will become better, or that it is becoming better. As a mirror to this, that doesn’t mean that all societies before ours, were worse than ours (or that First World countries are the so-called pinnacle of Social Darwinism [I’m going to withhold my views on the latter, for now]); or that things now are worse than they’ve ever been (which are both familiar nightmares to some people I’ve known).

What I try and remember is that people in each era (I assume) are trying to do the best they can, with the world, technology, information, and concepts they have. Now, that’s a big assumption. But I try (and I’m trying really hard right now) not to forget the human factor: that in each time, people confront constrictions, and find ways to exist despite them.

Anyhow, learning Library of Congress Classification has been like stepping backwards in time, and not in a fun way. It seriously feels like I spent a bunch of money for this class, only to learn that I don’t want to do the work (or at least, that I don’t want to do the work, full-time).

Do I want to become a Web Developer? I still don’t know about that: I’ll have to try harder and involve myself, first. But at least, I’ll know one more thing I don’t want to do, as I’ll have had some experience with it. If I hadn’t taken this LCC class, I wouldn’t know how much I don’t want to do it, and how much I should maybe just forget about it, for the short term.

Gah.

There’s a lot of stuff I’m not mentioning, right now. Most of it is political. Some of it does make me wish that I could believe in a good-natured Deity, but seeing evidence of the activity of hatred and stupidity… Declaring something as good also means declaring its opposite, or at least, the state of the absence of goodness (or so my readings in Philosophical Daoism would suggest).

And labeling the absence of goodness isn’t really effective at all, in coming to peaceful resolution and coexistence with someone who is seen to be exhibiting a lack of goodness. Because of this, it basically lines the road to coexistence with land mines.

Of course, the other person has likely had no input into what one considers “good” or not, so one big question is whether they can even be held accountable to standards they had no say in defining (although also, of course, they would likely make the definition of “not good” to be whatever they, themselves, were not — should they be given a say. That begs the question of whether we can trust evil people to define goodness). I have a sense, though, that I’m getting into legal philosophy here, so I’ll stop.

In any case…I’ve been getting tired of this. Tired of a lot of things, actually. There’s the political stuff plus the work stuff plus the study stuff plus the injury stuff plus the illness stuff — which in my case does encompass mood symptoms, which can then make me vulnerable to physical illness.

One of the things I have been working on, recently, is tatting lace…which is relatively calming (which is probably why people did it, before)…it kind of takes up a lot of mental capacity that would otherwise be spent worrying. This is one of those historical crafts that I’ve taken interest in — which, apparently, is a new thing again to people in my generation. It kind of makes me wonder if I were on the front line of fashion as regards retro designs and fiber art, and didn’t know it. (Usually, I’m not an early adopter.)

I’ve figured out how to make each individual stitch, though I’m not sure it will make sense if I explain it in words. If I recorded video, it would be different. I just remember the first book I read on it, which was talking about making half-hitches and flipping them onto the opposite cord (you tug the working cord and relax the other cord, and the half-hitch is transferred to the relaxed cord), and I’m thinking to myself, “okay, first you make a half-hitch — then you reverse it — why would you do that???”

It makes more sense when you do it, though I’m still not sure how much sense that is.

I don’t have photos at the moment. I’m not sure if I’ve given up on that, or not. :) The thing is, when you do tatting right, it basically looks exactly like the photos of all the samples that you’ve seen.

Is that a good thing? I’m not sure…