I’ve been spending lots of time at the computer, mostly related to my job, which makes me less interested in writing a blog entry when I get home, or get up. Last week, Franklin’s 1,0000 Knitters Project came to town for Yarnover, sponsored by the Yarnery, and I was, as described in the guidelines for scheduling a shoot
“One dedicated, assisting staff member. Public shoots can become crowded at times. A numbering system helps to keep things running smoothly. I’ll need at least one person to distribute model releases, give and call numbers, and explain the basics of the project to those who might inquire.”
What this doesn’t say was what a blast it would be. Franklin is charming and kind. I really enjoyed watching him put each knitter at ease as he photographed them. If you get the chance to participate, don’t be shy. It was easy.
The best part was that Franklin’s great sense of humor is not limited to his writing and drawing. We were in a high school classroom, which necessitated rearranging things. This reminded us both of Catholic School Days, when the CCD students who went to gasp, public school, would spend time in our classrooms learning the ropes of Holy Mother Church. It also meant that they, as children do, moved things, took things, and generally interfered with the classroom set up. Imagine the prissy whine on Monday mornings – “Sister, the public schoolers messed up my desk, the public schoolers broke my ruler, the public schoolers took one of my crayons. ” The infractions, real or imagined, seemed egregious. So this was our chance to wreak revenge, and we gleefully took things off the wall and moved desks. Heh-heh, I wish I had heard those Spanish I and II kids on Monday. “Senor, the knitters moved my desk, the knitters took my stuff and put it over here, the knitters didn’t get the flag back properly.” Take that you public schoolers. (We put everything back, really. And I didn’t break a single crayon.)
Franklin got the chance to photograph Lucy Neatby (I was going to say shoot, but that didn’t sound right) who invited us to come paw through her trunk of knitted wonders – and what wonders. I don’t generally care for intarsia but man this stuff was amazing. Fingering weight cotton knitted at about a zillion sts to the inch with extra quadruple zero needles. Only the rigid moral code instilled in us by Catholic school kept us from stealing something. Plus, Lucy was right there with her students. I wanted to go home, throw away all my needles and take up macrame. One of these days I will sign up early enough at something, somewhere, to get into one of Lucy’s classes.