I know how to do an overwhelming number of crafts, and enjoy doing them.
I rarely finish a project.
These two statements are not necessarily related in a causal way, but I find their juxtaposition irksome (especially since I then guilt-trip myself about the waste, as WELL as not getting the "I'M DONE!!" shot in my ego's arm).
I'm getting better about it, though. Partly by noticing things which make me more or less likely to finish a project, and trying to design them out from the get-go. Because I'm an exhibitionist with a livejournal, Im going to put them here; feel free to comment, or talk about your own stumbling-blocks.
The following list is structured Problem/Solution, though that was probably obvious; it's also knitting-centric, as that's what I've been thinking about most lately. Note: this is not about technique (which is a sled dog of entirely a different color), merely some meta-thoughts.
- If I run out of yarn, it then takes at least three months to get to an appropriate store to buy more. And then the 'more' ends up being not-enough; lather, rinse, repeat.
Solution: Overbuy. No, seriously. At least 8% excess, and then more than that. Rounded up to the nearest skein. Extra yarn can always be used in scrap afghans (another lovely strategy for not running out -- though now I've made enough that I'm low on 'scrap' lengths!). Yes, this causes a problem if you use expensive yarn. Which is why I don't, generally ...
- If a project requires being sewn together, add at least 8 months to the finishing time. For some reason I can get it done to the 'sew' stage and then it just starts sliding off my queue. See also 'burying loose yarn ends' for a variant of the same problem.
Solution: Before starting a project, examine it to figure out how best to eliminate seams. I just started a sweater in the round that was written as two almost-identical pieces for back and front. There was no reason whatsoever it couldn't have been done in the round to start with, except that Knitter's Magazine almost never gives you in-the-round sweater patterns. Why? No idea. I love knitting in the round. But then, the conversion was simple, whereas converting the other way (if I preferred flat knitting) would be a pain, so maybe that's why they do it. When we get to the sleeves, I'm going to see if I can't pick up stitches in the armhole, or maybe cast off onto the armhole, instead of having to sew 'em on later, for the same reason. As to ends, I've come up with alllll kinds of innovative ways to bury ends AS I GO, again to avoid the pileup of tasks at the end of the project.
- If it's too simple to knit (and not really-short), I get bored and set it aside to do more adventurous things.
Solution: Make sure there's something involved that makes it not braindead-to-knit: a neat all-over texture pattern stitch, or frequent small finished sections as in entrelac. Actually, entrelac has totally saved me when it comes to scrap afghans[1]>. There either has to be something I need to mildly pay attention to (so I don't screw it up), or frequent little 'YAY finished!' happy-moments to keep me motivated.
- If it's too complicated to knit and makes my brain hurt, I can only knit it when I'm REALLY REALLY COMPETENT, which means the vast majority of my knitting-in-front-of-TV-or-on-the-bus-time has nothing to fill it.
Solution: Make sure I'm not constantly having to count (stitch markers RULE) or calculate, and rewrite the pattern out neatly so it's VERY easy to follow. Better yet, distill the pattern to an algorithm that can be iterated from memory (as in, "Let z1 = c + z^2. Let z2 = c + z^2. Etc. Repeat in pattern until the value stored in z(n) = 300, then change to next algorithm). I LIKE algorithmic knitting (YMMV). If, however, I'm constantly having to improvise, invent, and do calculus in my head to complete the item, it ain't never a'gonna be completed.
- If it's ugly/oddfitting/weird colors I won't ever want to OWN the finished object.
Solution: There are two solutions to this: knit to order/as a gift, or be VERY CAREFUL in laying out the project. I've accidentally made things U/OF/WC soooo many times. The first solution, however, works very, very well for me: I had all the fun of making a given object, and then I *don't have to keep it* or figure out where to store it! Yaaaaaaay! Win-win! Of course, then if I hit a stopping-place for one of the other reasons, I'm screwing over whoever it was intended for (sorry, educk. Sorry, dormouse_in_tea. You guys will, uhm, be getting your sweaters ... sometime?), which is its own guilt.
- Getting halfway through the pattern and suddenly realizing none of this makes any sense.
Solution: This is why one carefully reads through a pattern several times, and maybe even rewrites it out in one's own personal knitting idiolect, before one begins to knit more than a gauge swatch. And if one continues to tell oneself to do this in arch third person, one might actually remember to DO it regularly ...
- I knit weird [2], because I'm self-taught. This means that many particularly detailed texture-stitch patterns turn to TOTAL GIBBERISH in terms of telling me what I'm meant to do with the yarn to achieve my goal, especially if it involves twisting stitches, or certain kinds of increases or decreases.
Solution: Sometimes careful pattern-reading and rewriting will solve this, along with obsessive swatching, but if the pattern is buried in the garment pattern (instead of put aside in a "Here's how you do the overall pattern we're not going to explain again:" section), it can sometimes be insoluble.
Footnotes
- Entrelac scrap afghans First off, entrelac is a technique where you knit a little ten-stitches-by-twenty-rows stockinette square, get to the end of the last row, cast on another ten stitches, and make ANOTHER little square, until you have a row of little squares attached to your needle by their top edges, at which point you turn, pick up stitches along the right edge of your last square, graft in the stitches remaining from the top edge of the last-but-one, and continue therefrom. Makes a checkerboard kind of thing.
Especially if you do the squares with little tiny balls of leftover yarn, just joining in another bit when you run out, and every two or three rows do a solid-color row (that matches the border you put on it at the end to tie it all together). It's like strip quilting, only with knitting needles. SO much fun. Also useful. And as soon as I get all the ends buried on it, nrivkis, I swear you're getting the one I was making for your adorable son ...
- I knit weird No, seriously, and getting weirder.
First off, I knit Continental, which is regarded as weird here in the US to start with. Second, I purl Continental TOO, only apparently I do it inside-out, because it's just easier that way. This means when I knit back across a row, I pay MUCH more attention to which leg of a stitch-loop is closer to or farther from the point of my needle than which leg is towards my body or on the other side of the needle from my body. 'Front leg' and 'back leg' are terms which are nigh-meaningless to me in modern patterns, because God alone knows which of the two definitions they're USING to mean 'front' and 'back'. Since, in the One True Way That Anyone Knits, there-is-only-one-definition. Grr.
Secondly, for the most part I now knit back and forth without turning the work. Like a typewriter. I love going to knit-ins and doing this and waiting to see how long it takes people to notice and look at me like I'm a freak. :-> I taught myself to do it when I began my entrelac-scrap-afghan obsession (since turning the work EVERY TEN STITCHES is six kinds of pain in the ass, esp. if you're doing garter and can't remember which is the Right Side anymore), and then found it sufficiently useful to maintain as a technique. It does mean I have to reverse-engineer out ws-and-rs-native bits from pattern instructions, though.
Third and more: I like to screw around with cast-ons and cast-offs, since they're USEFUL and fun, but then that can complicate my life later. See also pattern, sizing, and fine-tuning shape while in the middle of knitting it, without taking notes. Ok, yes, masochist. Also, many knitting patterns are written in ways that are *easy to write down*, not in ways that *explain well what you are doing*.