Field Note: At the Turn
Autumn doesn't arrive in Wyoming all at once. Sometimes it's a colder morning, a change in the light, or a little red where there wasn't red before.
Continue readingAutumn doesn't arrive in Wyoming all at once. Sometimes it's a colder morning, a change in the light, or a little red where there wasn't red before.
Continue readingSome greens arrive with spring and disappear almost as quickly. Others seem to have always been there—in pine needles, lichen, weathered landscapes, and the quiet colors we learn to live with.
Continue readingSomewhere over Nebraska, three rows of crochet had to come out. The stitches were wrong, the counting had gone sideways—and somehow, there was still serenity in starting again.
Continue readingA soft, sun-bleached gold inspired by late-summer Wyoming—dried grasses, weathered fence lines and the warm September light that turns the prairie to gold.
Continue readingSome tools travel from one project to the next until, somewhere along the way, they simply become part of how we make. A Field Note about the little things that quietly earn their place.
Continue readingSome colors seem settled until the light changes. A dark blue becomes ink, slate, perhaps something softer—and reminds us how much can be waiting in something we thought we'd already seen.
Continue readingSome yarn seems to arrive with a plan.
You can almost see the sweater or shawl before you've finished winding the skein.
Others leave the question open.
I've had Indian Paintbrush in the Copper Crow collection from the beginning, inspired by the Wyoming wildflower that scatters red, coral, orange and the occasional unexpected shade across hillsides and mountain meadows. But seeing those familiar colors on a bulky base changes them somehow.
They're bigger here. Warmer. Easier to follow from one stitch into the next.
And bulky yarn has a rhythm all its own. Cast on a few stitches and before long, something has begun.
A hat, perhaps. A cowl. A scarf for that first genuinely cold morning.
Maybe that's part of the pleasure of bringing home a skein before you've settled on the answer.
Sometimes it's enough to put the yarn on the table, open the notebook, and wonder what it might become.
Continue readingWhat do we carry home from the places that stay with us? A reflection on Wyoming, small keepsakes, and the things that quietly hold a sense of place.
Continue readingA project bag holds more than yarn and tools. A quiet reflection on the useful, curious, and unexpected things that gather around a life spent making.
Continue readingSome projects outgrow the little bag without needing the whole tote. The 3-Skein Project Bag was made for that comfortable space in between.
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