I think I have mentioned before that I don't stash yarn. Circumstances don't allow - I don't really have the room for unassigned yarn in my cramped office, much less spare cash for picking it up in the first place. Then, too, it's very often a yarn itself that suggests a project to me - the idea behind a new sweater grows out of some little nuance of color, of feel, of luster, some specific characteristic of a specific boughten yarn. Traffic doesn't seem to flow the other way in my brain, so it's not worth it to buy anything I don't have plans for right that minute.
So why am I binging on fiber? And I mean binging. More stuff than I can possibly spin in the near future, more stuff than I can possibly dream up ideas for.
There are also, I think, six or seven other things winging their way to my house as we speak from Amy Boogie's Almost Solid Series, Hello Yarn, and Handpainted Yarn. This is a somewhat troubling trend. It feels a little...decadent, you know?
The pictured tops are more things from Erin, purchased at last night's spinning group. The bottom picture is the Flame colorway (superwash Merino), and the upper is Merino in Blood Orange. It actually reminds me more of peaches - not real live eating peaches, precisely, but the vivid, heavenly boksung-ah of Korean folktales. You know, the kind of mysteriously medicinal peach that's always being presented by some beautiful immortal broad on a cloud to a poor-but-noble peasant boy full of filial devotion to his ailing father. Something like that.
Most of my recent purchases (excepting yesterday's stuff, obviously) have been the same sort of thing, melting tones within one color, or within one closely-related color family - I think between all my purchases, I've hit most of the color wheel. Right now, I am most interested in producing the kind of yarn shown here, by the wondrously talented Cara - randomly shifting barberpoles of almost-solid color. I love the way it looks in the hank and knitted up, love the interactivity it forces: it requires a sort of active engagement from the viewer, just to see and process the way the colors move and match and mismatch. Lovely, really beautiful stuff. I could see, for example, spinning two highly contrasting yarns in this way, and then using them in a simple two-color stranded pattern - the finished work would have the same kind of energy to it, would be complex and interesting and wonderful to look at and think about. In, say, browns and greys for knee socks with a simple Faroese-style geometric pattern...or rusty reds and golds in a modern lusekoft for October bike rides?
Erm...maybe I can justify it after all. I probably shouldn't have worried.