Melonberries and Marc Chagall's Stained Glass Windows

Ideas fly past me like fluffy, winged color patches in the path of a summer wind.

“Hurry! Hurry!” they say. “Catch me before I’m blown back into your subconscious.”

The wind seems to change those little clouds, stretching them, balling them up, tearing them into frilly remnants. When the temperature rises they flicker in hot pinks and reds, when it falls they undulate in deep-sea blues. Sometimes they seem saturated with the sun-laced greens of ancient forests.

“They usually form into organic shapes,” I would say if questioned. “Sometimes, though, they look like man-made constructions.” Then I wonder how best to describe the considerations that go into the project of knitting the same teddy bear pattern close to 200 times. I think I might have tried to explain this before, but sitting here this morning, looking at an unfinished group of Melonberry-colored Bears on my table, and holding a differently hued, finished Bear in my hand, I feel as if there is a pause in the storm and I can collect my impressions. If I am quick about it.

A few days ago I started a group of seven Bears. The idea behind this group was two-fold. First, I would use seven shades of brown for the heads. A tribute to Mr. Mandela’s Rainbow Nation. Secondly, they all would have identical Red Heart Melonberry bodies and legs in seed stitch. Then I would pick one shade of the Melonberry yarn for each bear and knit arms and skirt and scarf in lavenders, melons, pale yellows, muted rose. Finally I would knit a pocket for each skirt. I haven’t yet decided what color the pockets will be. (This reminds me of the group of Bears I called “Mangosalad.” Same organic idea and similar shades of yarn.)

After knitting four and a half Bears I ran out of Melonberry. Trips to three craft stores were in vain. I could buy the yarn online. One skein $2.99. Shipping $5.99. . . . . . NO WAY! I got a rain check at Beverly’s Fabrics where I had bought the first skein. “Don’t know when it will come in. We’ll give you a call.”

Yesterday I took the label off a one-gallon water bottle and stuffed my collected loose ends into it in one of those useless side-tracked-in-between actions that allowed me the time to rest my eyes. Interpreting those winged color patch ideas for hours on end can give you a headache. As I was loading the bottle, watching little snips of yarn swirl like psychedelic spaghetti, I thought of stained glass. I pulled a Marc Chagall book from a shelf and when I opened it I found four postcards I had carried around for over twenty years. “Glasfenster von Marc Chagall.” (Stained glass church windows by Marc Chagall)

Well, hello Mr. Chagall! A new vision for me. My color patches in the wind became squares separated by black lines. I rushed into my yarn room, dug up some black and a few variegated yarns. Settled on “Watercolor” and knitted for seven hours until my first Chagall Bear was finished. This morning I gave her a face. The mouth is a bit crooked; I love her mouth. I named her Chloe after the ancient Greek love story of Daphnis and Chloe, which Chagall interpreted in a serious of beautiful paintings. I know he would have liked my Chloe.

The book is: Marc Chagall “Daphnis and Chloe” Pegasus Library

No visitors today, please, I'm knitting..........

Well, at least Bear Number 183 is finished.