When you spend two fairly intensive days surrounded by wool, your perception of the world gets a little – er, distorted. You start seeing shade cards everywhere. I experienced something like this when I was in Shetland, and I saw the landscape in terms of Jamieson’s 757, 750, 700 and many other shades of their blues and greens and – ahem.
I didn’t really expect it to happen on a two-day trip to Holmfirth, but it did. West Yorkshire – more down to earth?
After all, Rowan is on the unpoetically named Washpit New Road – can’t get more down to earth (well, you can, but most of those street names – often unprintable – were changed by the Victorians). Surely Holmfirth would be less likely to generate flights of fancy, or what my mother used to call ‘Celtic bollocks’?
Hm. I came home with a desire to knit stripes and dig out any Kidsilk Haze I had, which isn’t a lot. For a while I couldn’t think why. Then I downloaded my images, and all became clear(ish). It’s all Kidsilk Haze. In the case of this workshop, due to the timing, the more subdued colours. The yellow ochres, greys and browns, the misty colours.
Or maybe even more autumnal?
And then you get into deeper colours, and we’re moving more into the richer, more snuggly and comforting end of the Kidsilk Haze spectrum:
And I refuse to believe anyone who tells me that this moss right outside the Mill wasn’t the inspiration for Kidsilk Haze’s ‘Jelly’:
Oh dear. I’d better start saving bits and pieces for the Earth Stripe Wrap, perhaps.