Rethinking Crochet Purpose

It's been a while, sailors, and it seems I have abandoned my fledgling blog before it really spread its wings. I've been thinking a lot lately, because I'll be going off to college in just a bit over a year, and once that's happened, I sort of wonder if I'll have money for yarn anymore.

Then I start to get a sick feeling in my stomach, because to be able to crochet at all is a privilege that too many people are unable to even contemplate. In the wake of discussions about yarn bombing and how undeniably oblivious the people who do it are, I've been feeling disconnected from my art. Gentrification is something I hate; by crocheting, am I becoming like or even just unconsciously affiliating myself with the gentrified hipster crowd? I want my crochet to have meaning to somebody, not just something that's "worth more" than store-bought socks and sweaters because they're handmade.

So I've done some thinking, and I think I've figured out why I want to crochet and run this blog. I want to be able to use my art as a form of scientific education; biology is something that I am wholeheartedly in love with, and by creating and thinking and learning about animals through the medium of crochet, I teach myself and anyone who comes by to look here. It's certainly not world-changing, and I still like to crochet socks, but it's something.

On that note, I'm going to talk about some upcoming projects that I hope to be writing about. This is one of my favorite creatures ever, Oligocottus maculosus--the tidepool sculpin. They're very beautiful fish, delicate and well-camouflaged. Also, they perpetually look like they hate the world, which is very charming considering how tiny this particular sculpin species is. Some of them can get a meter or so in length (Scorpaenichthys marmoratus, the cabezon, comes to mind).

A lil guy I found chilling under some seaweed. Note the saddle markings and lace-like fins.

So, here's a quick sketch I put together about how I might construct a huggable one. This one is probably going to resemble a Red Irish Lord (Hemilepidotus hemilepidotus) more than a tidepool sculpin due to its size. That's fine with me, because Irish Lords are also incredibly beautiful. They're covered everywhere with chromatophores, the things that allow cuttlefish and octopus to change colors. The Irish lords can't match the octopus for creative camouflaging, but it is unique in that it has chromatophores not only on the surface of its skin, but in its eyes. It's nothing if not thorough in its hiding mechanisms.

Man, look at those scribbles.

Some of the things I make sure to do in my crochet is add extra lines--the vertical lines on the body indicate which direction I want to crochet him in (lips to tail), and the spiral in the mouth indicates how I want to construct the throat piece that will make sure you can't jam a fist down his face. I make notes about what kind of stitches I want to use and some special details I want to pay attention to--in this case, cute chubby bellies. Sculpins are hardly plate-thin vertical tropical fish; many people compare them to frogs, and they should have some bulk to them.

Next Wednesday I'm going to try to make it to a local crochet meeting and get started on the prototype. See you next time, sailors.