Note Also The Project Mentioned Half-way Down The Page About Translating The Specific Couplets.

delightedbeauty.org

Shakespeare translation research project. Multilingual translations - all languages - all periods. Othello: case study, pilot project. Data visualisations.

Note also the project mentioned half-way down the page about translating the specific couplets. 

This conference is p awesome, so many amazing projects I’m learning about.

Someone just drew my attention to this, which I missed before.

Unsurprising fact: lots of lines in the Iliad start with των. Or occasionally, for variation, τωι.* You can tell which lines they are in this photo because ω is currently the only letter I'm using a blue for. So every line that has a blue second stitch is των (or τωι). *It's actually τω with an iota subscript, but throughout the whole project I'm reverting them back to full iotas.

It's a little bit of a faff, but it works perfectly for me: when you get to the end of a needle, drop that needle and carry on knitting the next two or three stitches from the next needle onto your live needle as well, then pick up your empty needle, slip those two/three stitches from the old live needle onto this needle, and carry on.

Basically, always knit two-three stitches from the next needle without changing your live needle, then change to the next live needle and slip those two/three stitches onto it, so you're never having to knit any stitches on joins.

Hello! I have a question about laddering with DPNs because no matter what I keep getting ladders on my socks. I usually knit with three in the stitches and the fourth one to knit and I've tried using all five and I've tried putting more tension on the parts where the needles meet but I can't seem to get it right :/ should I give up and just do magic loop?

Hi there,

Unfortunately, laddering can happen with the magic loop method as well.  

You said you’re using more tension at the joins.  Are you putting extra tension on the first few and last few stitches on each needle?  

Also, another trick I use is moving the stitches around periodically to change up where the first and last stitches on the needles are.  This can make laddering quite a bit less noticeable because it’s not happening with the same stitches every row.

Aside from doing what she’s already doing does anyone else have other ideas for a-piece-of-pjorn on how to avoid laddering?

Classics craft workshop at KCL

King’s College London are hosting an event on the 16th October 2015 called ‘Craft process & cultural response: making & thinking about making in Greco-Roman antiquity’ There’s a choice of a mosaic workshop and a textile workshop, followed by an evening talk. 

It’s free but you do have to register (which you can do through the link above). I already signed up for the textile workshop (shocking, I know). 

I’m a huge supporter of alternative approaches to classical material - especially craft approaches. There are experiences you gain from engaging in a making process that you just can’t pick up from translating texts or reading texts, looking at pictures, or reading academic research. It’s an approach that I’d recommend anyone interested in classics tries at least once. This event looks pretty good to me, so, y’know, if classics/craft is your thing and attending seems doable to you, maybe register for it. :3

I’ve been thinking a lot about the illusion of pure originality ever since I read this comment from Pablo Neruda, which Mykki Blanco tweeted a few days ago. Last week, a subscriber to my newsletter alerted me to the fact that some other person had started an email newsletter with a structure very similar to mine. “It seems like he’s copied your whole format,” wrote the reader, who was flatteringly indignant on my behalf. I told him that I appreciated him looking out for me, but that I try not to keep tabs on or worry about these things too much. I don’t own the idea of breaking up a newsletter into discrete sections, and I assume that most people subscribe to mine because of the substance of what I include, not due to the fact that I have created a unique new format. Because I haven’t. A few weeks before that, I had a conversation with a friend who’s an illustrator. She told me that younger artists sometimes ask her to divulge exactly which materials she uses—brushes, ink, paint, paper. She finds it insulting. She said she’d never give away such specific information, because to do so would be a tacit endorsement of other people copying her work. I told her that I didn’t think it was a big deal. All creators do a certain amount of ethical stealing, and no other artist could make the work that she does, even using the exact same materials, because she infuses everything with her point of view—which she owns completely. I would like to tell you I sounded wise, but I probably sounded like an asshole. Then today a friend tweeted about a new podcast that’s all about friendship. I felt a flash of annoyance: “Hey, we already have a podcast about friendship.” And I had to take a step back and remember that originality is not the virtue it’s made out to be. This is not friendship-podcast Highlander. There can be more than one—or two or three or four—excellent podcasts about friendship. It’s a big and important topic! And then I subscribed to the new podcast.  Obviously you don’t want someone passing off your words as their own or tracing your illustrations and republishing without attribution. But such instances of straight-up stealing are way less common, I think, than the petulant urge to protect your perceived originality from people who are merely making something similar. I’m putting this here to remind myself that next time I feel the desire to defend and clamp down on my work, it might be time to try making something new instead. And accept that even the new-for-me thing is not going to be totally original.