Donna Druchunas's Blog

I'm in bed and about to take a nap, typing this on my Nokia 810 tablet. It's hard to type with your thumbs!

I don't feel so great. My ankle hurts again -- I twisted it in Vilnius and kept walking -- I am still coughing, and I am tired. I have writer's block and I just re-outlined two chapters that I have been trying to write since May. I really, REALLY need to finish in a week or two, which doesn't leave much time for the blahs. I was getting ready to be in a bad mood about all of this but I remembered that I want to live in the moment and savour each feeling. Sometimes even bad days turn into good memories. So I am taking a nap and then either watching an old movie oe reading. I might even knit a bit. I will try to work again tomorrow.

Writing near Žagarė, I was thinking about how beautiful it was beside the river which was covered in lilly pads and how ugly it was that there were mass graves of Jews nearby in the forest. Lithuania's history is very sad and it was difficult to be in some places where the history is so near the surface.

What if whatever you believed in was real for you, but not real for those who didn't believe? What would you believe in then?

God(s) and/or Goddess(es)
Religion(s)
-- and -- which one(s)?
Angels
Demons
Ghosts
Voodoo
Leprechauns
Homeopathy
Aroma Therapy
Laumės
Magic
Alchemy
Faith Healing
Acupuncture
Fairies
Bigfoot
Aliens
Witches
Wizards
Brownies
ESP

Anything else?

Is it OK to only check email once a day? What about once or twice a week? I'm thinking I want to back waaaay off on my internet usage. I have no idea if I can possibly do this, but how else can I tell if I have an addiction? I actually enjoyed being online less while I was in Europe (both this and last summer)... but once I get home the old habits seem to come back to life very quickly.

I'm reading a very interesting book right now, Alone With All That Could Happen by David Jauss. It's a book about writing fiction, but it's also about life and thought and all kinds of interesting ideas. On page 16, this bit about immortality struck me:

The very fact that we tend to judge the value of the present in terms of the future -- "And would it have been worth it, after all?"... -- reveals the premise that life lacks meaning unless it continues in some way after its biological close. Death, then, is the enemy of meaning, unless something more valuable than the physical body survives." (Emphasis mine.)

Most people think like this. I usually think like this, but lately I've been coming to see that it is the present moment that is important, and not any future meaning that will be assigned to what I do. I think part of the reason I had such a wonderful time in Vilnius is that I was living for the moment, not trying to figure out how my daily activities would be important tomorrow, next month, next year, or in 1000 years.

Immortality is a fiction that we can't afford to believe in if we want to experience the beauty of life now. But it's not just immortality that is problematic, it's the whole habit of living for the future and missing out on the deliciousness of each moment, valued for nothing but the instantaneous experience. The idea of immortality, and even the habit of worrying about and planning for the future, robs us of life because life is made up of nothing more than a long string of individual moments that must be savored as they occur. Memory is bitter sweet and hope is illusory, but the present, or life, as Forest Gump knew, is like a box of chocolates. Let each moment dissolve in your mouth as it occurs and savour the sensations of the sweetness melting on your tongue.

I think I finally am beginning to understand what people mean when they say it is the process of writing that is important, not the product. It is the moment by moment experience of creating something that is worthwhile, even if there is no future product, no book printed, no article published, no movie produced. Of course these products have meaning and beauty too, because they lead to new experiences and new moments for readers and viewers, but for me, the writer, it is the now, the moment of creation, the experience of creating, that is important. If my house burns down and every page of my manuscripts and every backup of my files are destroyed, the act of creating will be no less important and no less fulfilling for me than if every word I write or type is someday published.

I am trying to avoid politics since I already know I'll vote Democrat in November, but I can't stop myself from posting this. Just one reminder why I would shoot myself in the head before I would vote for John McCain or any Republican.

I feel normal again, which is to say I feel like the way I felt before I went to Vilnius. I'm not really happy about this, because I liked the way I was in Vilnius. I hope that makes sense, because I don't know how to explain it any better. Something about this summer changed me, and I don't want to lose that feeling or way of being. I am not sure how I was or am different than before the trip, but the difference is palpable to me. Maybe no one else can see or sense it. I am trying to hold onto the feeling of adventure and beauty and love and friendship and joy and anticipation and melancholy and I don't even know what else. The truth is, by the end of my trip, I knew it had been one of the most wonderful summers of my life. I know I complained a lot on the blog during the first couple of weeks of the trip and then I didn't blog much more. But after the adjustment period, something just fell into place and the world was perfect for me. I know some of what made it perfect and some is a mystery to me, but I'm not going to write about it here because I've decided that I have been divulging too much private information on the internet over the past few years and I want to go back to keeping my own secrets. Secrets are good. Secrets feed the soul. Secrets are food for the muse. Secrets make life exciting. I have been thinking about too many interesting things since I've come home to even begin to write about them, anyway. I think the ideas want to be fictional stories but they are still percolating and they probably won't begin to find their way onto the page until November or December, my traditional time for giving myself space to rejuvenate my spirit and work on something creative that has nothing whatsoever to do with work or money. I do know one thing, I shall be taking the summers off to travel for the next several years until we can pay off our house and spend a year abroad -- probably in Vilnius, but perhaps in Italy or France or some yet-to-be-discovered country. The most wonderful time of my childhood was having the summers off and I think doing that now and traveling to new places helps to recapture the sense of exploration and discovery that overflows during childhood. It is an experience that writers need to remember to indulge in so they have something to write about. And if you don't write, indulge anyway. Fill the well or it might just run dry.

So that is my stream of consciousness rambling for the day. The thoughts are all still too ethereal to organize more and perhaps something of the summer is still hovering over the surface of my consciousness like a beautiful fog that has formed over the surface of a lake on a cold winter's morning.

Well, my blog seems to be down more than it's up lately but I don't have time to figure out what's wrong. I need to move the site to a new server, I guess, but I'm thinking I will have to hire someone to help me with this because I just don't have time to spend on techie stuff any more. And neither does Dom because he has a new work schedule.

But while the blog is working, here's something interesting from National Geographic:

Grazing musk-oxen and caribou may help protect the fragile Arctic ecosystem from the effects of global warming, according to a new study.

Large grazers could help the region by feasting on woody shrubs and plants that would otherwise take over as temperatures rise and change the way the Arctic looks and functions.

If shrubs dominated, they would darken Arctic lands and absorb more heat from the sun, enhancing warming due to greenhouse gases.

"Careful management and conservation of existing populations of musk-oxen and caribou, as well as other large herbivores, should be a priority in plans to mitigate the effects of climate change on ecosystems," said study leader and Pennsylvania State University researcher Eric Post.

"Until now, these animals seem to have been regarded more as background noise than as an active component of the ecosystem's response to warming," said Post, a National Geographic grantee.

So maybe some people besides knitters will start to think that musk oxen are important! You can read the whole thing here.

And for more on musk oxen and their soft, warm fiber, check out my book Arctic Lace.

I've been home a week. It's really hard to believe. I feel like part of me is still in Vilnius. ("I left my heArt in Lith-oo-wayne-ya" ... ok, too corny.) After jet lag and a cold that is not quite over, I have not gotten to feel like I am really at home yet. But now it's time to get back to work. I think I've figured out my priorities for my existing projects, and I will be working on them sequentially, instead of all at once, to help keep myself sane.

I will not add anything new to the list until there is only one thing left on the list. I'm tired of all this multi-tasking BS. I much prefer, I have decided, diving into one thing for an extended period of time with intense concentration, and then moving on to something else at a later time. That, at least, is how I feel today. Serial project monogamy feels like the right way to go.

I want to slow down a lot, too. I want to keep feeling European instead of American. I don't want to rush around all the time, always worrying about what is coming next. I want to experience and enjoy each moment for itself. I want to be able to take a ninety minute lunch or sit down for coffee for an hour or so and not be fretting about what emails or phone calls I might be missing. I want to write for an hour or two and lose myself in the words and ideas instead of jumping up every five minutes to fidget or get something to eat or drink. I want to calm my mind and my body so I can stay in a Vilnius mood. I want to knit something very easy with luxurious silk and savour the feeling of every stitch as the yarn flows through my fingers. I want to walk to the grocery store instead of driving. And I never want to hear the sound of an alarm clock again.

So those are great goals. We'll see if I'm up to the task of reaching them!

While I was in Vilnius, I got a letter from Barbara Walker with the answers to my interview questions! I meant to post while I was away, but it completely slipped my mind. Coming soon.....

and I am easing back into life in America. I could not stay awake during the day this weekend and could not sleep as much as I wanted to at night. The worst jetlag I have ever had. I'm very happy that it only happens on the way home though, where I don't mind wasting a few days!

Things I like and missed about America:
Ice
Cold beverages and free refills
Big, clean public restrooms
Roomy showers
The entrepreneurial "I can do anything" spirit
My plush bathrobe
Having a car
Not having to search for the right word to make a point
My old friends

Things I like and will miss about Lithuania:
Hearing people talk in many different languages
Being surrounded by history
Great bread
People can say my last name!
Other people like the same foods that I like
Inexpensive, frequent public transportation
Having to search for the right word to make a point
My new friends

OK, most of that's trivial, but the important stuff I've been thinking about is going to remain private for the time being. Enjoy your week!

Leaving for home tomorrow and will arrive very early friday morning. Sorry I did not get to blog more about the research part of the trip. I will try to post some recaps next week. All in all, it was a great trip and I am ready to come home.... although I could also be at home in Vilnius.

I promised I'd post as I travel around Lithuania and so far I haven't. Partly that's because I was busy, partly because I didn't have any internet, and partly because my blog was not working correctly. I'll be fixing the last thing soon by switching to a new server. I mentioned before the trip that I was probably going to take an extended break from blogging soon, and I think I will do that after I get home. I don't want to be bothered by techonological crap that doesn't work right any more. I really want to change my whole life and I'm not even sure what I do want to do anymore. We'll see how I feel next week when I'm home. I also have a TON more stuff that I could blog about from this trip, but no time... so you'll have to wait for the book!

Anyway, here's a recap of one day from what we've done so far. Only one week to go and we'll be heading home. I do miss my bed and my cats but otherwise, I still don't feel like I'm ready to leave Lithuania. I don't really want to spend my time doing research about fiber and knitting. I just want to live here and enjoy the country and the people.

First we went to Kaunas, about an hour from Vilnius. We wanted to go to the collections at the Čurlionis National Art Museum, but part of the building is under construction and the director was out of town on vacation, so that was a wash. I'll have to come back to view that collection because they have a lot of textiles, including knitted items. June's seen the collection and has a lot of photos of the knitted accessories, but I want to see it myself.

The next day June's friend Asta took out out into the countryside to visit some women who weave, knit, and spin. June had wanted to visit a spinning mill -- probably something like Brown Sheep in Nebraska -- but Asta thought that would be a waste of time. "It's just a factory," she said. As if that would discourage hard-core knitters from wanting to see! I explained to her how Brown Sheep is a tourist destination and that they even give tours of their mill and have a gift shop, and I think she thought we Americans are a little insane.

So, instead we drove around the beautiful countryside, which of course was not a waste of time either. Here are a few bits of what we saw. I can't get the pictures to upload, so you'll have to use your imagination.

1) This is Maria weaving fabric for the aprons that are part of the national costume. Her loom shares a room with her computer equipment. Notice how each little color area has a separate butterfly of yarn attached. Maria dyes these herself, but traditionally these colorful spots were made with commercial yarns, while the main fabric was made with handspun. One row is done with all of the little color areas, then one row is done with the main color. (Sorry, I know I'm not explaining this correctly but I don't know the weaving lingo.)



2) This is at the Mažoji Audimo Artelė group in the Vilkaviško Kultūros Centras in Vilkaviškas. There are four looms here, and anyone in the community who wants to learn to weave and to work on weaving fabrics for the national costume is welcome to join the group. They have to pay for electricity, but the space for the group is provided for free by the Cultural Center. These dresses are examples of what is made from the fabrics being woven. The two aprons show how the colorful bits are used in the costume.



3) This is Maria's sister. She spins for an organization that is working with a Scandinavian company. (Conflicting reports of whether it is in Norway or Sweden.) The company sends fiber, in this case black alpaca, the spinners make the yarn and send it back for payment. Notice how she puts the yarn on the skein winder as if it were a distaff and drafts downward. In all of the old pictures I've seen, this is how women in Lithuania spin. They use the distaff in the same manner when spinning with a spindle as well. That is because they also used to spin a lot of linen (today linen production is a large commercial enterprise, while wool is mostly used at home for personal projects.) With linen, you always keep the fibers on a distaff. So it is easier to spin both fibers in the same manner, instead of working out two different ways of handling the fiber. Maria also spins local wool to make socks for her family.



4) This is an old carding machine that has been wasting away in an out building for twenty years. This woman and her husband used to card yarn for the neighbors when everyone kept one or two sheep tethered in the yard for their own personal use. People would bring bags of wool and come back to get carded fiber for spinning. The machine is made almost entirely of wood. It's probably about 100 or 150 years old. The woman said they'd bought it about 50 years ago, and it was already old. Her husband died 11 years ago after an illness, and it hasn't been used since.



5) Finally we went to the local museum where the curator had some of her mother's knitting to show us and we also saw a couple of pairs of mittens in the museum's collection. This pair features the rose motif that will be in Ethnic Knitting Exploration, book 2 in my series. In that book, you'll get a sneak peek at what will be coming in the book about Lithuanian knitting. There's a bit of history from Lithuania Minor, the region near the Baltic Sea, and a few charts that I've adapted from their traditional use on socks and gloves for use on sweaters.



The one thing missing from our research is women showing me how they do different techniques. I'm not sure I want to do the book without finding this information. It may be impossible, because so few people do the traditional knitting any more. We did get great close up photos of the knitting, and got to examine it up close, so I may have to to my best to figure some things out myself.

I know June really wants to finish writing by the end of 2008 and try to get the book published by fall 2009. I think that's totally impossible. I think I will have to come back here again and do some further research and I also have two other books that have to be finished before I start working on this one. I don't think I am even going to try to finish this book by the end of 2008, because I am not going back into rat-race mode when I arrive in America. I think finishing in 2009 is realistic, with the book coming out sometime in 2010. Perhaps we can also schedule a Baltic Knitting tour to coincide with the book launch. I'm not sure how long that would take to plan, but I am certain it would be at least a year, perhaps 18-24 months, to get the details right and line up the teachers that I would want to participate.

That's it for now. We are in Klaipėda today, in Lithuania Minor, and we'll be exploring the Old Town all day and then going to have dinner in a cafe on the beach and walking on the coast until we get tired or the sun sets.