Yarnstorm the Fifth: Memorial of Melancholy

Posted by on Aug 20, 2009 in Deadly Knitshade, Lady Loop, London, Yarnstorms | 5 comments

In the dark and dingy depths of the Leake Street tunnel we, the Knit the City Yarn Corps, lost our Web of Woe not 24 hours after it was so carefully installed.

When the wounds were less fresh and the scars were beginning to heal four brave members of the Yarn Corps returned to the site to remember. For the remaining two it was still too painful.

We came to stand sorrowfully staring at the gaping 13-foot space where our Web of Woe was once weaved, to hold a silence for the 44 handstitched beasts who are gone we know not where, and place to our Memorial of Melancholy.

The Memorial of Melancholy remembers

The Memorial of Melancholy remembers

Each of us made our offering:

Lady Loops Spook Bugs

Lady Loop's Spook Bugs

Bluestocking Stitchers vengeful sweary butterflies

Bluestocking Stitcher's vengeful sweary butterflies

Deadly Knitshades sinster skeletal Ghostmouse

Deadly Knitshade's sinster skeletal Ghostmouse

The Purple Purlers lamenting Lord Lovebug

The Purple Purler's lamenting Lord Lovebug

Web of Woe and all your creatures, whereever you are your horrifying scenes of death, entrapment, and sweary butterflies will live on in the pages of this blog and in the hearts of those who witnessed your woolly woeful wonder.

Weep and wail before the Memorial of Melancholy

Weep and wail before the Memorial of Melancholy

Rest in purled pieces...

Rest in purled pieces...

If you have any information on the whereabouts of our Web of Woe beasts or parts of the Memorial of Melancholy, which subsequently went missing days later, please pass on your information to our one of our spy pigeons. Any information leading to an arrest or at least a good hard pinch, will result in cake.

For the inside story from Yarn Corps members see:

Deadly Knitshade’s The Ghostmouse’s Story: a tiny tale of sinister skelemouse shivers

5 Comments

  1. I went yesterday evening but did not see those? I share your sadness – it was such a great creation and would have been better left to be shared…

    I saw one of your woolen spiders attched to one of the Thames bridges though. The one just after the Hayward gallery? I took a picture, can email it if you wish.

    So maybe they weren’t so much stolen as transferred to another site…?

  2. It is sad when things pass, but this stuff makes me think of sand mandalas – beautiful, devoted & ephemeral. It all adds to the utter brilliance that is guerrilla knitting graffiti. I salute you and the yarns you spin.

  3. ..and to think, some of the city’s troubled youth may have spoiled it for others, but probably went home and took a little cuddly thing to bed. Aaaah.

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  1. The Ghostmouse’s Story: a tiny tale of sinister skelemouse shivers « Whodunnknit - [...] took his place in the Memorial of Melancholy in small yet stony silence. Ghostmouse memorialised Who knows what he …
  2. The Ghostmouse’s Story: a tiny tale of sinister skelemouse shivers | Whodunnknit - [...] took his place in the Memorial of Melancholy in small yet stony [...]

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