The kitchen table is speckled with knitting litter. Its occasion was the last thing last night and one of the first thoughts first thing this morning. How it came about is this: I have a notion to enter a knitting competition and the wonderful detritus thusly scattered is a microcosm of that journey, incomplete, but definitely on the tracks.
I am ongoingly amazed at all the details that result in a final simple item. Simplicity truly is the essence achieved only after much of a muchness. The chosen wool persisted across the doodling, but I did cast my mind into the stash a few times before returning to the initial selection, this after the ball of wool ‘broke’. Every knitter knows the panic – flaw? moths? heat/age/storage damage? I finally ended up rewinding the entire ball! The ohmigod pieces are part of the litter. What stitches and what pattern became part of the juggle. The needles changed to get the right feel and look so there are different samples on different needles. (Good lord – tangent – I just figured out how to rearrange a sentence by going to Edit and using Copy and then Paste – I have done it before, I am sure, but the fear of the Cut and Delete keeps me computer humble forgetful). And in the midst of this knitting quest are the emotions which glue life together. I went from that self consciousness (with its constricting angst) of creating for not only others’ observation but also their judgment to the challenge of the endeavour to absorption in the process to the levels of joy in the creation. The ‘train’ awaits my next embarking.