03.10.08
It Is What It Is
I spied a little skein of hand spun Peruvian wool on my shelf from my lounging position on the couch. Something shifted internally and I could feel my lack of motivation moving gradually about an inch (visualize a large concrete block). I spun this yarn in July 2006 when Caroline still taught spinning at The Yarn Tree. (She’s teaching a class here this May.) I always wondered what this would look like knitted.
Voice in my head,” I’m going to knit this baby up and see what happens.” Voila . . .
It has been a long time since I have knit for knitting’s sake. No planning, no agonizing over a pattern, no swatches, no decisions, just knit. I grabbed the first needles I found, cast on and let myself enjoy the process of knitting - one loop through another loop, sliding the stitch over from one needle to the other needle, finishing the row. Each row, in fact, was a discovery - what it was going to look like as I used up the yarn? I looked at the yarn as it made its way onto the needles - a thick section or a thin section of the yarn could produce such different results.
I took the time to look at my knitting - from the micro - how the stitches and rows were different from each other - to the overall effect of the knitted fabric. I remembered how much I like garter stitch. I think garter stitch gets over looked too often, as if it is too basic. It is one of the building blocks of knitting - yin to purl’s yang. I took my time knitting this yarn; there was not much yarn to begin with and I wanted the experience to last as long as it could.
I felt many things when I was done: proud, pleased, joy, curious, peaceful.
This knitted piece is what it is - the spaces between the stitches, the random slubs, the twist in the knitted fabric that resulted from being over-spun, the wonderfully uneven texture - all from two sticks and some string.