Monday, June 22, 2009

The things we love

It's pretty impressive, sometimes, that we forget to listen to ourselves.

I think that most people, by the time they're in their mid-twenties, probably know themselves fairly well - or rather, they know what they like, some of the things they don't, and a bit of what makes them happy. So why, knowing these things, would someone just stop doing something that makes them happy?

I barely touched my knitting needles between the end of March and the beginning of June. I didn't finish a single project, I started a project I could care less about and still need to frog, and somehow - somehow I forgot about why I did this incredible thing with sticks and string.

Knitting grounds me. The familiar feel of needles in my hands and the slight friction of yarn over my left index finger relaxes me like nothing else. I can't even remember what I did before I started knitting, to have down time at the end of the day. To compose my thoughts and sort out the thoughts in my head. How did I forget this thing that makes me a calm and reasonable person? That means I can face my day without going mad?

I picked up my needles again on the 6th of June, and started the Luna Moth Shawl from using some beautiful fingering weight 100 percent alpaca in a gorgeous grey-brown that one of my younger sisters had gotten me for last Christmas. As I watched the repeats get longer and the bulk of the yarn go from the centre-pull ball into the mess that is lace, I could feel myself finding my centre again.

The shawl is drying next door, on the spare bed in my flat.

Moth wings, drying on the bed

It's beautiful, and better pictures will follow to show just how lovely; the yarn is perfect for showcasing the pattern, and I'm really proud of this one. It's for me, to wrap myself in on cold winter nights and to keep the chill off in the changeable English summer. It's to remind myself not to forget the things I know keep me sane.

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