Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Graf #10

When I was about fourteen, I fell in love with yarn. I have always been a kinesthetic kind of person and I discovered, after watching an elderly lady knit in the doctor's office, that yarn was made for my hands. My parents didn't want to pay for a knitting class because I've always been notoriously flighty, obsessively working on one thing without sleep or food, only to grow bored and move on to the next challenge to catch my interest. I had no friends who knew how to knit, as it was a prerequisite of teenage behavior to believe that anything an old person does is decidedly uncool and useless. But I wanted that yarn weaving through my fingers, that clack of metal needles in the air.

So I did what every nerdy little girl does. I went to the library. Signed out several how-to books, bought yarn with money I can never remember really earning, not the way I do now, and found a pair of knitting needles at a yard sale. I pored over those books, finally conquered the first knot, moved onto the next, entirely disappointed at how sloppy and slack my first row looked. I kept trying, realizing that I was creating holes here and there, dropping stitches, adding some on, and generally producing a scarf that looked more like the tentacles of a dead jelly fish. But I kept on, soon realizing that knitting needles can cause callouses on both index fingers, that little drops of blood can be left on the fibers, until a finely constructed garment grows from the needle like a limb.

I still knit now, mostly in the winter as the yarn, even an acrylic, can make the hands too sweaty in the summer. I've conquered sweaters, socks, hats, various scarves, fingerless gloves because the finger parts still terrify me, bags, coasters and even cozies for my coffee to-go cups. Each item I've created has been done with a different pattern, some lace, some cable, some multi-colored with different yarns. All stubbornly self-taught, hours spent ripping out rows and rows of yarn, only to start over again, not to be defeated.

1 comment:

  1. Blood on the fibers, eh? That's the kind of dedication I like to see in researchers!

    ReplyDelete

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