I was recently reminded (and inspired to write this post) about the process of knitting and designing. It reminds me of my own growth as a knitter and designer. I used to be the "brace for impact" kind of knitter - someone who took my needles and yarn, casted on the number of stitches I thought I needed, and hoped for the best with the final project. Thankfully, I've evolved into the kind of knitter that sees it more as a practice, a meditation. Of course I want everything I knit to turn out perfectly and everyone to love it. But that's the same expectation as wanting everyone to live peacefully, love generously and stop letting their dogs pee on our flowers, never mind the destroying of flowers. It may never happen. So, before I start knitting anything, I try to remember to let the yarn tell me, not the other way around. It's a way of setting aside everything I think I know about the fiber, drape, color behavior and grace vs. awkwardness in a fit. So when I have to do this it's all ok:
 |
| In case you're wondering, yarn is (clockwise in a spiral from top) Zara, Brown Sheep's Top of the Lamb (dark), Brown Sheep's Top of the Lamb (light), unknown cashmere brand (green and blue), and Rio de la Plata in Rabbit (no longer made) |
It's the same reason I don't write this blog to be famous or accumulate 100 comments about something silly I've written. I've had blogs/abandoned them, written/not written, and then always feel the need to apologize for not being "around". It's all part of the process. Who cares if I haven't been "around" anyway?
Happy (process) knitting....
