I'm not so afraid, lost at sea, you and I, you and me.
This morning I folded the three month sweater and put it, along with the mittens my sister managed to knit perfectly in one day, on top of my beau's backpack to take with him. I felt proud, but oddly and mostly, I felt SAD.
That sweater and all the intensive work I put into it, means so much more to me than a simple knitting project. It was my constant companion for those three months and I knit when I was angry, lonely, confused, sad, happy, content. My hair and bits of hay found their way into a few stitches here and there. Perhaps a few tears, maybe a drip of coffee or tea....
That sweater was my first long term knitting project and I finished it all by myself. I did not quit and I did not give up. I used worsted, 100 percent fisherman's wool and it smelled of clean lanolin and herbs, like my home.
Today at work, I felt the creative loss keenly and realized how much I needed busy work, for I am a lady of intense imagination and thought and I cannot abide idle hands or mind. So...after work, I went to the knitting store and I bought more fisherman's wool. On this icy, blustery, Pequod approved eve, I will start another sweater. This one, it shall be for me, as a reminder of what I have accomplished and what I can accomplish alone and to keep my company when the other sweater has parted ways with my eyes and heart.
Perhaps that sweater was symbolic of my progress, of my growing, of my heart, of my relationship. I cannot be sure. All I know is, at the end of the day, I am still taking another step to a higher ground in constant pursuit of Rose.
Seeking my own starry sky in the great western half of the country, seeking my independence and seeking better ways to light up the night in a pink hue that belongs singularly to me.
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That sweater and all the intensive work I put into it, means so much more to me than a simple knitting project. It was my constant companion for those three months and I knit when I was angry, lonely, confused, sad, happy, content. My hair and bits of hay found their way into a few stitches here and there. Perhaps a few tears, maybe a drip of coffee or tea....
That sweater was my first long term knitting project and I finished it all by myself. I did not quit and I did not give up. I used worsted, 100 percent fisherman's wool and it smelled of clean lanolin and herbs, like my home.
Today at work, I felt the creative loss keenly and realized how much I needed busy work, for I am a lady of intense imagination and thought and I cannot abide idle hands or mind. So...after work, I went to the knitting store and I bought more fisherman's wool. On this icy, blustery, Pequod approved eve, I will start another sweater. This one, it shall be for me, as a reminder of what I have accomplished and what I can accomplish alone and to keep my company when the other sweater has parted ways with my eyes and heart.
Perhaps that sweater was symbolic of my progress, of my growing, of my heart, of my relationship. I cannot be sure. All I know is, at the end of the day, I am still taking another step to a higher ground in constant pursuit of Rose.
Seeking my own starry sky in the great western half of the country, seeking my independence and seeking better ways to light up the night in a pink hue that belongs singularly to me.
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