I just read something on-line -- of which I'll post a picture later -- that really resonated with me. It said -- I'm paraphrasing, here -- that which you waste your time doing, maybe you should just do.
And it hit me, like a ton of bricks; I waste my time writing, and knitting. Don't get me wrong, I *love* sewing. It is my first passion. My first great love. Creating something three dimensional and wearable from something essentially flat is a wonderful...well, to me, it's magical. Elemental, even. And it is something I will always want to do; something I will always love as I love nothing else.
This being said, I am drawn to knitting as I never was to sewing. While sewing is full of frustration and muttered threats -- mostly said in the wee hours of the morning as a deadline looms ever closer -- knitting is fluid, and relaxing and blatantly meditative. It makes me feel...it makes me *feel*. Period. When I finally allow myself to turn off the tv, the music and my voice, I sit there, needles ticking away at the yarn, creating something literally out of nothing, time seems to stand still. I seem to fall *out* of time itself and...truly feel. I feel what it's like to be me, to be female, to be *human*.
I believe creating is a vital human need. We are programmed at a cellular level to create; children are usually our creation of choice. I currently do not have children. But I create. When I knit a piece of fabric, be it large or minute, I feel as though I've essentially given birth, raised, then let fly a child of my own creation.
I am sitting here, in a coffee shop near my home, waiting for a friend to pick me up. I haven't seen her in three years. We are going to have a wonderful day. And all I can think about is the bagful of knitting draped over my chair. It is calling to me.
Knitting helps me cope. It rests my mind while allowing my fingers to dance. A few weeks ago, because of various situations, I was unable to knit -- or sew, for that matter -- for nearly three weeks. I literally became so intensely depressed I didn't know what to do. My life line had been severed. Literally. I eventually worked my way through, and was able to begin knitting again. And at this point, I have decided that *not* knitting is not acceptable. Ever. Period. It really is quite that simple. Sort of.
As far as my sewing goes, we'll see. I may or may not ever make money either teaching sewing or clogging about sewing or pod-casting about sewing. I *will* continue sewing. I may just not say too much about what I'm doing in that arena. I am not comfortable giving up sewing, if for no other reason than the amount of time and $$ I have spent on this endeavor over the past 5 or so years. We'll just have to see. I believe I may need to lower my expectations of my ability to produce.
Now, where's my yarn and my needles? I've had a great day, and I'm ready to relax and knit.
~ happy procrastinating, my lovelies <3
And it hit me, like a ton of bricks; I waste my time writing, and knitting. Don't get me wrong, I *love* sewing. It is my first passion. My first great love. Creating something three dimensional and wearable from something essentially flat is a wonderful...well, to me, it's magical. Elemental, even. And it is something I will always want to do; something I will always love as I love nothing else.
This being said, I am drawn to knitting as I never was to sewing. While sewing is full of frustration and muttered threats -- mostly said in the wee hours of the morning as a deadline looms ever closer -- knitting is fluid, and relaxing and blatantly meditative. It makes me feel...it makes me *feel*. Period. When I finally allow myself to turn off the tv, the music and my voice, I sit there, needles ticking away at the yarn, creating something literally out of nothing, time seems to stand still. I seem to fall *out* of time itself and...truly feel. I feel what it's like to be me, to be female, to be *human*.
I believe creating is a vital human need. We are programmed at a cellular level to create; children are usually our creation of choice. I currently do not have children. But I create. When I knit a piece of fabric, be it large or minute, I feel as though I've essentially given birth, raised, then let fly a child of my own creation.
I am sitting here, in a coffee shop near my home, waiting for a friend to pick me up. I haven't seen her in three years. We are going to have a wonderful day. And all I can think about is the bagful of knitting draped over my chair. It is calling to me.
Knitting helps me cope. It rests my mind while allowing my fingers to dance. A few weeks ago, because of various situations, I was unable to knit -- or sew, for that matter -- for nearly three weeks. I literally became so intensely depressed I didn't know what to do. My life line had been severed. Literally. I eventually worked my way through, and was able to begin knitting again. And at this point, I have decided that *not* knitting is not acceptable. Ever. Period. It really is quite that simple. Sort of.
As far as my sewing goes, we'll see. I may or may not ever make money either teaching sewing or clogging about sewing or pod-casting about sewing. I *will* continue sewing. I may just not say too much about what I'm doing in that arena. I am not comfortable giving up sewing, if for no other reason than the amount of time and $$ I have spent on this endeavor over the past 5 or so years. We'll just have to see. I believe I may need to lower my expectations of my ability to produce.
Now, where's my yarn and my needles? I've had a great day, and I'm ready to relax and knit.
~ happy procrastinating, my lovelies <3
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