Yarn.....soft to the touch strings of glorious colour, that fade then deepen as they loop and turn around smooth metal needles. The click, twist, turn and slip create a rhythm flowing through once fumbling fingers, as stitches tumble from pointed ends.
Needles click and my mind empties of all but the mantra of a counted pattern , beating time to the pull of skeins through my hands measuring deftly intertwining loops, that weave together in ever growing intricate ways.
From hesitant beginnings, structure is formed; a rib, a seed, a measured fold; even the most delicate of cables snaking through a mundane stretch of stocking stitches ..... and suddenly I am taken aback at what these loops and twists can do, as elvish hats for bright eyed children slowly emerge from depleted skeins.... and my mind is calmed by meditative motion.
From hesitant beginnings, structure is formed; a rib, a seed, a measured fold; even the most delicate of cables snaking through a mundane stretch of stocking stitches ..... and suddenly I am taken aback at what these loops and twists can do, as elvish hats for bright eyed children slowly emerge from depleted skeins.... and my mind is calmed by meditative motion.
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